A student asked whether people needed to understand someone’s medical condition before knowing how to help. Zoe shook her head.
“You can learn the diagnosis later.” She smiled.
“Respect the no first.”
Marcus lowered his eyes. Dana should have heard that.
Then another thought arrived, softer than it once would have. Maybe in some way she had.
After the event, Tessa asked Zoe to sign her yearbook. Zoe laughed. “I’m not famous.”
“You are here.” Zoe sighed.
“That is depressing.” She signed anyway.
Marcus waited outside with iced tea. Zoe rolled toward him.
“Good speech.” “You have to say that.”
“I’ve heard your bad speeches.” “When?”
“Fourth-grade book report.” Zoe pointed at him.
“That was Mrs. Franklin’s fault.” “You didn’t read the book.”
“Exactly.” They laughed.
Then Zoe looked toward the pickup bench. It had been replaced with a newer metal one.
“You ever wish you yelled at Linda?” she asked. Marcus thought.
“No.” Zoe raised an eyebrow.
“Really?” “Really.”
“Why?” Marcus looked toward the school.
“Yelling would’ve lasted thirty seconds.” He smiled.
“The paperwork lasted years.”
Zoe groaned. “That is the most Dad answer possible.”
“Thank you.” “It wasn’t praise.”
“I’m keeping it.”
They drove home through Maple Glen. The HOA meetings were still painfully boring.
Carl had retired as president and celebrated by refusing every request to return. Linda rarely attended.
Her father’s ramp remained visible from the street. Marcus still thought the handrail looked excellent.
Of course it did. His company built it.