“I looked at Miles and saw Marcus's face.”
“I reached for what felt familiar.”
He swallowed.
“And every time I did, I probably made Darius disappear a little.”
Renee cried quietly.
Walter continued:
“You were right to protect him from that.”
She looked up.
“But not like this.”
“No.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She nodded.
“For the first time, maybe.”
The boys entered.
Walter looked toward them.
He immediately saw Marcus's glove in Miles's hand.
His face changed.
“Oh.”
Miles stood in front of him.
“You said I lost it.”
He looked at Renee.
“I know.”
“Don't say that.”
She stopped.
Miles looked toward Walter.
“Did Dad really threaten not to let you see us?”
Walter stared.
“You heard.”
“Yes.”
Walter nodded.
“He did.”
Darius looked at him.
“Because of me?”
“Because of how I was acting.”
Walter stood.
He faced Darius.
“I owe you something.”
Darius looked uncomfortable.
Walter continued:
“When Marcus married your mother, I treated you politely.”
“That's not the same as family.”
“No.”
Darius said nothing.
“I told myself family would come with time.”
“Then Miles was born and I stopped trying.”
Walter's eyes filled.
“Marcus did not.”
“No.”
“And I made his job harder.”
Darius looked at the floor.
Walter said:
“I am sorry.”
Darius whispered:
“Okay.”
Walter did not ask whether he was forgiven.
Good.
The birthday breakfast was ruined.
Nobody pretended otherwise.
The pancakes had gone cold.
The candles bent into wax stubs.
The sneakers sat in their box.
The balloons floated stupidly above a room where four people had dismantled two years of family history before ten in the morning.
Renee stood.
“I should leave.”
Miles looked at her.
“It’s your house.”
“I know.”
She wiped her face.
“I mean the room.”
Miles looked toward the birthday cake on the counter.
He had not even seen it.
Chocolate.
His favorite.
His father's favorite too.
“Can we just eat?”
Everyone stared.
Miles shrugged.
“I’m hungry.”
Darius laughed.
Walter did too.
Renee cried harder.
Miles groaned.
“Can people stop crying?”
“No,” Walter said.
“Apparently not.”
They sat.