His grin faded, and a perplexed frown appeared as the color drained from his face. Ava’s phone had dropped one inch. “What the hell is this?” It says ‘Happy Father’s Day… to Mom!’” Kyle blinked as if someone had thrown cold water at him.
Open This, Too
Emma didn’t miss a beat. “I made it for Mommy. She’s the one who helps with my homework, makes me dinner, goes to my school plays, and takes me to the doctor when I’m sick.
That’s what being a parent is, right?”
The silence stretched like taffy until I chose to end it. “Oh, and since you’re here,” I continued, taking out a manila folder from the kitchen drawer, “I printed a few things you might want to look at.”
I handed him a tidy stack of papers. Kyle’s mouth fell as he thumbed through the missed child support spreadsheet I’d been keeping, court letters he’d disregarded, and a letter from my lawyer explaining next measures.
A tidy little bundle of reality, sorted and marked for easier reading. Ava had been reading it over his shoulder, but suddenly she moved back, her voice keen with the rage that comes from being lied to. “You told me everything was fine with your daughter.
That you had joint custody and your ex was just being difficult.”
Kyle stammered, “I-uh… it’s complicated—”
“Complicated?” Ava’s voice pitched higher. “This says you haven’t paid child support in six months. That you’ve missed 12 scheduled visits.
Twelve!”
I stepped aside and motioned toward the front door with the courteous animosity that takes years to master. “I’m sure you’re both busy,” I responded with a slight smile. “And I do not want to ruin your day with facts.
“Happy Father’s Day!”
Kyle shuffled to the door, Ava trailing after him. The car doors banged, the motor started, and they drove away, into whatever conflict awaited them. Emma took up her card.
Kyle must have dropped it when browsing through my small Father’s Day gift. She looked up at me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Baby.
“You did everything correctly.”
We went to the kitchen, put on our matching aprons, and cooked chocolate chip cookies as if nothing had occurred. I kissed her forehead, allowing that single sentence to sink in deeper than any trial victory or social media takedown ever could.
