you to ride a bike in the church parking lot,” he said. “I taught you to use a hammer when you were six. I taught you how to throw a curveball. I sat up with you every night for a week when you had pneumonia in third grade.”
He looked at his son.
“Some guy in a lab gave you your eyes,” he said. “I gave you everything else.”
Luke rose.
He circled the table. He wrapped his arms around his father. He had grown taller than Mike. He had
