Leaving New York

Chapter 38

"I hate oatmeal." Khalil sat at the table staring at a big bowl of the stuff while Chloe glared at him. "Sugary cereal is unhealthy."

"You threw out my Chocapic?"

"Yes."

"This tastes like shredded paper."

I heard them arguing as I brought in the paper. Ari bounded down the steps, and both of us entered the kitchen.

Khalil said, "I just won't eat breakfast."

Ari said, "What's all this?"

"Chloe threw away my cereal—she wants me to eat cardboard."

Ari looked as Chloe pursed her lips then stared at his now chubby son. "You will eat what is served, Khalil. We had nothing a year ago; now, we live in this beautiful house. I never want to hear you talk back to Chloe. Ever. You hear me?"

Khalil whimpered. "You have gotten fat eating so much sugar."

Chloe thought that was too much. "Ari, it's . . ."

"No, I want him to know he's gotten spoiled. You finish the oatmeal, then go outside and exercise."

Chloe looked at me. Tears rolled down Kahlil's face as Ari realized he'd been rude to his little boy. "Oh, come here." Khalil ran to him, and they hugged. "I hate being fat, papa."

"I know, I know—I'm sorry." A horn honked--Ari's ride to work. "I have to go—I'll see you all later." He pinched Khalil's cheek and said, "I'll read some more "Ali Baba" to you when I get home."

"Okay!"

Chloe made herself busy washing dishes. I got a coffee and read the paper while Khalil forced himself to eat the oatmeal. Ari was a good father—I wasn't about to intervene. I did wonder what Khalil was supposed to do outside on his own to get "exercise." I said,

"Hey Khalil, let's go see the ducks."

"Okay!"

Chloe turned around, "Sounds great. I'd go too, but Deidre is picking me up, then we're headed to look at a space she might move the gallery."

"Oh, wow."

"It's in Belleville." Belleville is where Phillipe lived.

"Can we go see the ducks now, Uncle Jack?"

"Sure."

I said to Chloe, "Well, have a good time. Where's Gar?"

"At work, then he's driving out to see Lion."

"How's he doing?"

"Okay, I guess. Two months of rehab." Khalil appeared with his coat and the cute knit cap Chloe made him for Christmas.

"Uncle Jack, let's go."

"Okay." We went to the front hall; I pulled on my jacket then we marched to the ducks of Parc Monceau. Khalil learned to approach the Mallards, constantly talking to them. He'd been trying to get his father to get a cat or a dog, but he wasn't having it. As I sat on a bench, Ernie ran to me in black tights.

"Hey."

"Hey, Ernie." He plopped down spread eagle, his usual pose.

"Isn't he the little guy from the other night?"

"Yes. Khalil—he's my housemate's son."