Chapter 20: The Right Dad

The next Father & Child Breakfast was the second Friday of September.

The banner had new hearts.

The principal had put a line at the bottom in marker: Parents, guardians and invited family only.

Poppy was eight months old and sat on my lap in a yellow sweater, chewing the corner of a paper napkin.

Eli had asked me to come.

He had written it on a card in pencil and handed it to Caleb with the bread order.

Maggie, you can sit at the next table. Grandpa says you are family of the school now.

I had laughed, and then I had put the card in my purse.

Caleb stood against the back wall with his arms folded and flour on his sleeves.

He had not asked if he could come, and I had not asked him not to.

"Welcome," the principal said into the microphone. "There are pancakes, and I'm told the strawberries are already gone."

People laughed.

Eli's grandfather sat at the front table in a clean suit, with a dog hair on his sleeve.

Eli sat beside him in a collared shirt that was a size too big, with his hair wet down.

His grandfather had a hand on the back of the chair, and he kept it there.

The seat on Eli's other side was empty.

Eli watched the door.

I watched him watch it.

At ten past eight, the door opened, and Russ came in.

He had shaved, and he wore a plain brown work shirt, and he did not have on the gray jacket.