Chapter 12
Theo started hiding his travel bag.
That was how trauma showed itself.
Not nightmares at first.
The bag.
Tessa—the nanny helping at my home now—would place it in the closet.
Theo dragged it under his bed.
She moved it.
He hid it behind curtains.
Finally I asked:
“Why?”
He hugged the little bag.
“Briana packed.”
My chest tightened.
“Do you want a different one?”
He shook his head.
Interesting.
“What do you want?”
“Mine.”
Of course.
The bag itself had not betrayed him.
Adults had assigned it a meaning.
So we did not throw it away.
We changed the meaning.
I asked if he wanted to pack for one night at my sister’s farm.
He said no.
Fine.
Weeks later, he packed two toy cars and pajamas himself.
“Where going?”
“Nowhere.”
Good.
Just packing.
Later, he carried the bag into the garden.
Then to lunch.
Then back.
Choice.
One afternoon Lucas visited under Theo’s conditions.
Garden only.
Daniel nearby.
No Briana.
Lucas brought no gift.
Correct.
Theo showed him the travel bag.
Lucas went pale.
“Remember?”
Theo asked.
“Yes.”
“You packed wrong.”
Lucas swallowed.
“Yes.”
Theo opened it.
Toy cars.
A picture book.
Crackers.
“Now mine.”
Lucas covered his mouth.
I looked away.
Some moments belong to two people even when one is three.
Then Theo asked:
“You go boat again?”
Lucas shook his head.
“Not without you asking.”
Better.
Theo considered.
Then handed him one toy car.
Not forgiveness.
Not restoration.
May you like
A car.
Enough.
