Imani texted a number June had passed, one line: I don’t want a dinner. Patrice wrote: I will not ask for one. Imani wrote: Thank you. Thank you was the whole relation for a month. Patrice did not push. Pushing was how a empty chair became a claim. She was not claiming a child she had not raised. She was refusing a lie. The refusal was enough work.
Christmas was quiet. Derrick asked if he could send the usual and also a gift with his name. Patrice said the usual was the truth and the gift could have his name if Lorraine said yes. Lorraine said a coat, not a visit. He sent a coat. Imani wore it to work and did not send a photo. No photo was a boundary. He accepted the boundary. Acceptance was new and late. Patrice watched him accept and did not score it. Scoring was Vanessa’s risk. Patrice was done being a scoreboard.
Vanessa came for New Year’s and did not stand behind a chair. She sat. Sitting was the apology available. Patrice said, “You were right and you were loud.” Vanessa said, “I can do right quieter.” They ate pie left from a different tin, a pie somebody had cut. Cutting was a ordinary. Ordinary was the rebuild. Derrick did the dishes. Dishes were a grammar. He used it.
In the spring Imani graduated. Lorraine sent a time and said he could stand in the back. Patrice said she would not come. Coming would have turned a cap into a reveal. Derrick stood in the back. He left after the names, before the cake, this time because Lorraine had asked for before the cake, not because a wife was around the corner. He told Patrice the difference. She said, “The difference is the point.” He said yes. Yes was thin. They used it.