He did not pause the recording to apologize again.
His son deserved attention to the work.
Not another interruption by an adult’s feelings.
Max leaned against him.
“That’s the bit.”
“The first line?”
A nod.
“It was hard.”
“You did it.”
“Yes.”
They watched to the end.
When the applause came through the speakers, Max remained quiet.
Then he said:
“You would have laughed at the funny bit.”
“I did.”
“There.”
Darian understood.
There was not the same as later.
He answered honestly.
“I would have liked being there.”
Max nodded.
He did not ask to replay it.
His father did not ask for a private performance.
They put the lantern on the shelf.
Then made lunch.
It was not the evening returned.
It was something they could still have.
There were questions about the photograph.
The one of Max with Helena and Julian.
He found a printed copy among papers returned from the school.
He stared at it.
Then asked whether it should be thrown away.
Darian looked at him.
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can decide later.”
The boy studied the image.
His costume looked good.
He was smiling.
The smile did not mean the whole story was happy.
It also wasn’t false.
He had just finished something difficult.
People were applauding.
He had liked that.
Children should not have to edit their own faces to make adult wrongdoing easier to explain.
Darian suggested an envelope.
Not hidden.
Not displayed.
Kept until Max knew what he wanted.
