Chapter 47 - The Child in the Background
On Friday, Isabel brought home another picture.
This one showed the twins on a stage.
Nico stood beside a large gray cloud. Noah held a paper in front of him. Lena and I sat in the audience.
There was a small purple shape near the edge.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Me.”
“Why are you over there?”
“That’s where I was.”
I remembered the performance.
Isabel had sat beside Caroline because the seat between Lena and me held our coats.
Caroline had entertained her. We had thanked her afterward.
I could not remember asking Isabel whether she had enjoyed herself.
Lena placed the picture on the table.
“What did you think of the play?”
“The storm was loud.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I had a song at breakfast.”
The room went quiet.
“What song?” I asked.
She looked at us.
“The one you didn’t hear.”
That evening, after the children were asleep, Lena took out the family calendar.
Appointments.
Reading support.
School meetings.
Coursework.
Foundation commitments.
A check-in with Noah’s therapist.
Nico’s workshop afternoon.
Isabel’s breakfast appeared between two entries, partly covered by a reminder about a report.
Lena sat down.
“She’s been getting whatever fits.”
I wanted to object.
We read to her.
We took her places.
We listened to the long, wandering explanations she delivered while we made dinner.
But I could hear the weakness in my defense before speaking.
“She’s usually happy,” I said.
Lena looked up.
“So we keep asking her to wait.”
The next morning, I took Isabel to the grocery store.
No announcement.
No expensive outing meant to repair what we had missed.
Just the two of us and a list.
In the cereal aisle, she asked, “Did you bring me because I was sad?”
“I brought you because I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Because I was sad.”
I stopped the cart.
“Yes. I noticed I hadn’t been doing enough of that.”
She considered the answer.
Then chose a cereal we did not need.
Near the checkout, she looked at a photograph on my phone.
The twins as babies.
Lena between them.
“Mama saved them.”
“She helped them feel safe.”
“And you helped Ava.”
I nodded.
“And everybody helped Charlie.”
“As much as we could.”
She leaned against the cart.
“Nothing happened to me.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have anything for people to tell.”
I put the phone away.
May you like
She was waiting for an answer.
This time, I understood that she was asking a much bigger question than whether we had enough milk.
