“Let’s change the subject.”
On the drive home, Mike whispered from the back seat.
“I liked watering flowers with Mommy.”
Michael quietly turned up the radio.
Something about that tiny moment settled uncomfortably inside me.
A few days later, Roger carried home a permission slip for an overnight science camp.
“I really want to go.”
“I liked watering flowers with Mommy.”
Michael barely looked at the paper.
“I don’t think you’re ready, bud.”
Roger frowned.
“You didn’t even read it, Dad.”
“I know you.”
Roger didn’t argue. Then he silently walked upstairs.
