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He sat alone on the top of the stairs watching his father get ready. Malcolm had gone on trips before, but none ever felt like this. Tommy felt like every glance was the last time he’d see his dad. That he’d go away like his mom did. And then what would he have? He didn’t have aunts or uncles, his grandparents were all dead. He’d be alone.
His father had been distant for months. And Tommy tried everything to be good enough for his dad’s attention. He tried out for sports teams, and took school more seriously. But all the ribbons and all the A’s a fourth grader could earn wasn’t enough to stop Malcolm Merlyn long enough for even a nod of acknowledgement. Ever since the anniversary of his mom’s death it was like Malcolm shut down. He barely spoke to Tommy. He hired three more nannies, and started spending late nights at the office, taking off on business trips at the drop of a hat.
And that morning he announced he was leaving, with only a lone green duffle that was sitting on the ebony marble top table by the front door. Nothing was ever allowed to touch that table. His dad had yelled at him and Ollie for twenty minutes once for leaving a model plane on it. So he could tell things were different.
“When will you be home?” he asked, letting his voice carry down the staircase.
Malcolm didn’t even look up as he rifled through his things, putting his passport in the bag. “I’m not sure. But Anita’s in charge until I return.”
“Anita quit three months ago,” he replied. “Remember she found out her daughter was having a baby, so she moved back to New Haven.”
“Clara then,” his father huffed. “I don’t have time to go over this with you, my flight leaves in an hour, and I’d like to be time for it.”
“You aren’t taking the jet?”
That was strange, his father always took the jet.
“Tommy.” As he turned, Tommy couldn’t help but flinch, his father’s looks had grown colder over the last few months. “I have to go.”
He nodded, pulling his knees to his chest. He wanted to beg his dad to stay, to tell Malcolm he needed him, that he couldn’t do this alone. But he knew there were no words that could keep his father from walking out that door.
There was a knock on the door, and Tommy watched as his dad opened it, reluctantly letting Mrs. Queen through.
She took one look at the duffle and glared at him “Really Malcolm?” She was practically seething.
“What are you doing here Moira?”
“I called your office. Robert wanted to invite you and Tommy for dinner, but your secretary said you were taking some time off.”
“I’m going on a trip,” he replied curtly. “And it’s no one's business but my own.”
“Not even your son’s?” she pointed up the stairs to him, and Tommy tried to shrink back against the shadows of the afternoon light. But he saw her kind smile, before she turned back to his father. “Rebecca wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“She doesn’t want anything anymore, she lost that ability the day she died. So if you’ll excuse me.”
Moira grabbed his arm. “Malcolm you can’t just leave your son with the hired staff while you go off for god knows how long?”
“It’s what I pay them for,” he pulled away. “And don’t you have your own family to worry about? Shouldn’t you be home preparing for your next little bundle, instead of telling me how to raise my son?”
Moira sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. And Tommy couldn’t help but be in awe of her. No one had the kind of guts it took to stand up to his father, not since his mom died.
“If you won’t stay and take care of your son like you should, then don’t leave him in the care of strangers.”
He could see the tension setting in his father’s shoulders, and Tommy almost launched himself down the stairs between his dad and Mrs. Queen, but he knew his dad wouldn’t like that one bit.
“What do you suggest then? I can’t very well take the boy with me.”
Moira finally smiled again like she already had the solution. “Tommy, go pack a bag sweetheart. You’re going to stay at our house for a while. Won’t that be fun?”
He nodded as he stood. The idea of an extended sleepover with Ollie was the best news he had heard in days. But he didn’t dare move towards his room, he was too scared about how his dad would react.
“Be serious, Moira. You already have a nine year old, and a baby on the way. You don’t need anything around stressing you out. And another child underfoot will be stressful.”
“And as a mother and a friend, I’m supposed to be fine knowing he’s being looked after by a handful of people whose names you only remember when you have to sign a check? Tommy will come and stay with us. He deserves to be around people who care about him, even if that doesn’t seem to include you.”
She seemed firm on the matter, and even Tommy could see his father’s resolve faltering. He was starting to think Mrs. Queen was the only person who could talk to his dad like that and get away with it.
“Fine, take him in while I’m gone,” Malcolm hissed, pushing past Moira. “I’ll call when I’m back.”
Tommy kept his eyes open as wide as he could, willing the tears to stay in his eyes. If his father turned around to say goodbye he didn’t want Malcolm to see him crying. But the door opened and his dad was gone, without so much as a word to him.
He had left Tommy all but crumbling on the upstairs landing, and he didn’t seem to care one bit.
“Tommy?” Mrs. Queen was next to him. He hadn’t even seen her move.
“I’m okay,” he said swallowing the lump at the back of his throat. “I know he was late, he’ll be home in no time.”
It was a story he’d tell himself often over the next year. While his father stayed far from Starling. But for one moment he wanted to believe in it, more than anything else.
“Why don’t you and I go get some of your things packed up, and then we can head to the manor,” she rested her hand against his cheek. “Raisa is making lasagna tonight.”
He perked up at that. “I love lasagna.”
“Oh do you?” she laughed as she took his hand in hers walking with him down the hall. “Then we better hurry, we don’t want Robert and Oliver to eat it all before we get home.”
Home. It was the first time he had heard anywhere other than the mansion referred to as his home, and the first time since his mother’s death that he even wanted one. He smiled up at Moira, and followed to his room. His mom was gone, and his father wanted to be as well, but he didn’t feel alone. He felt wanted. And that was more than good enough.