They slept in the next morning, and to Alex’s surprise, their dad made them breakfast. In the old days, their mom had done all the cooking.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said as he handed Alex and Molly plates with fried eggs and toast on them. Alex could smell bacon sizzling. The day was getting off to a good start.

Or so he thought. As he and Molly dug into their eggs, their dad said, “I have to go into the office for a couple of hours, so I thought—”

“I thought you said the office was closed today,” Molly said a split second before Alex said it.

“It is. But I have a backlog of paperwork that has to be done by Monday, and I’m keeping all day tomorrow clear because I’ve got tickets for us to go to Fenway, and then, since the Celtics are playing at twelve-thirty on Sunday, I thought we’d go to the game, and then I’ll take you right to the train station.”

That sounded good to Alex. Unless…

“Do you have three tickets for the games or four?” he asked.

“Four,” their dad said.

“Can’t we get any time just with you?” Alex said. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We’ll have plenty of time,” Dave Myers said. “We’d have more time if you two slugabeds hadn’t slept so late. We can talk this afternoon when I get back from the office and tomorrow before we go to the Red Sox game.”

He was now taking the bacon off the stove. He was clumsy and dropped a strip.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Okay,” Alex said. “But no more excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses,” he said defensively. Too defensively, Alex thought.

He looked at his watch. “I have to go. I should be home no later than three. Our reservation isn’t until six-thirty, so we’ll have time then.”

“What are we supposed to do while you’re gone?” Molly asked.

“Your mom said you both have homework that you brought with you,” he said. “It’s raining right now anyway, so why don’t you get that out of the way.”

“You sure you’ll be home by three?” Alex asked.

“If I get going right now,” their dad said.

“Fine,” Alex replied, resigned.

“If you guys want to put the dishes in the dishwasher when you’re done, that wouldn’t be a bad thing,” their dad said.

He walked over and gave them each a kiss on the forehead. He had always done that in the past—Alex was surprised to realize he’d missed it.

“Call if you need me,” he said on the way out.

Alex picked up a strip of bacon. Molly was staring at the door. She had eaten her eggs, but her bacon was untouched. Alex knew Molly loved bacon, so he knew something was up. Finally, she picked up a strip of bacon and pointed it at Alex.

“He’s lying,” she said.

“Lying? About what?”

“About going to the office. He’s going to see her.”

“What makes you say that?” Alex asked. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“What does Mom call it?” Molly said. “Women’s…”

“Intuition.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Women’s intuition. I can just tell.”

Impossible, Alex thought. He looked at his sister. She wasn’t hysterical or acting crazy. She was perfectly calm. And, worst of all, he thought she might be right.

They cleaned up the kitchen and got out their books. Their dad’s townhouse in the North End was nice enough, but it was new and strange and Alex couldn’t get comfortable. He stared at a description in French of yet another D’Artagnan duel and, after about thirty minutes, realized he hadn’t read a word.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s find out.”

“Find out what?” Molly said, looking up from her math book.

“Find out if Dad’s really at the office.”

Without waiting for Molly to respond, he walked to the phone in the kitchen and dialed their father’s direct number at the office. Molly followed him into the kitchen. After four rings, the phone went to voice mail. Alex hung up.

“No answer,” he said.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not there,” Molly said. “He could be in the bathroom or just not answering his phone because he’s working on stuff.”

“He’d see this number come up if he was at his desk,” Alex said.

“So wait a few minutes and try again.”

“Don’t think so,” Alex said.

He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He went to his computer, which was sitting on the table in the family room.

“What are you doing?” Molly asked.

“Looking up a phone number for Party Forever,” he said.

“Megan’s business? Why would you want that number?”

“Because, remember, she said she works out of her house.”

He found the number on Party Forever’s website. He picked up his cell phone and walked to the kitchen window. That was the best place in the house to get cell service. He glanced in the direction of the harbor, took a deep breath, and entered the number.

“Why are you using your cell?” Molly hissed, as if someone might hear her.

“She’ll recognize the house number and know that something’s— Hi, Megan, it’s Alex. I’m sorry to bother you. Is my dad there yet?”

There was a pause at the other end of the line. Alex held his breath for a moment. If he was wrong, there was going to be a huge fight when their dad got home, and they would owe him—and Megan—an apology.

“He…he just walked in, Alex. Hang on a minute.”

Alex wanted to cry. He also wanted to hang up. But there was no time.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” he heard their dad say. “Why didn’t you call on my cell?”

“Because Molly and I thought you might be lying,” Alex answered, his voice quaking with anger and hurt. “And we were right. Stay with Megan, Dad. We’ll figure out how to get to the train station.”

