He had planned to stay at a hotel and tell me about the arrangement the following day.
“Why didn’t you tell me before you left?” I asked.
“Because I knew you’d disagree.”
“And you thought that was a good reason to lie?”
“No.”
He sounded exhausted.
“I thought if I could get Tyler to stop, Lucas wouldn’t have to keep going through meetings and reliving everything.”
“You were trying to make the problem disappear without asking the person who was being hurt what he needed.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“I’m not interested in how it sounds, Derek. I’m interested in what you actually did.”
He was quiet.
Then he said, “I thought I could make it stop.”
I looked toward the stairs. Lucas’s basketball jersey was hanging over the banister.
For one evening, I’d watched my son relax, laugh, and enjoy himself without worrying about being mocked.
