“Just tell me what’s bothering you,” Clive said, his voice calm but serious. He wasn’t used to seeing Timmy this wound up. Clive crouched down to meet his son’s eyes, though he kept his phone in hand.
Timmy wasn’t even sure why he was so anxious. Something about the whole situation just felt wrong.
When something feels off, you’re supposed to tell an adult. That’s what the teachers always said.
He took a deep breath. “Dad, the dessert Aunt Kristen brought today… it was actually Donna who sent it to Mom at work. Mom was supposed to bring it home for us to share…”
He didn’t even realize how naturally the word “Mom” slipped out.
Clive’s reaction was surprisingly chill. He raised his eyebrow, and though he didn’t say anything right away, his look basically said, That’s it?
“I get it,” Clive said. “So you were in such a rush just to tell me that?”
Timmy stared, thrown off. “Dad…”
Clive’s voice stayed cool. “Aunt Kristen just explained everything to me on the phone.”
That’s when Timmy noticed—the call was still connected. Kristen was on the other end, listening.
“Timmy, I’m sorry,” Kristen’s voice floated through, gentle as always, but with a hint of apology. “I should have explained better. I grabbed the dessert from the fridge. I saw the box and assumed it was from Clive, so I brought it in…”
Timmy clenched his fists and suddenly spoke up, loud and insistent. “It wasn’t from the house—it was from my house!”
Aunt Kristen always said things that made people confused…
“Timmy!” Clive’s voice was stern. “That’s no way to talk.”
Kristen jumped in before things could get worse. “It’s alright, Clive. Timmy’s always been careful about details. I just didn’t say it clearly enough.”
Timmy pressed his lips together, sulking. He didn’t even know why he felt so mad all of a sudden.

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