“That’s mine.”
Marcus stood.
He looked at the front.
BRUNSWICK ACADEMY.
His eyes lifted.
“What is this?”
“Nothing.”
Caleb whispered, “Boarding school.”
Marcus looked down at him.
“What?”
Vanessa stepped in.
“Caleb.”
Marcus raised one hand.
“No.”
He turned toward his son.
“What did you say?”
Caleb looked terrified again.
“She said I’m going there.”
Marcus stopped breathing.
Vanessa said quickly, “I said we were looking at options.”
Marcus slowly turned.
“We?”
“You and I.”
“I have never discussed boarding school.”
“We discussed academic opportunities.”
“We discussed summer programs.”
“Yes.”
“That is not boarding school.”
Vanessa took a breath.
“I was going to talk to you after the gala.”
Marcus stared at the envelope.
He opened it.
Inside was a glossy admissions packet.
Brunswick Academy.
A private residential school in Massachusetts.
Grades two through nine.
There was an application form.
Partially completed.
Student:
Caleb A. Monroe.
Parent/Guardian 1:
Marcus Monroe.
Parent/Guardian 2:
Vanessa Monroe.
Marcus’s face became unreadable.
“Why is this filled out?”
“I told you.”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“You told me you were going to discuss it.”
Vanessa said nothing.
He flipped pages.
Teacher recommendation requested.
Medical history.
Family contact information.
Then a printed email.
Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. Based on your description of Caleb’s behavioral and adjustment difficulties following bereavement and your concerns regarding household instability, residential structure could indeed benefit him.
Marcus read the sentence twice.
“Household instability.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“It’s admissions language.”
“What behavioral difficulties?”
“He has trouble listening.”
“He is seven.”
“He has anger.”
“He lost his mother.”
“That cannot explain everything forever.”
Caleb began crying again.
Marcus looked down.
The boy was staring at Vanessa.
Not confused.
Recognizing.
Marcus felt a new kind of fear.
“What else has she said to you?”
Caleb shook his head.
“Caleb.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“He is overwhelmed.”
Marcus faced her.
“Back up.”
She stopped.
His voice remained controlled.
“Do not speak for him.”
Caleb wiped his face.
“She said I make you tired.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“What?”
“She said…”
He sniffed.
“She said you weren’t sad before because I was little.”
Marcus crouched immediately.
“Look at me.”
Caleb did.
“What else?”
“She said after Mom died you had to do everything.”
Marcus’s eyes filled.
“I did.”
“And then you met her.”
“Yes.”
“And you got happy.”
His voice cracked.
“Sometimes.”
Caleb looked toward Vanessa.
“She said if I keep making trouble, you might decide you want a normal life.”
Marcus felt as though someone had struck him in the chest.
“What is a normal life?”
Caleb shrugged.
“Just you and her.”