Presence is its own kind of answer.
Eli looks over then, eyes skating around until his gaze snags on Sadie, and a meanness edges into his small, pinched face. He leans up on his toes and says something too low for me to hear against Carol’s shoulder as she bends toward him.
She smiles, brushing his hair back.
“That’s my polite boy,” she coos.
My gut tightens, and I don’t know why.
“Daddy!”
Sadie barrels toward me with Micah Jenks at her side, their backpacks bouncing and hair flying. She’s a bolt of sunshine in a purple unicorn hoodie and mismatched socks, the only part of my day that never feels heavy. Micah’s right there in her orbit, a calming presence, the way he always is. Kid’s got serious eyes for a six-year-old.
I crouch, catching her as she slams into me. “Hey, Sadie.”
She smells of crayons, apple juice, and the outdoors. The trifecta of first-grade survival.
“Micah said he wants to come over tomorrow,” she announces immediately. “Can he? Pleeease?”
Micah grins, showing the gap from a newly lost tooth.
“If my Aunt Marla says yes,” he adds, a little shy. “She’s the principal, you know?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. You told me.” I ruffle his hair. “We’ll see. Maybe after chores.”
Sadie beams ear to ear.
“Sadie!”
The sing-song voice carries across the sidewalk. Carol. Eli’s next to her still, clutching a perfect little laminated folder decorated with glitter stickers. He looks from my truck to Sadie, comparing.
Sadie stiffens against my side in a way only someone who knows her as well as I do would notice. Her hand, which had been flapping around as she talked, fumbles for my sleeve instead.
“Hi, Mrs. Spence,” Micah says politely, because of course he does.
Carol gives him a distracted smile.
“Hello, Micah. Tell your aunt I emailed her about the bake sale guidelines, would you?” Then she focuses on Sadie. “Eli showed me his English worksheet. It’s so sweet. Did you finish yours, Sadie?”
Sadie presses closer to my leg.
“Almost,” she mumbles, eyes on the ground.
English worksheet?What the hell is she talking about? Why does this seem to be hitting a sore spot?
Eli pipes up, smug. “I already did mine. Mom said it’s perfect.”
Sadie’s fingers curl tighter into my flannel. Her mouth opens, then closes.
“Okay, Sadie,” I bark out. “We have to go. Say goodbye to yourfriends.”
Eli shrinks back half an inch, then hides behind Carol again. She laughs lightly, as if he just said something adorable.
“Oh, kids,” she chuckles. “You must have had such a long day at school today. You’re all so tired.”
Micah shoots Sadie a little frown, confused why she’s gone quiet.
“I gotta go,” he tells us. “Bye, Sadie. Bye, Mr. Taylor.”