“Alex, hang on—”

Alex didn’t. He hung up.

In a twist, Molly was far calmer about what had happened than Alex. He wanted to get a cab to the train station, change their reservations, and go home right away. She persuaded him to pause long enough to call their mother first.

Alex was about to pick up the phone when it began to ring. The caller ID said it was their mom.

“Alex,” she said. “I know how upset you are, and you’re absolutely right. Your dad is on his way back there right now. Don’t leave. Wait for him.”

Their dad had obviously called her right away. “Did he tell you what he did?” Alex asked.

“Yes, and I don’t even know what to say to you about it, I’m so upset. Which is why I understand why you’re so upset. He said to me, ‘Alex and Molly need to understand that I still love them,’ and I told him he had a strange way of showing it and that he needed to prove it to both of you. I think—I hope—he got it. The fact that he said he’d come right home was, I thought, a good sign.”

Alex was torn. He was so angry with their father that he wanted him to come home to an empty house. Any explanation for what he’d done was going to sound pretty hollow.

“What can he possibly say to make us feel better about this, Mom?” he asked.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I honestly don’t know,” their mother finally said. “But at least give him the chance to try. When he’s finished, if you still want to come home, call me.”

Alex looked at Molly, who was standing a couple of feet away.

“Tell you what, I’ll leave it up to Molly,” he said. “She’s the one who knew right away he was lying. If she’s willing to stay and listen, I’ll stay and listen.”

“Fair enough,” their mom said. “I’m home, so call whenever you need me.”

Alex hung up and looked at Molly. “You heard?”

She nodded. “Mom’s right,” she said. “He’s still our dad. A bad one right now, but still our dad.”

They heard the car pull into the garage about twenty minutes later. Alex had thought about packing but decided to wait. Dave Myers walked into the family room carrying a large bag in his hands.

“I thought we should eat,” he said. “I stopped at Shanghai Village and got some Chinese.”

Shanghai Village had been a family hangout once upon a time, the place they went for dinner most Sunday nights. Alex was certainly hungry. He was always hungry. It crossed his mind that if their dad had been confident enough to stop for food, their mom must have called to tell him she had talked the kids into waiting for him.

“Fine,” Alex said, getting up to walk into the kitchen. Molly, without a word, did the same. They silently got out dishes and opened the containers of food, and each got a drink. Then they sat down at the kitchen table. Alex and Molly started eating. It was their dad’s move. He understood.

“Look, all I can say is I flat-out blew it—last night and today,” he said. “I got caught in between you guys and Megan, and I made two bad decisions.”

“No, Dad, you made three bad decisions,” Alex said, still feeling as if their dad wasn’t getting it. “First was bringing her to the station, second was deciding to go see her today, and third—and by far worst—was lying to us about it.”

Dave Myers picked up his chopsticks and put some kung pao chicken into his mouth. He took a swig of water.

“You’re right,” he said. “Three bad decisions. I need to do a better job of finding a balance—”

“What balance?” Molly interrupted, speaking for the first time since their dad had walked in the door. “There’s no balance. We haven’t seen you for months, and we’ve been here for all of five minutes and you’re already out the door to see her. You obviously still don’t get it. We’re your kids. Either we come first or we don’t come at all. Do you think for one second that Mom would ever tell you to find ‘balance’ between taking care of us and taking care of her? No. It’s your fiancée who’s using the word ‘balance.’ We’re not her kids, so she has no reason to care about us. You’re the one who is supposed to care about us.”

Alex stared at his sister for a second. She couldn’t possibly be two months shy of turning thirteen. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the smartest—and maybe the most mature—person in the room.

“Moll, those are pretty strong words,” their dad said. “You know how much I love you.”

“No, I don’t!” Molly said, tossing her chopsticks down. “Neither does Alex right now. All I know is that since we left Boston, you’ve hardly come to see us at all, you’ve gotten engaged to a woman while you’re still legally married to Mom, and now, when we come here to supposedly make up for what happened at Christmas, you lie to us so you can run off and see her!”

Dave Myers looked at Alex as if to say, Help me out. Alex was a long way from there.

“Dad, she’s right,” he finally said. “Let me ask you: Are you willing to call Megan”—unlike Molly, he managed to actually use her name—“and tell her you’re spending the rest of the weekend with just us because you have to start fixing your relationship with your kids?”

Now it was their dad’s turn to put down his chopsticks. “I’m going to have to think about that one, Alex. I mean, that’s a lot—”

Alex stood up. “Don’t bother, Dad,” he said. “Don’t think about it. It’s fine.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and walked to the front door. “I’m going outside to call Mom. Molly, go upstairs and pack.”

He didn’t wait for their father to respond. It was time to go home.