Free When Tito Loved Clara by Jon Michaud

any chance did you throw out those flowers I had on the coffee table?”
    â€œNo. Guillermo knocked them over,” he said. “He was playing with that squeaky ball when he got home and bam! Down they went.”
    â€œOh,” she said, wincing. “What about the vase?”
    â€œBroken,” said Thomas, “but I think a little Super Glue will putHumpty Dumpty back together again.” He gave her that weird smile once more.
    â€œI wanted it for the table. Oh, well. So, how was Gilly this afternoon?” She felt a sudden bolt of guilt as she realized that she hadn't yet gone downstairs to greet him.
    â€œHe was a little out of control, actually,” said Thomas.
    â€œWhat? Really?”
    â€œYeah. I was trying to get him to help me clean up the basement and he ignored me. Have you noticed? He's obsessed with that robot that Max left here.”
    â€œI know,” she said. “He wants us to buy him one before he has to give that one back.” Max was a classmate of Guillermo's and Clara had arranged the play-date in the hopes of befriending Max's mother, Jessica, but she'd just had a baby and had taken the offer as an opportunity to drop Max off for an hour while she took the infant to a pediatrician's appointment. Max had spent the duration of the playdate asking Clara when his mother was coming back. No treat, television show, or video could distract him from her absence. “I can't thank you enough,” Jessica had said, when she came back to pick up her son, who in his delight at seeing his mother again had forgotten about his toy.
    â€œThey cost like fifty bucks, don't they?” Clara said to her husband.
    â€œThey're $59.99 at Toys ‘R’ Us,” said Thomas. “I priced one on the Web last week.”
    â€œSo what happened with Gilly? Did he finally calm down?”
    â€œNo. Like I said, I was trying to get him to help me clean up and he kept shooting me with those plastic missiles.
‘Kablam, kablam!’
Then he knocked over my beer and I kind of lost it.” He looked at her. “I spanked him.”
    â€œYou
what
?”
    â€œJust once. First the flowers and then the—”
    â€œYou
hit
him, Thomas?”
    â€œJust once. Not hard.”
    â€œI can't believe you hit him. Oh my God. Promise me you'll never do that again! No matter what he does.” Her eyes stung with tears.
    Thomas must have seen the tears brimming because he suddenly looked panicked and tried to reassure her. “C., you know me. I'm not that kind of guy. I just lost my temper.”
    â€œI'm going to see if he's OK.”
    â€œHe's fine. It's not like I punched him in the face or anything. I just spanked him once on the ass.” But Clara was already headed back to the house, rubbing her nose with her wrist to keep the tears inside. An old fear was squeezing her chest, something she thought she'd never have to face again. She went through the kitchen and down the stairs, her pace quickening. She called out to her son, “Guillermo! Guillermo!”
    The basement was their son's lair: Guillermoland, the People's Republic of Preschool, a domain of toys, arts and crafts supplies, stuffed animals, crumbs, and bacteria. Thomas liked to joke that he and Clara needed visas to enter. There was Guillermo, lying on the couch in a sultan's repose, his sandals on the wrong feet, watching Yogi Bear. Max's robot stood sentry on the floor.
    â€œMommy!” he called, sitting up.
    She hugged him. “Are you OK, sweetie?
    â€œYes, Mommy. I'm OK.”
    â€œDid Daddy hit you?”
    He looked at her. “Daddy doesn't like me,” he finally said.
    â€œThat's not true. Your Daddy loves you.”
    â€œNo,” he said. “Daddy doesn't like me.”
    â€œHe just got mad, Gilly, that's all.”
    Guillermo crossed his arms and looked past her at the television set.
    â€œI'm sure he's very sorry.”
    Guillermo did not respond. After