Bittersweet Revenge

Chapter Seven

One month has gone by and I am simply growing impatient. How have I not gained one simple memory back yet? Every now and again I will see a faint memory of Emma, most of the time she's working, but that's it. I must truly love that woman if she is the only one that can spark a small, tiny, fragment of a memory.

I watch with an ear to ear grin as my children calmly exit the bus. Max is the first one to jump down while Henry is holding Drew's hand, helping her down the stairs.

"Mom!" Drew exclaims, her entire face lighting up like the Fourth of July night sky. I wave at my precious children and pull them each into a hug.

"How was school?" I ask as we all walk back to the house.

"Progress reports came home today," Henry enlightens me earning him a nice elbow to his ribs from Max.

"Hey! Hey, none of that!" I scold and watch as Max's head hangs low in shame. "Max, you cannot blame your brother, you know your mother and I will see those reports anyway."

"I know," he groans in response and scuffs his shoe against the driveway. I rest my hand on his shoulder for comfort. He glances up at me and I smile in return. Max offers me a weak smile before his head falls low again.

I escort my children inside and watch with pride as they remove their shoes and neatly place them on the mat. They each carry their backpacks into the kitchen and begin unpacking while I start on dinner.

"Drew do you have new sight words tonight?"

"Yup!" She grabs a piece of paper from her folder and dashes over to me waving the paper in the air.

"Okay sweetie," I happily accept her homework and place it on the counter next to me. "We will practice while dinner is cooking, okay?" She nods enthusiastically and turns back to the kitchen table to put her backpack away.

"I just have one math packet," Henry fills me in on his homework status as well.

"Great, let's see if we can finish that up before dinner alright?" He nods, his brown shaggy hair swaying all around his face. Henry bites his lip and begins working on his homework right away.

"Max?" I question, knowing all too well that he's avoiding me.

My son sighs and stomps his way over to me, head still hanging low. He extends his arm with a large white envelope pushing it into my face. I twist my lips as I snatch the report from his hand.

I open the envelope and read each word carefully. Max is swaying nervously side to side with hands behind his back. I flick my eyes to my anxious son and bend down in front of him. I hold the piece paper in front of his face and point to a sentence.

"Can you please read this to me?" I ask gently but his eyes instantly fill with tears.

"Max," his tiny voice shakes and I can hear how hard he is struggling to fight his tears. "...is far b-be-ha-ha..."

"Be-hind," I softly whisper over announcing each sound as my finger drags across the word.

"Behind in..." the next thing I know Max is ripping the paper from my hands and throwing the report somewhere behind him. My son storms off upstairs before I can say a word.

I stand bewildered on what just occurred before I can find my voice. "Henry? What was that?"

Henry continues with his homework not bothering to look up at me. "He doesn't know how to really read."

"Well that's alright, he's only in first grade," I defend feeling slightly agitated that my son feels this upset by the circumstance.

"Well he doesn't read well for a first grader." Henry points his pencil across the table at his little sister. "Drew reads better than him."