A Father In Training
Chapter 14 - A Father In Training
Julian approached fatherhood like a failing hotel renovation.
He made lists.
School schedule.
Allergies.
Favorite books.
Foods Theo refused to eat.
Foods Theo claimed to refuse but stole from other plates.
Emergency contacts.
Rules about screens.
Rules about gifts.
Rules about not turning every afternoon into an event.
Marissa crossed out half the list.
“He needs you, not a project plan.”
“I am better at project plans.”
“I noticed.”
Julian’s first solo afternoon with Theo began badly.
He hired a private chef.
Theo wanted grilled cheese.
He reserved a museum wing.
Theo wanted to feed ducks.
He arranged a chauffeured car.
Theo wanted the train.
By sunset, Julian’s polished shoes were muddy, his coat pocket held stale bread, and Theo had named three ducks after board members.
“This one is Celeste,” Theo said, pointing at the loudest duck.
Julian choked on a laugh.
They sat on a park bench.
Theo’s mood changed without warning.
“Did you love Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
Julian looked across the water.
“I care about her deeply. But loving someone does not mean they owe you another chance.”
Theo kicked one shoe against the bench.
“Would you like one?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to ask?”
“Not until asking would be fair.”
Theo considered this complicated adult answer.
“Mom says trust is like a piano.”
Julian waited.
“You have to tune it, and if you hit it when you’re mad, it sounds bad.”
“That sounds like your mother.”
“She also said rich people think buying a new piano fixes everything.”
Julian smiled.
“That also sounds like your mother.”
When he returned Theo home, Marissa saw the muddy shoes and stale bread.
“What happened?”
“Fatherhood,” Julian said.
May you like
Theo nodded solemnly.
“He survived.”
