Keeping her eyes to the floor, Caitlyn slides out of her chair, takes my hand, and we begin walking towards the door. We pass into the hall, followed by Principal Craig and Denise. Children begin entering from the doors leading to the playground. Their voices echo off the walls and their shoes squeak across the floor.

We arrive back at the main entrance. I turn back to Denise and Principal Craig.

“I’m really sorry about this.”

Principal Craig nods, somewhat sympathetically. “It’ll be fine. We know that this is a rough time. Thank you for coming in.” She looks down at Caitlyn. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Caitlyn?”

Caitlyn doesn’t respond.

“Caitlyn?” I ask.

“It’s okay,” Principal Craig says with a consoling smile. “Again, thank you for coming in.”

She turns and begins walking back towards her office. As she walks away, she says over her shoulder, “Ms. Hancourt, if you can come see me in my office, please?” and continues walking.

I face Denise.

“I didn’t say anything to Caitlyn. I swear to God.”

Her wounded expression doesn’t change. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything else you need, Mr. Price?”

“Sure … I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what to say. What else can I say?

“Thank you for coming in,” she replies.

She shakes her head and begins walking towards the office.

20

“Caitlyn, please tell me what happened.”

“I did,” she says, staring out the car window.

“No. You have to tell me what really happened. It’s okay that you stood up for yourself if he was picking on you, but you can’t blame your imaginary friend, okay? Caitlyn?”

That’s the extent of our conversation on the drive back to the Nightingale House.

*

As soon as I open the front door, she makes a beeline for the stairs and up to her room.

“Caitlyn, please come back here.”

She doesn’t stop. She goes into her room and slams the door.

I should go up there and demand that she opens the door and speaks to me. Instead, I sit at the dining-room table and stare out over the lake for an hour. The rejuvenation I felt this morning is gone. I’m back to being tired, frustrated, and now embarrassed over what happened with Denise. How am I going to fix that one? I can’t, right now. That’s a problem for later. I need to figure out how to talk to Caitlyn. I need to be comforting but firm, understanding but strict.

What I really need is some backup. I need Nicole.

We used to say that there should be a questionnaire or some kind of test to prove that you could raise a child before you had one, but joked that we’d fail it. I really wish I had taken that test, right now. I really wish Nicole was here.