Chapter 3: The Name on the Screen
I watched Nathan's hand stay flat on the phone.
He didn't pick it up.
He didn't silence it.
He just held it down against the table like he was afraid it might float away if he let go.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"Nobody important." He smiled, but his eyes didn't move with it.
"Come on.
Let's not ruin Sophie's moment."
Sophie was still straddling her bike, watching us both with the careful attention children use when they sense something is wrong but don't know what to name it yet.
"Mom." Her voice was small.
"Do you want to see me ride?"
I looked at her.
Her helmet was slightly crooked.
Nathan had only finished adjusting one strap before the phone buzzed.
"Of course I do," I said.
I walked to the edge of the track and watched Sophie push off from the ground.
She wobbled at the first cone, steadied herself, and kept going.
No training wheels.
No one holding the back of the seat.
Just her, moving forward on her own.
My eyes filled before I could stop them.
"She's been practicing that turn for two weeks," Nathan said quietly, stepping beside me.
"She fell four times on Tuesday.
Didn't want to quit."
I didn't answer him.
I was watching my daughter, but part of my mind was still on that phone.
Sophie completed the loop and coasted to a stop in front of us, breathing hard, grinning wide.
"Did you see?
Did you see the cone part?"
"I saw all of it," I said.
I pulled her into a hug and held on a few seconds longer than I normally would.
"I'm so proud of you."
Over her shoulder, I saw Nathan pick up his phone from the table.
He read the screen, typed something quickly, and slipped it into his pocket.
On the drive home, Sophie talked the whole way.
Nathan drove.
I sat in the passenger seat and watched the side mirror.
That evening, after Sophie was in bed, I found Nathan in the kitchen making tea.
"Who called today?" I asked.
"At the track."
He set the kettle down.
"My brother."
"You turned the phone face-down."
"I didn't want it to interrupt Sophie's ride."
"You checked it the second she finished."
He turned around.
His expression was patient in a way that felt practiced.
"Diane, what are you asking me?"
I had a name for it now.
That was what I was asking.
"I'm asking why you looked at that screen the way you did.
Like it was something you were waiting for."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then: "My brother's going through something.
I've been helping him with it.
It's not my story to share."
"Does it involve us?"
"No."
"Does it involve Sophie?"
"No." His voice was firm.
"It has nothing to do with either of you."
I nodded slowly.
I picked up my own mug.
I went to bed.
But I lay awake for a long time, and somewhere around midnight I realized what had been bothering me since the track.
May you like
Nathan had said his brother was calling.
Nathan was an only child.
