“Mommy, that’s the strawberry man from breakfast club.”
Robert closed his eyes.
Not like a man caught.
Like a man suddenly seen.
“Mommy, that’s the strawberry man from breakfast club.”
Alice’s hand trembled around the little photograph.
“What breakfast club?”
Robert took a slow breath.
“At the elementary school.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You told me Wednesday mornings were client breakfasts.”
Alice’s hand trembled around the little photograph.
“They are breakfasts,” he said quietly. “Just not with clients.”
Lucy had already pulled more photos from her backpack.
“This one has the crossing guard,” she said, laying them on the little table between our chairs. “And this one has pancakes. And this is when he gave Eli extra syrup because Eli was crying.”
Robert let out a small, embarrassed laugh.
Lucy had already pulled more photos from her backpack.
The woman with the ID badge appeared in another photo, handing out cartons of milk. In the corner, Robert stood behind a folding table, slicing strawberries.
Into hearts.
I remembered Lucy talking about him.
Not by name.
Never by name.
Just “the strawberry man.”
I remembered Lucy talking about him.
The one who gave kids extra napkins.
The one who fixed Jayden’s backpack zipper.
The one who remembered Nancy liked chocolate milk but only on Fridays.
I had assumed he was a teacher.
Robert looked at Alice.
“Every Wednesday, I volunteer before work.”
I had assumed he was a teacher.
She stared at him like she had never met him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He glanced toward me, then at the red stain drying across Lucy’s towel.
“Because I knew what you’d say about the families there.”
Alice flinched.
Nobody spoke for a moment.
She stared at him like she had never met him.
***
A child shrieked happily from the water slide, and the sound made the silence around us feel even sharper.
Then Robert looked at the reservation tags still clipped to our chairs.
Room 214.
Our room.
He looked at the cocktail stain on my arm.
Then at Lucy.
Something in his face settled.
He looked at the cocktail stain on my arm.
Alice’s fingers tightened around the photo.
“What are you doing?”
Robert stood.
“The first thing I should have done.”
“Robert.”
He walked to the towel stand and returned with two clean towels. He did not ask a staff member to do it. He did not call attention to himself.
“The first thing I should have done.”
He simply came back and held them out.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
I nodded because I did not know what else to do.
He handed one towel to me, then crouched slightly so he could hand the other to Lucy.
She took it carefully.
“Thank you.”
He simply came back and held them out.
Robert looked at the tiny photos still spread between us.
“No,” he muttered. “Thank you.”
