Chapter 22 - The First MeetingMicah was six when they finally allowed a supervised meeting.
Not because Harold requested again.
Because Micah did.
“Can I see him?”
Renee looked surprised.
“Why?”
Micah shrugged.
“I want to know.”
“Know what?”
“If he looks scary.”
That answer hurt.
They arranged the meeting with a therapist present.
Neutral office.
No mansion.
No gifts.
Harold entered slowly.
Micah sat between Renee and Graham.
Harold stopped several feet away.
“Hi, Micah.”
Micah stared.
“You’re Harold.”
“Yes.”
“You threw me in trash.”
Silence.
Harold’s face changed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Everyone held their breath.
Harold answered:
“Because I was cruel and angry about things that were not your fault.”
Micah watched him.
“Was I loud?”
Harold’s eyes filled.
“You were a normal little kid.”
“Did you hate me?”
Harold swallowed.
“I hated what I thought you meant. That was wrong.”
Micah frowned.
“What did I mean?”
Graham almost intervened.
The therapist shook her head slightly.
Harold simplified.
“I thought family had to look one way.”
Micah looked at Graham.
Then Renee.
Then back.
“That’s dumb.”
Harold laughed once through tears.
“Yes.”
Micah did not hug him.
Did not forgive him dramatically.
He asked:
“Can we go now?”
Renee stood.
“Yes.”
Harold nodded.
“Goodbye, Micah.”
“Bye.”
Outside, Micah said:
“He looks old.”
Graham laughed so hard he had to turn away.
The meeting was not reconciliation.
It was information.
Micah had seen him.
Harold was human-sized.
May you like
Not a monster filling the foyer.
That mattered.
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