The Father Who Stayed

The parent-child activity notice from kindergarten was clutched tightly in Rory's hand when he handed it to me after school. The colorful card stock, printed with cartoon patterns, had the phrase "Parents are requested to attend together" in bold at the bottom. My fingertips traced those words, my throat tightening slightly. Rory tugged on my sleeve and whispered, "Mom, the teacher said both my father and my mother have to go." I crouched down and gently ran my hand through his soft hair, forcing myself to sound calm: "I understand. How about we go home first?" Rory nodded, but unlike usual, he didn't skip and jump toward the school gate. That night, Rory suddenly broke out in a high fever. The thermometer read 39.5°C; his little face was flushed bright red, and he curled up drowsily in my arms. I wiped his forehead and neck with warm water, my heart both anxious and aching. "Mom..." Rory murmured, his voice thick with tears. "I'm here." I held him tighter. "Are you feeling upset?" Rory shook his head. After a long pause, he choked up and said, "Mom, I don't want to go to kindergarten anymore." I was stunned for a moment, then gently asked, "Why? There are so many kids and fun toys at kindergarten." "They... they laughed at me." Rory's voice grew softer, tears sliding down the corners of his eyes. "They said I'm a wild child without a father..." My heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by a hand, the pain almost suffocating me. I knew single moms faced these struggles raising kids, but I never realized Rory had been silently carrying so much. "Don't listen to what they say," I wiped his tears, my voice trembling, "You have me—you're not a wild kid." Rory buried his head in my arms, crying even harder. "But I want Dad... I want Dad to come with me to the parent-child activity..." Right then, my phone rang. Carson Gresham's name flashed on the screen. I hesitated for a moment before pressing the answer button. "Jenny," Carson Gresham's deep voice came from the other end of the phone, "I want to talk to you again about remarriage." This was already the third time this month that he had brought up remarriage. It had been two years since the divorce. At first, he ignored everything. Then he visited occasionally. Now he mentioned remarriage frequently. I had firmly refused all along. The reason for our divorce was his ambiguous relationship with Susan Parker, his cold violence, and neglect. I still vividly remember the grievances and torment from those days. But Rory's warm little body in my arms, and his words, "I want Dad", pierced my heart like a needle. "Jenny? Are you listening?" Carson Gresham's voice came through again. I took a deep breath, my voice barely trembling: "Okay, I agree to remarriage." There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line. Carson's voice held clear surprise: "You... are you serious?" "Yes." I said softly, my eyes resting on Rory's peaceful sleeping face, "For Rory." "I knew you'd come around." Carson's tone eased a little. "Jenny, about Susan and me—I've been meaning to explain to you, back then between us..." "No need to explain." I cut him off, my tone cold. "I agree to remarriage just to give Rory a complete family. Other than that, I don't want to argue anymore." Carson Gresham's voice faltered, a hint of helplessness in it: "Alright, then you take care of Rory for now. I'll come pick you both up and take you home tomorrow." After hanging up, I looked at Rory's flushed cheeks, and my eyes welled up. Maybe this decision is rash. Maybe I'll get hurt again. But as long as Rory won't have to suffer any more, I'm willing to try.