was going to lose him,” Luke said. “I thought if it was true, I’d never be able to call him Dad again. Not without thinking about the other guy.”
He bit into his garlic bread.
“But you know what?” he said. “I don’t think about the other guy at all. Tom’s nice. His letters are nice. His daughters destroyed us at Mario Kart.”
He grinned.
“But when I think Dad,” he said, “I just see him.”
He pointed out the window.
“Building a birdhouse,” he said. “Humming.”
I followed his
