Chapter 6: The Pickup Line

Neil was parked in the front of the school pickup line at three o'clock.

He had washed the car.

I saw it from the far end of the lot, where I had parked on purpose, behind a row of minivans.

Parents stood on the sidewalk in small clusters with their phones out.

They weren't looking at their phones. They were looking at him.

"That's the husband," a woman near me whispered. "From the video."

"The therapist's husband?"

"I'd know that jacket anywhere."

I stayed in my seat.

The doors opened, and the students came down the steps in a loose crowd.

Miles was near the back with his cello case on one shoulder.

He saw his father's car, and he saw mine.

He didn't hesitate.

He started walking toward me, and Neil's door swung open.

"Miles!" Neil strode across the sidewalk with his arms already out. "Miles, buddy. Over here. We've got your room all set up."

"I'm going home with Mom."

"Not this week." Neil kept his voice light, for the crowd. "We talked about it. Your mother needs some space."

"You texted her. You never talked to me."

"Get in the car, son."

A boy in the crowd said, "Oh, man," and somebody laughed nervously.

I got out of my car and stood by the door.

Miles set his cello case carefully on the ground.

Then he took the new phone out of his blazer pocket, the one Neil had bought him in March.