Chapter 2 - The Story Noah Was Supposed to Tell
Richard did not question Noah in front of Mark and Claudia again.
He carried him into the small office behind the lodge kitchen while Elaine found dry socks and one of Richard’s old fleece pullovers. Noah sat on the leather couch with a mug of warm chocolate between both hands.
The wooden airplane rested beside him.
Richard crouched in front of the boy.
“You’re not in trouble.”
Noah watched the door.
“I know.”
“You sure?”
A small hesitation.
Then Noah shook his head.
That answer hurt more than Richard expected.
He kept his voice even.
“What were you supposed to say I forgot?”
Noah rubbed one thumb along the mug.
“That you forgot my airplane.”
Richard frowned.
“I’d never seen it.”
“I know.”
Noah explained in fragments.
That afternoon he had gone into the old workshop behind the mudroom to finish sanding the airplane. Richard had given him permission weeks earlier to use the scrap bin whenever an adult was nearby.
Claudia found him there.
She told him Richard had forbidden him from entering the workshop.
Noah said that was not true.
Claudia answered, “Grandpa forgets things now.”
Then Mark arrived.
Instead of correcting her, he told Noah that adults sometimes had to “help Grandpa remember what really happened.”
Richard felt something tighten in his chest.
“What did they want you to tell me?”
“That you said I couldn’t make the plane.”
“Why?”
Noah shrugged.
“Mom said if everybody keeps correcting you, maybe you’ll finally listen.”
Richard sat back.
Months earlier, after knee surgery, he had forgotten a supplier appointment while taking prescription pain medication. A week later he left his truck running outside the hardware store.
Mark had been worried.
Richard had been embarrassed.
But his doctor had adjusted the medication, and nothing similar had happened since.
He had assumed the family had moved on.
Apparently Mark and Claudia had not.
The office door opened.
Mark stood there.
“I need to talk to you without a six-year-old interpreting adult conversations.”
Richard rose.
“No.”
“Dad.”
“You put him outside in January.”
“He had his coat.”
Noah looked at Richard.
“I didn’t.”
Mark stopped.
Richard looked at his son.
“What?”
“Mom took it because I kept trying to go around the porch.”
Richard’s gaze moved slowly back to Mark.
Mark’s first reaction was not shock.
It was irritation.
“Claudia said he wouldn’t stay put.”
Richard stared at him.
“You knew?”
“I knew she sent him outside.”
“Without a coat?”
Mark rubbed a hand over his mouth.
“I didn’t know that part.”
It might even have been true.
But Richard noticed something else.
Mark had argued about the coat.
He had not argued about the lie.
Richard picked up the airplane.
On the underside, written faintly in pencil, was a date.
Noah saw him looking.
“That’s when Daddy said the lodge would be his soon.”
May you like
Mark’s eyes snapped toward the plane.
Richard finally understood why his son had reached for it first.
Related Stories
