So I looked at my big boy and asked, “Are you sure?”
He nodded without hesitation. “I don’t have to yell at him,” he said calmly. “I just have to look him in the eye.”
I asked no further questions.
That afternoon, I drove us to a house I hadn’t seen in almost twenty years. The driveway was still cracked, just as I remembered. The porch light still hummed softly, even in broad daylight.
Liam got out of the car with a small box in his hands. I stayed inside, my palms sweating on the steering wheel.
Hands holding the steering wheel | Source: Pexels
He knocked twice.
My dad opened the door a few seconds later. From the car, I could see he didn’t immediately recognize Liam—how could he? As far as I knew, he’d never laid eyes on his grandson.
