Chương 7
“Good morning, Master Noah.”
“Dad canceled the wedding.”
Mrs. Bell’s spatula paused in the air.
“I see.”
“It wasn’t because of the dress.”
“I did not think it was.”
Noah climbed onto a stool.
Adrian sat beside him.
Mrs. Bell placed three pancakes on Noah’s plate and none on Adrian’s.
“Could I have one?” he asked.
“You know where they are.”
Noah looked between them.
Adrian got up, took a plate from the cabinet, and served himself.
The pancake tore in half.
Mrs. Bell watched without helping.
“I deserve that,” he said.
“That is not for me to decide.”
Noah poured too much syrup. It reached the edge of the plate and collected beneath the bottom pancake.
“Are you angry with Dad?” he asked Mrs. Bell.
“Yes.”
Adrian looked at her.
She met his eyes. “He asked.”
Noah cut a pancake into tiny squares.
“Are you angry with Miss Rowan?”
Mrs. Bell took the pan from the heat. “Yes.”
“More?”
“That is not useful arithmetic.”
Noah appeared to think about this. “Three plus two is useful arithmetic.”
“It is.”
“Angry is not numbers.”
“No.”
He ate one square.
Adrian waited until Noah had finished half the plate before mentioning school.
“We have a meeting at St. Matthew’s this morning.”
Noah stopped chewing.
“You and me,” Adrian added. “Mrs. Bell can come.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t make me.”
Adrian looked at the torn pancake on his plate.
“You don’t have to attend the whole meeting,” he said. “But I need to tell the school you’re staying, and I need to hear what has been difficult.”
“You can go.”
“I could.”
Noah’s fork moved through the syrup.
“But I think I have gone without you too often,” Adrian said. “I’d like us to go together.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It may not.”
“You go without me all the time.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re good at it.”
Mrs. Bell turned toward the sink, hiding something that might have been a smile.
Adrian nodded. “That’s fair.”
Noah ate another square.
“What if they send me to the tree school?”
“Linden Grove?”
“The brown one.”
“They cannot take you anywhere today.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Next week?”
“No.”
“What if I shove somebody?”
“We’ll deal with what happened. We won’t send you away for it.”
“What if I do something really bad?”
Adrian chose his words slowly. “There may be consequences. But leaving home will not be a punishment.”
Noah’s forehead wrinkled.
“What is consequences?”
“Things that happen because of what we do.”
“Like no screen time?”
“Sometimes.”
“Like no wedding?”
Adrian looked at him.
“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes bigger than screen time.”
The meeting at St. Matthew’s began badly.
The head of school, Dr. Miriam Knox, was a compact woman with silver-framed glasses and the patient expression of someone who had learned not to react too quickly around wealthy parents. She sat at a round table with Noah’s teacher, the school counselor, Adrian, Mrs. Bell, and Noah, who occupied a chair near the door with his satchel across his body and his knees drawn close.
Dr. Knox placed a printed copy of Adrian’s revocation letter in front of her.
“We will honor this immediately,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“However, we need to discuss the circumstances that led us to believe a residential assessment had been approved.”
Adrian folded his hands. “Celeste represented herself as Noah’s stepmother.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn’t.”
“We understand that now.”
“You should have verified it.”
Dr. Knox did not look away. “We should have. We also received educational consent forms bearing your signature.”
“I signed without understanding them.”
“That is serious.”
“I’m aware.”
“Mr. Vale, our staff attempted to contact you repeatedly.”
Mrs. Bell shifted beside him.
Adrian felt the urge to explain the travel, the company acquisition, the hospital bills that still arrived under Elena’s name because no one could persuade one department to update its records. He said none of it.
“I did not respond,” he said.
Dr. Knox opened a folder. “Noah left the school building twice. He has had three panic episodes. He has slept during class. He pushed a student down near the reading corner.”
Noah stared at the floor.
His teacher, Ms. Grant, leaned toward him. “You’re not in trouble right now.”
He pulled the satchel closer.
Adrian looked at her. “What happened before he pushed the student?”
Ms. Grant glanced at the counselor.
“The other child was talking about mothers,” she said. “It was during a family heritage assignment.”
“What did the child say?”
“I wasn’t close enough to hear the first exchange.”
Noah spoke without looking up. “He said dead moms don’t count.”
Ms. Grant’s face changed. “Noah, I didn’t know that.”
“He said I couldn’t put mine on the paper because she wasn’t in my family anymore.”
Adrian felt Mrs. Bell’s hand close around the strap of her handbag.
“What did you do?” Dr. Knox asked.
“I pushed him.”
“What happened after?”
“He cried.”
“And what did you do?”
Noah’s answer was almost inaudible. “I gave him my dinosaur eraser.”
Ms. Grant took off her glasses and cleaned them though they were not dirty.
The counselor, a young man named Peter Hall, opened another folder.
“There is more context,” he said. “Noah has been asking staff whether a parent can be replaced legally after death. He also asked whether a new wife can send a child away.”
Adrian looked at Noah.
The boy’s eyes remained on his shoes.
“When did he ask that?” Adrian said.
“Three weeks ago.”
Before the gown was cut.
Before the luncheon.
Before Adrian signed the papers.
The clues had existed. None had reached him because he had built a life in which information traveled around him, never through him.
Mr. Hall continued, “I recommended family grief counseling and individual support. Ms. Rowan said the family had already selected a higher level of care.”
“Did you speak to me?”
“I left two messages.”
“Did you email?”
“Yes.”
May you like
“Did you get a reply?”
“From your account.”
