Chapter 3
Rachel stared at me for several seconds.
Then she laughed nervously.
“This is ridiculous.”
I didn’t move.
“What else have you done?”
“Nothing.”
Ethan stood near the doorway.
I looked at him.
His face told me enough.
“Ethan?”
Rachel immediately turned.
“Do not interrogate him.”
I snapped my eyes back to her.
“You don’t get to tell me what to ask my own son.”
“You’re turning him against me.”
“He’s fourteen, Rachel. He has his own memory.”
She leaned back in the chair.
“You have no idea how difficult he can be when you aren’t home.”
I felt Ethan tense behind me.
“What does that mean?”
“He ignores me. He leaves dishes around. He rolls his eyes. He acts like I’m some stranger invading his house.”
“You are the adult.”
“And I’m supposed to accept disrespect?”
“No. You’re supposed to parent without making him feel unwanted.”
Rachel stood.
“I tried.”
“By making him eat alone?”
“That happened twice.”
Ethan spoke.
“Eleven times.”
Rachel spun toward him.
“You counted?”
“Yes.”
His answer was immediate.
“I started counting after the third time.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Something in my chest hurt.
Children shouldn’t have to count the times they’re excluded from their own family.
“What else?” I asked.
Rachel shook her head.
“This is insane.”
Ethan swallowed.
“She doesn’t let me sit in the front seat.”
Rachel threw up her hands.
“Oh, please.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“She says it’s her seat even when she isn’t in the car.”
Rachel rolled her eyes.
“That is not abuse.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
I looked at Ethan.
“Keep going.”
He hesitated.
“She changed the Wi-Fi password once and only gave it to Ava and Sophie.”
“For one night,” Rachel said.
“Three days.”
“You were being punished.”
“For getting a B-minus.”
Rachel looked at me.
“You said his grades were important.”
“I didn’t tell you to isolate him from the household.”
“He still had his phone.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Ethan’s shoulders lowered slightly.
Like he was finally realizing somebody believed him.
“What else?”
He rubbed his palms against his jeans.
“She throws away stuff Mom sends over.”
Rachel’s head snapped toward him.
“That’s a lie.”
“The cookies?”
“They were stale.”
“They were baked that morning.”
“Enough.”
“No,” I said.
Rachel looked at me.
“We are not doing this.”
“We are absolutely doing this.”
I turned to Ethan.
“What else did she throw away?”
“The birthday card from Grandma.”
My stomach dropped.
“My mother?”
He nodded.
“She said it was weird because Grandma signed it ‘to our favorite grandson.’”
I closed my eyes.
My mother only had one grandson.
It had been a joke.
A harmless line she had used since Ethan was little.
Rachel had somehow turned it into competition.
“She said Ava might see it and feel bad.”
“Did Ava see it?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“Not until I got it out of the trash.”
Rachel looked embarrassed now.
Not remorseful.
Embarrassed.
That difference mattered.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Ethan looked at her.
Then at me.
“There’s something in the garage.”
Rachel went pale.
“Ethan.”
His eyes widened slightly.
I heard the warning in her voice.
So did he.
I stepped between them.
“What’s in the garage?”
“Nothing,” Rachel said.
Ethan whispered, “My stuff.”
“What stuff?”
He walked toward the garage door.
I followed.
Rachel moved after us.
“Daniel, stop.”
I opened the door.
The garage looked normal at first.
Our SUV.
Shelves.
Holiday decorations.
A lawn mower.
Then Ethan walked behind a stack of storage containers and pointed.
Three cardboard boxes sat against the wall.
I recognized his name written on them.
His books.
Baseball trophies.
Old action figures.
A framed photograph of Ethan and me at a Cubs game.
The blanket my mother had made him when he was born.
His possessions.
Packed away.
I looked at Rachel.
“What is this?”
She crossed her arms.
“He never uses that stuff.”
“The picture was on his bedroom wall.”
“He has other pictures.”
“Why did you pack his things?”
“We needed room.”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer.
Ethan did.
“Madison.”
I turned.
“What?”
He looked toward Rachel.
“She said Madison might stay with us after school starts.”
Rachel’s expression hardened.
“Claire is going through a difficult time.”
“And you were going to put Madison in Ethan’s room?”
“Only when Ethan was with Laura.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“And where was I supposed to sleep when I came back?”
“We would figure it out.”
“You packed his belongings before figuring it out?”
Rachel looked at me.
“You’re making this sound horrible.”
“It is horrible.”
“It’s practical.”
“It’s his room.”
“He’s here half the month.”
“He lives here.”
“So does everyone else!”
Her voice echoed through the garage.
Ethan flinched.
I noticed.
Rachel noticed too.
Neither of us mentioned it.
I walked over and picked up the framed photo.
The glass had cracked in one corner.
