PART 7:

What if the community center had rooftop gardens? Not just decorative, but functional. Something the neighborhood could actually use. He smiled despite himself. Early morning thoughts. My daughter is making me visit moon rocks at 7:00 a.m. That’s very on brand for her. Moon rocks are important. Apparently critical. Enjoy it. Text me later.

Yeah. I will. He set the phone down, that uncomfortable tightness easing slightly. Then he dragged himself to the shower before Sophie could start the countdown again. The science museum was predictably packed with families taking advantage of the good weather. Sophie grabbed his hand the moment they walked in, pulling him toward the space exhibit with single-minded focus.

Slow down, bug. The moon rocks aren’t going anywhere. But other people might see them first. I don’t think they work on a first-come basis. Sophie ignored this logic entirely, weaving through the crowd with Daniel trailing behind. They rounded a corners into the space exhibit, and she stopped so abruptly he nearly ran into her.

Whoa. She breathed. The exhibit was impressive. A recreation of the lunar surface dominated the center of the room, complete with American flag and footprints preserved under glass. Interactive displays lined the walls. And there, in a specially lit case, sat three small rocks that had traveled nearly 240,000 miles to end up in a museum in their city.

Sophie approached the case like it was sacred, pressing her nose almost against the glass. They’re so small. She whispered. The most important things usually are. Daniel said. Then immediately felt ridiculous for trying to turn moon rocks into a life lesson. But Sophie nodded seriously. Emma said they’re billions of years old.

Four and a half billion according to that sign. That’s older than grandma. Significantly older than grandma. Older than dinosaurs? About the same age as the earth actually. They formed around the same time. Sophie processed this, frowning. So, the moon is earth’s twin? More like earth’s kid. Most scientists think the moon formed when something huge crashed into earth a long time ago.

A piece broke off and eventually became the moon. That’s so cool. Sophie moved to the next display, which showed the phases of the moon. Daniel followed, content to let her explore at her own pace. They spent 2 hours in the exhibit. Sophie asked approximately 8,000 questions, half of which Daniel could answer, and half of which required him to read the informational plaques very carefully.

By the time they left, his feet hurt and his brain felt stuffed with lunar facts, but Sophie was practically glowing. Can we come back next week? She asked as they walked to the car. Maybe. We’ll see. That’s parent speak for probably not. That’s parent speak for we’ll see how the week goes. Sophie climbed into her booster seat, still chattering about impact craters and mare basins.

Daniel started the car, only half listening, when his phone rang. Miranda’s name flashed on the screen. His good mood evaporated instantly. He sent it to voicemail, but it rang again immediately. Sophie’s chatter stopped. Is that mom? Yeah, bug. Probably just checking in. The lie felt sour in his mouth.

Miranda never just checked in. Every call had an agenda. He answered on the third ring, keeping his voice neutral. Hey. We need to talk. Miranda’s voice was tight, clipped, the tone she used when she was about to make his life difficult. About? Not over the phone. I’m at the house. How soon can you get here? Daniel’s jaw clenched.

I’m with Sophie. We’re we’re on our way back from the museum. Perfect. Bring her. She can play in the yard while we talk. Miranda. 20 minutes, Daniel. Don’t make me wait. She hung up. Daniel sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to push down the familiar spike of anxiety that Miranda’s demands always triggered.

Dad? Sophie’s voice was small. Is everything okay? He met her eyes in the rearview mirror. Everything’s fine. Your mom wants to see you for a bit. But it’s not her weekend. I know. She just wants to say hi. Sophie didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. Daniel pulled out of the parking lot, driving toward the house that used to be his and now felt like enemy territory.

Miranda’s place was in the part of town where the houses had names instead of just addresses. Manicured lawns, three-car garages, the kind of neighborhood where homeowners associations sent strongly worded letters about mailbox paint colors. She was waiting on the front porch when they pulled up, arms crossed, wearing the expression Daniel had learned to dread during their marriage.

The one that said she’d already decided he was wrong and was just waiting for him to confirm it. Go play in the backyard, sweetie. Miranda said to Sophie, her voice softening. Daddy and I need to have a grown-up talk. Sophie looked between them, uncertain. Daniel gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It’s okay, bug.

I’ll come get you in a few minutes. Sophie trudged toward the backyard gate, glancing back twice. The moment she disappeared around the corner, Miranda’s expression hardened again. Inside. Daniel followed her into the house, trying not to notice all the changes since he’d left. New furniture, new art, new everything, like she’d been erasing him systematically.

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