Chapter 43 - The Science Fair Invitation
Nico received the invitation in March.
The state science fair.
His astronomy project had qualified.
He tried to pretend this was normal.
It was not.
He ran through the front door holding the letter over his head.
“I GOT IN.”
Arlo chased him.
“To what?”
“State.”
“State what?”
“Science fair.”
“Why are you yelling incomplete information?”
They nearly knocked over a lamp.
I cried.
Nico became embarrassed.
“Mom.”
“I’m allowed.”
“You cry about everything.”
“Incorrect.”
Dad arrived ten minutes later because Nico called him before I had finished reading the letter.
He cried too.
“See?” I told Nico.
“You’re both old.”
The project examined light pollution and backyard astronomy.
He had spent months collecting measurements around our town.
The state event would take place in Detroit.
Two days.
Hotel.
Hundreds of students.
Exactly the kind of event Evan would have loved.
That made me happy.
Then afraid.
Those emotions had become old roommates.
Nico noticed.
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The Dad face.”
I sat beside him.
“I wish he could see it.”
Nico nodded.
“Me too.”
No one told us Evan was watching.
No one said he would be proud from heaven.
I appreciated that.
We were allowed to miss a dead person without turning uncertainty into reassurance.
The Curiosity Grant offered to pay Nico’s travel expenses.
I refused immediately.
Patricia Hall stared at me.
“He qualifies under the program’s criteria.”
“He is my son.”
“You do not select recipients.”
“I know.”
“Applications are independently reviewed.”
“I know.”
“Then why should he be excluded?”
Because I could already see headlines.
Because Cliff had trained part of my brain to imagine accusations before opportunities.
Because fear can become its own unfair policy.
Vivian finally said, “Would Evan want his son disqualified because of his last name?”
I hated that question.
Mostly because I knew the answer.
Still, we compromised.
I paid our travel expenses.
The school covered Nico’s registration.
The grant did not touch it.
Maybe that was excessive.
Maybe I was allowed one irrational boundary.
At the state fair, the convention center buzzed with nervous teenagers.
Nico stood beside his display wearing a shirt Dad had ironed badly.
Arlo wore a homemade badge reading ASSISTANT TO THE SCIENTIST.
“You are not my assistant,” Nico said.
“I’m not helping you. I’m assisting.”
“That is the same word.”
Dad wore the captain’s hat.
I threatened to abandon him.
Then I saw a familiar face.
Tyler Greene.
The first Curiosity Grant student.
Now sixteen.
He had qualified with an environmental sensor project.
He hugged Nico.
“Mr. Pike’s kid.”
Nico smiled.
For once, the phrase did not make him shrink.
Tyler looked at me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then he said something that nearly ended me.
“My mom says I’m applying to engineering programs next year.”
I stared.
“Already?”
“I know.”
He laughed.
“You people made me educational.”
“No refunds.”
Hours later, judging ended.
Nico did not win first place.
He won third.
For approximately thirty seconds, he was disappointed.
Then he learned the first-place student had designed a low-cost method for testing lead in water.
Nico stared at her project.
“Okay, that’s actually incredible.”
I laughed.
Evan would have loved that too.
Curiosity before ego.
At dinner, Dad raised his glass.
“To third place.”
Nico groaned.
“To Arlo’s completely unnecessary badge.”
“Necessary.”
“And to being here.”
That last part made everyone quiet.
Then Nico lifted his soda.
“To Dad.”
My throat closed.
He continued.
“Not because he died.”
I looked at him.
“Because he taught science.”
We touched glasses.
No tragedy.
No fundraising story.
No performance.
Just a son remembering something ordinary about his father.
Later, walking through the hotel lobby, my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
Congratulations to Nico. Evan would be proud.
I stopped.
No name.
No explanation.
Then another message appeared.
We need to talk about Cliff.
I stared at the screen.
The past had impeccable timing.
I showed Audrey immediately.
She responded with four words.
May you like
Do not answer yet.
Some things never changed.
