Noah looked at Renee, then back at his father.
“Mom said not to buy lunch.”
“Why?”
“She said we had to learn.”
Damon’s breathing changed.
“Learn what?”
Noah stared at his shoes.
“Not to ask for stuff all the time.”
Damon felt dizzy.
“What did you eat at school?”
Noah whispered:
“Sometimes my friends give me things.”
Renee spoke sharply.
“That is a lie.”
Noah looked at her.
“I had Caleb’s granola bar today.”
“You told me you bought lunch.”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, you said tell Dad that.”
Silence.
Damon turned toward Renee.
Her face had changed again.
“What did you tell him to say?”
Renee shook her head.
“This conversation is getting ridiculous.”
“No.”
Damon’s voice was quiet.
“It’s getting specific.”
He looked at Noah.
“What were you supposed to tell me?”
The boy swallowed.
“That we ate school lunch.”
Damon felt his pulse in his throat.
“Why?”
Noah started crying.
“Because you ask.”
Renee rubbed her forehead.
“You ask them every night what they ate because you feel guilty for traveling.”
Damon stared.
“And your solution was to teach them what answer would make me stop asking?”
“I was trying to get you out of the middle of every meal.”
“Why?”
“Because you undermine me.”
The same word again.
Authority.
Undermine.
Discipline.
Damon looked inside the refrigerator.
Something else caught his attention.
A clear plastic bin on the bottom shelf.
Inside were snacks.
Granola bars.
Fruit pouches.
Crackers.
Chocolate milk.
A handwritten label was taped across the lid.
PRIVILEGES.
Damon lifted it.
“What is this?”
Renee closed her eyes.
Noah whispered:
“You have to earn those.”
Damon looked at him.
“How?”
“Points.”
“What points?”
The boy walked toward a cabinet.
Renee stepped in front of him.
“No.”
Damon’s expression changed.
“Noah.”
The boy looked at his mother.
Then his father.
Damon said:
“Show me.”
Noah opened the cabinet.
Taped to the inside of the door was a laminated chart.
BROOKS FAMILY RESET.
Below it were rows.
Morning compliance.
School readiness.
Respectful language.
Food attitude.
Sibling cooperation.
Evening routine.
Ava and Noah’s names appeared beside columns of green, yellow, and red dots.
Damon stared.
“What is this?”
Renee’s voice became controlled.
“A behavior system.”
“From whom?”
“Dr. Keller.”
“Who is Dr. Keller?”
“A family consultant.”
Damon turned.
“We have a family consultant?”
“I told you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“When?”