Gilbert came into the room as Walter was chanting happily, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-"
But there were only three apples.
"Well, I'm glad you know what order the numbers go in," Anne said almost sarcastically. "But you can't just say the numbers, you have to actually count- here, touch each one when you count; that way you won't count the same apple twice."
She moved his hand to place it on one apple.
"One, two," Walter said again, touching each apple. "Three."
"Good," Anne said, finally happy with him. "Now we're going to add them." She put those three apples on one side, and then on the other side she put two new apples.
"Now how many apples are there?" she asked pleasantly.
"One, two, three," Walter said, putting his finger on each apple. Then he turned to the other apples and started again: "One, two."
"No...Walter, no. That's not how you add. You count them together," Anne was saying, frustration in her voice. "Now try it again."
Walter counted the apples the exact same way.
Anne sighed. She moved the two sets of apples closer together so that they were in one group instead of two. "Count them again," she said.
This time he counted them together, but he had already forgotten to count each apple only once and came up with eight.
"There aren't eight, there are only five," Anne said, her frustration clearly showing. "You just counted five, can't you see I haven't put out any new ones?"
"Anne," Gilbert said quietly. "Maybe you should stop and let him play."
Anne looked at him and was about to say something, but Gilbert, responding to what she had not even said yet, told her firmly, "Take a break."
Anne pushed the apples away, still aggravated, and pulled Walter down from the kitchen chair where he sat.
"Go on," she told him with a dismissive wave.
Gilbert caught Walter up in his arms and hugged him. "Let's go out and look at the ducks," he said kindly. He looked back at his wife. "Come with us, Anne."
Anne was still annoyed, but she got a piece of bread from the breadbox and followed them out.
Once at the pond, she broke the bread into small pieces and handed them to Walter, who began throwing them out into the water.
He laughed when the ducks gobbled them up. "Hi, ducky," he called out, waving his arms at them. "Quack, quack!"
Gilbert reached out and pulled Anne close. She breathed out, feeling her frustration melting as she relaxed into him.
"It's so irritating," Anne said, discouragement weighing heavily on her
Gilbert shook his head. "Then stop. He's not even five years old yet. There's no reason he needs to be doing school work now."
"But I don't want him to start school not knowing anything."
"He does know things," Gilbert defended his son.
"LIke what? That ducks go 'quack, quack'?" Anne again sounded uncharacteristically sarcastic.
Gilbert was sad to hear her tone. "Anne...please stop this.'
Anne was surprised. "What?"
Gilbert thought about how to respond. Slowly, he said, "I can't help but notice you're so much more patient with other children than you are with Walter. Like Clara, you have endless patience with her, and she has no interest in math at all! You seem to...to have a grudge against Walter, almost, whenever he doesn't understand something."
Anne was defensive. "I want him to be smart. Don't you?"
Gilbert took a breath. "I want him to find out what he's good at, and do that. Maybe that will be school, and maybe it won't be."
Anne crossed her arms. "But he won't get anywhere without being good at school work, and going to Queens, and going on to a university-"
Gilbert put his arms around her. "That's not true. There are a lot of people who live happy, fulfilling lives whether or not they went to college. Matthew stopped going to school. He's a farmer. And...I just read an article the other day about baseball players- Anne, they're paid for playing ball!"
Anne didn't say anything.
"You know, Walter has a lot better coordination than other young children. Haven't you noticed that? There have been a lot of physical things he can do that other small children struggle with. And he has a good strong arm for throwing a ball- and he never misses a catch! Maybe he'll be one of those baseball players and he'll become famous for it. ...Look at him right now- other children just throw the bread into the water and let the ducks come to it. But he's throwing it to each individual duck to make sure they all get a piece, and look at his aim, Anne- he throws it right into their mouths, practically." Gilbert squeezed her. "Just let him be himself, darling- he'll find out what he's good at."