Noah smiled with real happiness, but something tender crossed his expression too.
A future arriving.
Not everyone’s future.
Still proof that life continued making room.
Erin looked at him.
“You’ll be Uncle Noah again.”
He blinked.
“Again?”
“Morgan has called you that since she was little.”
He looked toward Caleb.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I assumed it was in the photos.”
Noah’s eye shone.
“Uncle Noah.”
Erin squeezed his hand.
“She used to follow you around the yard carrying a plastic toolbox.”
A memory did not arrive.
The belonging did.
Noah smiled.
“I’d like to remember that.”
“We have videos,” Caleb said.
“Not today.”
“Whenever.”
Noah nodded.
The game continued.
The side room grew louder as more people arrived.
At ninety minutes, Noah’s speech slowed.
At one hundred minutes, he rubbed his temple.
I placed my hand on his thigh.
“Seven-minute question.”
