Barba loved days like this. He was done with court by 2 pm- giving him just enough time to gather any files he needed to work on, deposit them at home and be outside Noah's school to walk him home.

Barba stands on the sidewalk as the 6-year old in question walks slowly towards him. Noah looks up with a small sad smile when he sees Barba- not the usual exuberant excitement. Something's clearly wrong.

"Que paso? Todos bien?" Barba takes the boy's backpack and slings it over one shoulder.

Noah's response is curt, "No Spanish, I don't wanna speak Spanish anymore."

Barba's a bit hurt by the forceful request but doesn't let on. He's spoken Spanish with Noah since before Noah could speak. When Noah was 3 and 4, he thought it was he and Barba's secret language. He'd eventually found out that others spoke Spanish- but it was still their thing. Whenever it was just the two of them- they spoke only Spanish.

Barba considers the boy for a moment, "OK. You wanna tell me why? Everything OK?"

"I just don't wanna."

Barba nods as he takes Noah's hand and they start down the sidewalk. He assumes Noah's being picked on for speaking Spanish at school but he's figured out not to push Noah when it comes to things like this. Noah always eventually opened up about the problem but he was sure to close off if you kept prying. Barba could certainly identify with being bullied- he didn't need to make him feel worse.

"So I'm thinking, we stop by and get stuff for spaghetti and a salad for tonight. Sound good?"

Noah crinkles his nose, "No salad."

Barba chuckles, "Well, you know Mamí likes us to have salad."

Noah concedes, rolling his eyes, "OK."

After collecting all the ingredients he needs- Barba leads Noah through the checkout. The cashier- who knows Barba- gives him the total in Spanish. Barba pays and responds with "Gracias".

Noah erupts. He looks around- almost afraid- then begins pushing on Barba. Completely out of control, he begins screaming. "Stop! Stop! Don't speak in Spanish!"

Barba, unsure of what to do, all but drags Noah and their groceries out to the sidewalk. He puts down the grocery bags and stoops to get on Noah's level- taking him by the shoulders and speaking firmly. "Noah. I don't ever want to see you act like that again. Do you understand me?"

Tears are now streaming down Noah's face but he's calmer. He nods.

"It's OK if you don't want to speak Spanish. But it's also OK- if I want to speak Spanish. OK?"

Noah shakes his head, trying to catch his breath as he wipes away tears. "Please don't!" he cries.

Barba's tone softens with concern. "Noah, why don't you want me to speak Spanish."

"I just don't."

Barba sighs. He's not going to get an answer standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe Liv would have more luck when she got home. Barba pulls Noah in for a hug the pushes him back to look him in the eye. "Hey you, I love you."

Noah sniffles, "Love you too."

Barba gathers the groceries and they head back to the apartment.

Three hours later Noah is stationed at the kitchen counter doing math homework while Barba puts the finishing touches on the Bolognese sauce he's making. Liv had texted that she'd be home soon.

"Dad" Noah calls from the counter. This no Spanish thing was getting old fast. Barba could handle speaking English but Noah replacing Papí with Dad was grating on his nerves.

Barba turns to him- the picture of patience. "Yeah."

"I can't figure out number seven."

Barba looks down at the worksheet- it's a word problem, Noah hates word problems. "Did you read it?"

Noah huffs, "Can you just help me? I can't do it."

"Yes, you can, hijo." Noah gives him a look. "Sorry. You can do this you just have to break it down. Read it out loud to me."

Noah sighs but does as he's told. "Bill has 5 bananas-"

Noah's reading is cut off by the sound of keys in the door. Barba looks up expectant. "Mamí's home."

Liv enters and Barba comes around the counter to greet her but Noah quickly shimmies out of his seat to come between them.

He grabs hold of Barba's leg as if his life depends on it and shouts back at Olivia, "No! You can't take him! I won't let you!"

Barba and Olivia are both stunned. Olivia's not sure what's going on but she steps closer to try to calm him down, "Noah-"

Noah rounds on her- pushing her back, "I hate you!" Immediately, he stomps down the hall to his room- they hear the door slam behind him.

Olivia is in shock, "What was that?"

Barba can only shake his head, "I have no idea. He's been acting really strange ever since I picked him up."

"I'll go talk to him."

Barba puts a hand on Liv's arm, "I'll go. Keep an eye on the spaghetti."

Barba taps lightly on the door before entering to find Noah, curled up on his bed, crying. He walks in and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Noah, you want to tell me what's going on?"

Noah just gives a quick shake of his head. "Noah, you really hurt Mamí's feelings. I think you need to go apologize."

Noah sits up- all but throwing himself into Barba's embrace and sobbing, "Not if she's going to make you go away."

Barba is more perplexed than ever- he thought this was about school bullies. "Noah, why would Mamí make me go away?"

Noah chokes out his words through his tears, "Franny McDonald-" Barba should have known- Franny McDonald was a terror. "Franny McDonald said that the police are going to arrest everyone who speaks Spanish and send them away- to where they came from."

Noah holds tighter to Barba's side. Barba breathes out his anger at the situation- gently rubbing Noah's back. "Noah, Noah mirame."

Noah sniffles and leans back- meeting Barba's eyes. "Franny McDonald- as usual- has no idea what she's talking about. Mamí, Tio Fin, the other police- they can't just send someone away because they speak Spanish. I'm not going anywhere. OK?"

Noah nods- slowly calming down. "Promise?"

Barba nods, "Promise. Now- you need to go tell Mamí you're sorry."

Noah nods and hops down from the bed- taking Barba's hand. "Papí, podemos hablar español si quieres."

Barba gives Noah's hand a squeeze and smiles back at him. "Gracias, mijo."

Noah finds Olivia at the stove. He wraps his arms around her in a hug- burying his face in her side. "I'm sorry, Mamí"

Olivia looks to Barba- questioning. "Someone at school told Noah that the police were going to send away everyone who spoke Spanish." He raises his eyebrows then whispers, "He thought you were going to deport me."

Realization dawns on Olivia's face- she stoops down to embrace her son on his level. "Noah, we're a family- I can't send Papí away."

Olivia pulls Noah away to look him in the eye. "And here's the thing the people who believe we should send people away just because they speak Spanish are a little-"

She wanted to choose this word carefully, villianizing others wasn't her intention.

"-confused as to how America works. That's why people like you, and like Papí, are so special. Because those people think they don't like people who speak Spanish- but then they meet you- and you speak Spanish and you're nice and a good friend- and maybe it helps make them a little less confused."

Noah looks at her, questioning "But I've known Franny for FOREVER and she's still confused."

Olivia smirks at Noah's dramatic delivery- all too often he was Barba's mini-me. "Well, you just keep being as nice as you can be and eventually she'll get less confused." Noah nods. "K. Can I say hi to Papí now- if I promise not to arrest him?"

Noah laughs and throws his arms around her neck as she stands to greet Barba with Noah on her hip. Olivia leans in and kisses Barba. After a moment Noah pushes Barba back, 'ew Mamí, but no kissing."

Barba and Olivia laugh- happy to have gotten to the bottom of Noah's rare mood.