“FAMILY SKILLS DAY.”
I blinked.
“What?”
Noah rubbed his nose.
“At school.”
Then I remembered.
Of course.
Family Skills Day at Cedarbrook Elementary School.
I had signed the permission slip myself.
Students would rotate through stations:
basic cooking,
sewing,
gardening,
bicycle maintenance,
simple tools,
other practical skills.
Parents or trusted adults could attend.
I had promised Noah I would rearrange my work schedule.
“I know about Family Skills Day.”
Noah looked at the ground.
“The kids keep saying what their dads are going to do.”
There it was.
Dads.
My heart tightened.
Noah saw my expression change.
Immediately, his did too.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He said nothing.
“Noah?”
“I didn’t want you to be sad.”
I crouched.
“Why would this make me sad?”
He twisted one backpack strap around his fist.
“Because you already do everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“All the mom things.”
His voice got smaller.
“And all the dad things.”
My throat tightened.
“So I thought…”
He hesitated.
“…maybe I could learn some.”
I reached for him.
But he wasn’t finished.
“I didn’t want to give you more homework.”
That nearly broke me.
“WHO TOLD YOU THAT?”
“No one.”
“Then why do you think you’re homework?”
“I don’t.”
“You just said—”
Noah looked away.
And suddenly—
I understood there was another piece.
Marcus knew it too.
“Tell her.”
Noah’s eyes filled again.
“I heard you.”
My hands stopped.
“Heard me doing what?”
“Talking to Mason’s mom.”
The schoolyard seemed to disappear.
I remembered.
A conversation weeks earlier.
One Noah was never supposed to hear.
But before I could address it, Marcus closed the little red toolbox.
Click.
Then looked at me.
“Before you start blaming yourself…”
I waited.
“…there’s something else you should know.”
“What?”
Marcus rested his hand on the handle.
“Noah didn’t come looking for me.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He didn’t need me.”
Marcus glanced at my son.
“I needed him to come back.”