“Did you tell him to pack these?”
“No.”
Ethan spoke quietly.
“I came home from Mom’s and they were already out here.”
I looked at him.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Three weeks.
I had been on a business trip in Dallas.
Rachel had told me Ethan wanted to redecorate his room.
Suddenly I remembered the conversation.
He’s growing up.
He doesn’t need all that little-kid stuff anymore.
I had believed her.
I had even agreed that maybe he needed a cleaner room.
Guilt cut through me.
“How many times have you lied to me about him?”
Rachel stepped closer.
“I wasn’t lying.”
“You told me he packed this himself.”
“I said he wanted to change his room.”
“He didn’t.”
“He complains about his room constantly.”
Ethan frowned.
“No, I don’t.”
“You said your desk was too small.”
“That doesn’t mean I wanted you to put my childhood in boxes.”
Rachel shook her head.
“You see? This is what I deal with. Everything becomes dramatic.”
I stared at her.
“He is allowed to care about his belongings.”
She crossed her arms again.
“And I am allowed to run my house.”
I nearly laughed.
“Your house?”
“Our house.”
“That isn’t what you said.”
“Oh my God, Daniel.”
“No. Say it again.”
She looked away.
I placed the photo carefully on top of the box.
Then I pulled out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Changing the trip.”
Her expression shifted.
“To what?”
“There is no trip.”
Silence.
“You’re canceling Florida?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Dad, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.”
Rachel stepped forward.
“We spent thousands of dollars.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“You cannot make that decision by yourself.”
“You already did.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I continued.
“You chose who was family enough to travel. You booked Madison without asking me. You told my son I didn’t want him. You packed his belongings away. And now I’m supposed to smile beside you at Disney World?”
Ava’s voice came from the garage doorway.
“We’re not going to Disney?”
All three of us turned.
She stood there with Sophie.
Rachel looked furious.
“I told you girls to stay upstairs.”
Sophie’s eyes filled.
“But I packed my princess dress.”
I hated this.
None of the children had caused it.
I walked toward them.
“We might still take a trip later.”
“When?” Ava asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Because of Ethan?”
Rachel spoke too fast.
“This isn’t Ethan’s fault.”
I looked at her.
At least she had said that.
Then Ava asked, “Is it Mom’s fault?”
Rachel’s face tightened.
I knelt.
“This is between the adults.”
Ava looked at Ethan.
“I still want him to come.”
Sophie nodded.
“Me too.”
Ethan wiped his nose quickly.
Rachel’s eyes dropped.
For a moment, she looked almost ashamed.
Then her phone rang.
She checked the screen.
Claire.
Her sister.
She walked into the house and answered.
I heard pieces of the conversation.
“No, I don’t know.”
“Yes, he canceled it.”
“No, Madison didn’t do anything.”
Then Rachel’s voice sharpened.
“I know what I promised.”
I looked at Ethan.
“You okay?”
He shrugged.
“No.”
Fair answer.
Ava walked up to him.
“Were you really not coming?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He glanced at me.
I shook my head slightly.
He understood.
Not in front of them.
“We had a misunderstanding,” he said.
Ava crossed her arms.
“Mom said you wanted to stay with Aunt Lisa.”
My sister.
Another lie.
Ethan looked exhausted.
“I didn’t.”
Sophie grabbed his hand.
“You can sleep in my room if Madison takes yours.”
Rachel had just stepped back into the garage.
She stopped.
I looked at Sophie.
“What did you say?”
Sophie suddenly realized something was wrong.
“Nothing.”
I softened my voice.
“Sophie, did someone tell you Madison was taking Ethan’s room?”
She glanced at Rachel.
That glance told me everything.
“Sophie?”
“Mom said Madison needed it because Ethan has two bedrooms.”
Ethan stared at Rachel.
Ava’s mouth fell open.
“You said Ethan was okay with it.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Girls, go inside.”
This time neither moved.
Ava looked angry.
“You lied to us too.”
“Ava.”
“You said Ethan wanted Madison to have his room.”
“I said—”
“You did!”
Ava’s eyes filled with tears.
“You said he didn’t like staying here anymore.”
Ethan looked stunned.
I felt another piece of the picture fall into place.
Rachel hadn’t only been pushing Ethan away.
She had been teaching the girls that he wanted to leave.
Slowly.
Quietly.
One lie at a time.
“Girls,” I said, “inside.”
They finally obeyed.
Rachel and I stood facing each other.
Ethan remained beside me.
She whispered, “I never wanted this.”
I replied, “Then what did you want?”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
“I wanted my daughters to come first once.”
Ethan recoiled.
I stared at her.
“They’re my daughters too.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked at Ethan.
Then back at me.
May you like
“I’m tired of sharing you with a family you had before me.”
And finally, after six years, the truth was standing in the garage with us.
