I put the Jeep back into drive and head straight for Cade’s little red house. The little red house with a freshly poured sidewalk out front. The little red house with a sweet dark-haired boy strumming his guitar on the front step. The little red house with a man who makes my heart race and my cheeks heat just by scowling at me the way he is now. And I have to wonder if it’s not a scowl at all. Because the expression is so full of love, so full of longing, that the muscles in my chest seize and I rush to park so that I can be out of this vehicle and breathing the same air as them. My boys.
