Commuter Train

Cal missed Karen. He wished he knew where she’d gone, or why she’d left, or why she’d taken all his old football trophies. If she hadn’t cared about him, well, that was a surprise that stopped his heart like a fall into icewater. But not caring enough to stay in Will’s life was impossible to imagine.

He looked up as Will bumped into someone while playing Superman. He was so lively. Karen’s absence hadn’t hurt him yet. But Cal hadn’t been able to discuss it with Will so far. He didn’t know what to say. How do you tell your son that his mother might be gone? If she were dead, he’d be able to say she weren’t coming back, but he couldn’t even say that with confidence.

Cal retrieved Will, and went to apologize to the man Will had bumped into. Hetripped over a young woman’s foot on his way back, and he mumbled an apology to her, too. She reminded him a little of Karen.

Tonight, he would tell Will. He’d said that before, but this time he’d stop stalling and do it, and they’d go on together. That though made him feel better. Enough to go on.