“Dad?” His son is staring at him. Bobby looks up the cast to his son’s sleepy face. “Yeah, bud?” “It’s just a leg.” “I know.” “So why do you have tears in your eyes?” “Allergies?” “You’re not allergic to anything.” “Shut up.” “Real mature.” Bobby smiles but says nothing. After a bit, he moves his chair closer to the bed, takes his son’s hand in his. He raises it to his lips, gives the knuckles a kiss.
