Tom cursed under his breath the next morning when he saw the incoming call from his ex-wife.
“Where are you, Tom?” Laura’s voice was cold. “Becca’s going to be late for school. You were the one who insisted that weekend custody starts Friday morning, remember?”
“There’s not any chance you could…”
“I have a career, too, Tom. I’m already at work. But I can ask Brian if you…”
“No, no. I’m on my way. Bye.” Tom turned his car around and raced toward the house he used to live in. He called Theo.
“Theo,” Tom said, “I’m going to be about half an hour late this morning. My daughter missed the school bus, so I need to drop her off.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. Becca could’ve taken the bus, and it sounded better than “I forgot it was my day to pick up my only child.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Theo replied. “Drive safe, and we’ll see you when you get here.”
Becca was radiating annoyance when he pulled up.
“You know the bus gets kids to school, too, right?” Tom said.
“The bus smells bad, and you have to leave like forty minutes early,” she responded.
“I’m going to be late to an important meeting,” Tom fumed.
“Just leave me home then,” Becca snapped.
“I’m not going to do that. Put on your seat belt. I just want you to know that your choices affect other people too.”
Becca rolled her eyes.
“Man, I hate when you do that,” Tom said. He turned onto a main road and started to accelerate.
They drove for a few minutes in silence. Becca pulled out her cell phone, and Tom heard Theo’s voice in his mind: “Are you seeing any of the people around you as objects?”
He sighed. “Look. I’m sorry for getting mad. There’s this work training, and the CEO is probably going to be there, so I guess I’m on edge today.”
Becca didn’t look away from her phone.
“Would you put the phone away, please?”
She shoved the phone into the top of her backpack and looked out the window. It was a new backpack and an expensive phone. He wanted her to have nice things.
“Anything going on at school today?” Tom forced his tone to stay light.
Becca shrugged. “Nope.”
“What about afterward? Play practice?”
“It’s called rehearsal. And I don’t know if I still wanna go.”
“What? I thought you liked it.”
Becca shrugged again.
Like pulling teeth, Tom thought. He took a breath and tried one more time.
“Do you already have plans tonight? We could go see a movie or something?”
“Stop being weird, Dad. Ever since the divorce, I’ve been, like, your project or something. I’m fine, okay?”
Tom didn’t say anything. When they pulled up to the school, Becca sprang out of the car, slammed the door, and didn’t look back. Maybe the whole “see people as people” thing only works on fully developed adults, Tom thought.