You are never truly separate from an ex; despite distance and years, you are still connected if you have a child. Even though Anthony willingly let us go, over the past few years he’s taken to calling us and adding more money to the child support, even though I’ve never asked. He’s even visited Tony twice, taking him out to dinner and letting him pick out some desirable new toy. I’m ambivalent about this contact; he’s not exactly a presence in the boy’s life, just an interruption. Tony doesn’t call him “Dad.” He doesn’t call Anthony anything anymore. Long ago, he stopped asking when Daddy was going to come. Now he takes Anthony’s phone calls and mumbles replies. I can’t tell if there’s some resentment Tony has toward his father, which would be understandable, or if it’s simply that the man is more of a stranger to him than, say, Andy is at the moment. Which makes me smile. “Would you like him to be?”

Tony pushes himself away from the door frame. “No. I’m just wondering when he’s going to leave.”

“Why would you wonder that?”

“Because they all do.”

*   *   *

I get a call from the school. Tony has been in a fight. I leave work to get my bruised son, mother bear furious at the other kid.

“Ms. Meade, Tony admits to starting it.” The teacher, Miss Fletcher, folds her arms across her chest and turns a teacherly scowl at me and my son. “Tony can be very provoking. It’s not the first time he’s done this.”

“Is this true?” I squat to face Tony. “That you started the fight?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Dunno.”

He is awfully young to be so sullen. “Tony, why did you fight with him?”

“’Cause I didn’t like the way he looked at me.”

The big-haired Dallas debutante teacher pipes in, as if she knows my son better than I do. “That’s not a reason, and you know that, young man. Actions have consequences.”

“I’ll handle my own son, if you don’t mind. I’m sure there was a reason he got mad. People get mad.”

“People get angry, but even a child knows better than to throw punches. We use our words. We discuss our issues.”

I take Tony by the hand and walk out of that classroom and out of that school.

*   *   *

We left Dallas and headed for Los Angeles. I had a friend we could stay with till I found a new job. Tony would start at a new school and get a fresh start, make some new friends, have another chance. Andy was gone anyway, the romance evaporating in direct contrast to my desire to move on to the next phase of the relationship. Apparently, Andy got cold feet at the thought of living with me and a ten-year-old.

*   *   *