“I taught him some of this.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Every time Eric created a problem, I fixed it.”
She stared into her coffee.
“Rent. Cars. Missed deadlines. Bad decisions.”
Her eyes moved toward Chloe.
“I told myself I was helping my son succeed.”
She swallowed.
“Maybe I was teaching him that somebody else would always carry the consequences.”
Three weeks later, Eric arrived unannounced while Chloe and I were visiting Barbara.
He stormed into the kitchen.
“Tell Claire she’s being unreasonable.”
Barbara continued stirring her coffee.
“No.”
He stared at her.
“You’re my mother.”
“Exactly.”
Then he noticed Chloe asleep nearby.
Something in his face changed.
He walked closer.
Nobody stopped him.
But nobody rushed to help him either.
He stood beside the bassinet.
Finally, he asked:
“Can I hold her?”
I looked at him.
“When was her last breathing treatment?”
He froze.
“I…”
“What medication is she taking?”
Silence.
“When is her next specialist appointment?”
He looked down.
“I don’t know.”
“No.”
I stood.
“You don’t.”
His eyes filled with something I hadn’t seen before.
Not anger.
Shame.
I looked at Chloe.
“You can learn to be her father.”
He nodded.
“But you don’t get to visit the role whenever it’s convenient.”
“I understand.”
Barbara looked at him.
“Do you?”
He didn’t answer.
I picked Chloe up.
Then carefully placed her in his arms.
Eric looked terrified.
“Support her head.”
“I know.”
Barbara snorted.
