Chapter 26 - THE BALL
Leo kept the cheap plastic ball.
I hated that thing.
Not rationally.
It was blue and yellow.
Seven dollars.
The ball he had pushed while crawling beneath Victoria’s table.
I tried once:
“Want a new ball?”
“No.”
“Better one?”
“No.”
“Throw this away?”
“No.”
So I stopped.
It was his object.
Not my trauma prop.
One afternoon he brought it to park.
Dominic was there for an unsupervised two-hour community visit—the first approved after a year of supervised progress and evaluation.
I remained nearby but not hovering.
Leo kicked ball.
Dominic kicked back.
No coaching.
No:
Use your right foot.
No:
Try harder.
Then Leo missed.
Ball rolled downhill.
He groaned.
“I’m bad.”
Dominic froze.
I watched from bench.
He said:
“No.”
Then corrected.
“Actually, you missed.”
Leo looked.
Dominic continued:
“Missing isn’t bad.”
Good.
Leo kicked again.
Then:
“Done.”
Dominic nodded.
“Okay.”
No practice.
No earn.
No cake.
They sat on grass.
Leo opened snack bag.
Handed Dominic cracker.
That image nearly broke me:
My son on the ground by choice.
Eating by choice.
Not beneath anyone.
Then Dominic looked toward me.
No smile.
No plea.
Just acknowledgment.
After visit he said:
“I know this doesn’t fix anything.”
“No.”
“I’m grateful you allowed the step-up.”
“The evaluator recommended it. Leo wanted it.”
“I know.”
Good answer.
Then:
“Do you ever think about taking me back?”
“No.”
Immediate.
He looked hurt.
I continued:
“I believe you can become a better father.”
He waited.
“That does not mean I need you as a husband.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
Maybe he finally did.
We were not friends.
May you like
We were learning to become safe co-parents with many rails around us.
That was enough.
