Chương 16
They spent Christmas separately.
Ryan ate with Kendra’s brother, according to Margaret.
Ethan did not ask why Kendra’s family still invited him.
Noah got a new soccer ball from Lauren.
Not the expensive one.
Ethan had secretly bought the expensive one too, then returned it after remembering that guilt was not a financial plan.
Noah never knew.
In January, Ryan called Ethan through Leah.
He requested one conversation.
No legal purpose.
No settlement issue.
Ethan initially refused.
Two days later, he changed his mind.
They met in a coffee shop halfway between their homes.
Public.
Daytime.
Ryan was already there when Ethan arrived.
He looked thinner.
No gray fitted T-shirt this time. Just a navy sweatshirt and jeans.
No black wristwatch.
Ethan noticed the absence and disliked himself for noticing.
Ryan stood.
Neither offered a hand.
They sat.
For nearly a minute, neither spoke.
The espresso machine shrieked behind the counter.
A toddler dropped a plastic cup.
Ryan finally said, “This is awful.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“Good start.”
“I had a whole thing I was going to say.”
“What happened?”
“I saw you.”
“That’ll do it.”
Ryan stared at his coffee.
“I don’t remember deciding to put the ball on the grill.”
Ethan felt his body stiffen.
“I’m not saying I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“I remember thinking Noah was laughing at me.”
“He was eight.”
“I know.”
“Was he laughing?”
“No.”
Ethan waited.
Ryan rubbed his thumb against the cardboard sleeve.
“He and that other kid were laughing about something. I thought it was me.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yes.”
Ethan had not expected agreement.
Ryan continued.
“My car was about to be taken. I had gotten another email that morning. I was behind. I had told everybody I was fine.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.”
“I know.”
Ethan looked away.
A woman at the next table was highlighting lines in a textbook.
Ryan said, “When the ball rolled toward the driveway, I thought it hit the car.”
“It didn’t.”
“I know.”
“You checked?”
“After.”
“So you threatened him before checking.”
“Yes.”
Ethan felt the old anger rise.
Ryan saw it.
“I’m not asking you to understand.”
“Good.”
“I’m trying to tell you what happened in my head.”
“I don’t care what happened in your head.”
Ryan nodded.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Ethan said, “That’s not true.”
Ryan looked up.
“I care because I need to know whether you’re going to do it again.”
Ryan swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan stared at him.
Ryan held his gaze.
“I could tell you no.”
“That would be nice.”
“It would also be bullshit.”
Ethan leaned back.
Ryan continued.
“I thought I was a guy who got mad sometimes. I thought Kendra exaggerated. I thought your mom worried too much. I thought my old boss was a coward. I thought Brad was disrespectful. I thought you were smug. I thought everybody was doing something to me.”
He stopped.
His hands had started to tremble.
He tucked them beneath the table.
“I don’t know yet what I am if I stop telling that story.”
Ethan said nothing.
Ryan looked at him.
“I’m not going near Noah unless you say I can.”
“I won’t.”
“I figured.”
“I mean not for a long time.”
“I figured that too.”
Ryan looked back at the coffee.
“I’m sorry I called you unstable.”
Ethan gave him a flat look.
“That one bothering you?”
“A little.”
“It was funny, in context.”
Ryan laughed once.
The sound surprised both of them.
Then Ethan said, “I’m sorry I shoved you as hard as I did.”
Ryan stopped laughing.
“You didn’t have to say that.”
“I know.”
“Why are you?”
“Because it’s true.”
Ryan rubbed his wrist unconsciously.
“It still hurts sometimes.”
“I paid the bill.”
“That’s very American of you.”
Ethan almost smiled.
Ryan said, “I did reach for the poker.”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t going to hit you.”
“You don’t know that.”
Ryan looked up.
Ethan continued.
“You said you don’t remember deciding to grab it.”
Ryan’s face tightened.
Then he nodded.
“Fair.”
They sat there another half hour.
No breakthrough occurred.
No embrace.
No promise to rebuild the family.
Ryan asked about Noah.
Ethan said he was doing well.
Ryan asked if he still played soccer.
Ethan said yes.
Ryan looked relieved.
Ethan resented the relief.
Then felt ashamed of resenting it.
When they stood to leave, Ryan said, “Do you hate me?”
Ethan put on his jacket.
“Less than I did.”
Ryan nodded.
“That’s something.”
“Don’t turn it into more.”
“I won’t.”
Outside, they walked to different cars.
Ryan drove a used Honda Accord.
Ethan pretended not to notice.
By spring, Margaret had another barbecue.
She asked Ethan first.
Ryan would not be there.
Ethan said yes.
The same picnic table stood beneath the tree.
The flower bed had filled in along the fence. The playground set needed a new coat of stain. The grill had a replacement lid because Margaret said the old hinge never sat properly after Ryan slammed the ball against it.
She refused to let Ethan pay.
Megan brought pasta salad.
Brad brought too much beer.
Lauren came for an hour even though the divorce had technically freed her from all Cole family gatherings for life.
Noah wore bright blue shorts.
He had grown almost two inches.
He kicked a black-and-white soccer ball with Megan’s grandson near the far side of the lawn.
Ethan found himself tracking every kick.
He hated that.
He tried to talk to Brad instead.
Brad was explaining something about refinancing his house.
Ethan nodded at appropriate intervals.
A soccer ball flew past the edge of his vision.
His body turned before he could stop it.
The ball struck a picnic-table leg.
Nobody cared.
Noah ran after it.
Ethan looked back at Brad.
“You were saying?”
Brad smiled.
“You’re getting better.”
“At what?”
“Pretending not to watch him.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Shut up.”
“Fair.”
Across the yard, Margaret opened the grill.
The metal lid lifted smoothly.
No rattle.
No burned rubber.
No threat.
Just burgers.
Noah trapped the ball under one sneaker and looked toward Ethan.
“Dad!”
“What?”
“Watch!”
Ethan’s shoulders tightened automatically.
Noah took three steps and kicked.
The ball arced high across the lawn.
Too high.
For one terrible instant it looked as if it might clear the fence.
Instead it struck the wooden boards and bounced back into the grass.
Noah laughed.
So did the other boy.
Ethan almost told them to keep it low.
The words rose all the way to his mouth.
He stopped them.
Margaret glanced at him from the grill.
She had heard the silence where his warning would have been.
She smiled.
He gave her a look that told her not to make anything of it.
She went back to the burgers.
Noah kicked again.
The ball rolled past Ethan’s chair.
He stopped it with the side of his shoe.
Noah waited.
For a second, Ethan looked down at the black-and-white panels.
Then he passed the ball back.
Not gently.
Not hard.
May you like
Just enough.
Noah trapped it cleanly and ran.
