Not the neighbor.
Not the fear.
Him.
His family.
Their truth.
One evening, nearly a year after the original incident, Jordan came home from school with a question.
"Dad?"
Marcus was cooking dinner.
"What?"
"Do you remember the police coming to the barbecue?"
Marcus stopped stirring.
"Yeah."
Jordan was older now.
He had grown several inches.
His voice had changed slightly.
"Why did that woman call them?"
Marcus turned off the stove.
"She thought something was wrong."
"But nothing was wrong."
"No."
"Then why did she think that?"
Marcus considered his answer carefully.
"Sometimes people see something they don't understand, and instead of learning more, they let fear tell them a story."
Jordan nodded.
"Did she hate us?"
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't think she understood what she was doing."
"Are those the same thing?"
"No."
Marcus pulled out a chair.
"Hatred and ignorance aren't exactly the same. But both can cause harm."
Jordan sat.
"Did you forgive her?"
Marcus smiled.
"That's a complicated question."
"Why?"
"Because forgiveness doesn't mean pretending nothing happened."
Jordan thought about that.
"So what does it mean?"
Marcus sat beside him.
"It can mean deciding you don't want someone else's mistake to control your life forever."
Jordan looked toward the kitchen window.
"Do you still talk to her?"
"Sometimes."
"Does she come to the barbecue?"
Marcus smiled.
"She brings dessert."
Jordan laughed.
"Then I forgive her."
Marcus laughed too.
"That's very generous of you."
Jordan stood.
"Can I have some dinner?"
"Yes."
"And watermelon?"
Marcus pointed at him.
"Ask your sister."
Jordan groaned.
"She always says no."
Marcus smiled.
"Now you understand justice."
Another summer came.
The Johnson backyard was full again.
Music played softly.
Children ran across the grass.
Someone was grilling.
Someone was arguing about football.
Someone had brought too much food.
Marcus stood beside the grill wearing his ridiculous red oven mitts.
Tasha sat beneath the oak tree.
Mia was now old enough to help with the younger children.