Second Chance Summer

by Morgan Matson

I just like that there’s a system in the woods, an order to things, if you know how to see it. I always find myself in the woods when I need to think something out.”

And as I sat there and listened, chiming in when necessary, it occurred to me that we had somehow never done this back home—just hung out, talking over details of our lives. If we’d been at home, my father would have been at work, and the three of us would have no doubt been doing various activities. And despite the circumstances that had brought us here, I couldn’t help being glad for just a moment that we were sharing this together, as a family, at last.

“What you said earlier,” he said. “About being friends. I think we should do it.” “Really?” I asked. Henry, his face serious, nodded. “But what about what you said—about all the stuff that’s happened in the last five years?” Henry shrugged and gave me a smile. “So we’ll catch up,” he said. He pulled his feet out of the water and turned to face me. “Should we start now?”

“I thought you’d never speak to me again.” “I tried,” he reminded me, and I smiled at that. “But seriously,” he said, looking right at me, his tone a little more measured, “you’re a hard habit to break.”

A thousand moments that I had just taken for granted—mostly because I had assumed that there would be a thousand more.

but I leaned close to him and kissed his much-too-thin cheek. “Daddy,” I whispered, feeling my own breath hitch in my throat. “I love you.” Just when I was sure that he was asleep, the one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I knew that,” he murmured. “Always knew that.”

Crying