Our Little Matchmaker

CHAPTER 12: ONE EMPTY CHAIR

She was exactly where she belonged.

Isabella rolled up the sleeves of her cream blouse as Ethan proudly pushed a box of crayons toward her.

"You get the blue one."

"I don't get to choose my own?"

He shook his head.

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you're my helper."

She placed a hand over her heart.

"I've been promoted."

"You were always my helper."

Mrs. Palmer clapped her hands at the front of the classroom.

"Alright, everyone!"

The cheerful chatter slowly settled.

"Today's Family Creativity Afternoon is about working together. There isn't a right or wrong way to make your projects."

A little girl immediately raised her hand.

"What if I use glitter?"

Mrs. Palmer laughed.

"Then your parents will probably be finding glitter at home for the next six months."

The classroom erupted in giggles.

Ethan leaned toward Isabella and whispered,

"We shouldn't use glitter."

"Why?"

"It never leaves."

She nodded solemnly.

"A wise decision."

Each table had been given the same assignment:

Create a picture frame that represents your family.

Some children immediately reached for paint.

Others began arguing with their siblings over stickers.

One little boy had somehow managed to get glue on his eyebrow before the activity had officially begun.

Mrs. Palmer sighed with the practiced patience of a woman who had taught six-year-olds for nearly twenty years.

Ethan unfolded the drawing he had hidden since yesterday.

It was the same one Isabella had seen before.

Only this time she could study it properly.

There was a bright yellow sun in one corner.

A small house.

Flowers that looked suspiciously like colorful lollipops.

And two smiling people holding hands.

One was clearly much taller.

The other had curly hair that looked remarkably like Ethan's own.

At the bottom, in uneven handwriting, were the words:

ME AND MY MUMMY

Isabella smiled.

"It's beautiful."

"I know."

She laughed.

"Very confident."

Mrs. Palmer walked over.

"Ethan worked very hard on that."

"He told everyone it wasn't finished."

"It wasn't."

Ethan nodded firmly.

"It still needs stars."

Mrs. Palmer smiled.

"I'll let the artist decide."

As she moved on to another table, Isabella picked up a blue marker.

"So..."

"Where should the stars go?"

Ethan climbed onto his knees to see better.

"Everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

"The sky has lots."

"I can't argue with that."

Together they worked quietly.

She drew tiny stars.

He carefully stuck foam clouds onto the frame.

For several peaceful minutes, nothing else mattered.

Then Ethan stopped.

His smile faded ever so slightly.

He looked around the classroom.

Isabella noticed immediately.

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, he pointed toward another table.

A boy named Liam was painting beside both his mother and father.

The three of them laughed as the father accidentally got green paint on his own nose.

Liam burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"So did everyone else."

Even the father laughed at himself.

Ethan watched for a second longer.

Then looked back at his own frame.

Very softly, he asked,

"Mummy..."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask something?"

"Always."

He lowered his voice as though asking a secret.

"Do all families look the same?"

The question caught her completely off guard.

She put the marker down.

"No."

"They don't?"

She shook her head.

"Families come in all kinds of ways."

He looked around again.

"But Ben lives with his grandma."

"Yes."

"And Mia has two big brothers."

"She does."

"And Liam has a mummy and daddy."

"He does."

Ethan looked back at his picture.

"So ours is okay too?"

There it was.

The question beneath the question.

Not sadness.

Not jealousy.

Just a little boy trying to understand the world.

Isabella reached over and gently brushed a smudge of blue paint from his cheek.

"Our family is more than okay."

He searched her face.

"Really?"

"Really."

He thought about that for a long moment.

Then nodded.

"Okay."

The answer seemed enough.

At least for now.

Mrs. Palmer approached again, carrying a small stack of gold star stickers.

"I have a challenge."

Ethan's eyes lit up.

"I like challenges."

"I know you do."

She placed the stickers on every table.

"Each family should write one thing they're grateful for inside the frame before we display them."

Children immediately began shouting answers.

"My puppy!"

"Pizza!"

"My bicycle!"

"My baby sister!"

Mrs. Palmer laughed.

"One at a time!"

Ethan looked up at Isabella.

"What should we write?"

She handed him the marker.

"I think you should choose."

He frowned in concentration.

His tongue peeked out slightly, the way it always did when he was writing carefully.

Very slowly, letter by letter, he wrote:

My Mummy.

The words weren't perfectly straight.

One letter was backwards.

Another floated a little higher than the rest.

To Isabella...

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever read.

She blinked quickly before Ethan could notice the sudden shine in her eyes.

Mrs. Palmer returned to collect the finished frames.

"They're wonderful."

She smiled at Ethan.

"Would you like to help me hang them?"

"I would!"

He proudly carried the frame across the classroom.

Parents wandered around afterward, admiring everyone's work.

The colorful frames soon filled an entire display wall.

Each one was different.

Each one reflected a child's world.

Isabella stood quietly, looking at them all.

Then something caught her attention.

At the very end of the display was one frame.

It hadn't been decorated.

No paint.

No stickers.

No photograph.

Only a small name card beneath it.

Reserved.

She frowned slightly.

Mrs. Palmer noticed.

"Oh..."

She gave a small, apologetic smile.

"One of our students couldn't come today."

"The family?"

Mrs. Palmer nodded.

"His father travels constantly."

"And his mother is in another city caring for her own mother."

"So we decided to leave his space on the wall."

Isabella looked at the empty frame for a long moment.

An empty place among dozens of colorful families.

She didn't know why, but something about it stayed with her.

Across the room, Ethan's laughter rang out as he proudly explained to another child why glitter was "too dangerous."

The classroom laughed with him.

Isabella smiled.

Then her eyes drifted back to the single empty frame.

For reasons she couldn't explain...

She hoped it wouldn't stay empty forever.