Page 141 of No Line Change

Now who’s the old man?

Hey

I miss you

Even if it’s only been a day

I miss you too

I wish you were here

You’re not disappointed that you don’t get to play?

No

But you’d get to play with me and nover

I do that all the time

I did it on Monday and I’ll do it again next Tuesday

Honestly might be better next week

After you two learn something from those other all stars

:(

Sorry I have to go

My dad wants to go out for coffee

Message later?

fiiiine have fun with your dad

//Love you [DELETED]

Miss you :)

The waitress—a young woman with bright red hair and an equally bright smile—came by and topped off his father's coffee. He winked at her, and she joked at him like they were old friends. She was probably sixteen, but this was his father's favorite coffee shop, a ten-minute walk from the house. Henri had no doubt his father was still as regular as ever with his routine, making the journey twice a day except in only the worst storms.

“Merci, Danielle,” his father said as she left. “Let me know if those boys give you trouble.”

“Of course, Monsieur Baptiste. They won’t, though. They’re scared after the last time.”

Henri smiled into his own coffee mug. He missed this. The French. The familiarity that came with being home. His father being a gentleman who looked out for the neighborhood kids.

“I see your grin, ti-loup. You cannot hide behind your drink. What’s so funny?”

“You. Scaring the local tweens into being polite and respectful.”

His father chuckled. “I do my best. But they are good boys, just…young.” His eyes twinkled, as though he was referring to more than the rowdy boys at a corner booth.

Looking at his dad was like looking into a mirror, the reflection distorted but still recognizable. He saw in his father the same dark hair, the same jaw and nose, the same shape, though his father’s eyes were several shades lighter. Caramel to Henri’s dark chocolate.

He had it on good authority that Claude Baptiste had been very handsome in his youth, had seen the photos that looked uncannily like himself but with a completely different smile, a different bearing. His family always said Henri looked like his father but wore his mother’s expressions. He was serious like she had been, his smiles softer.

“Have you heard any trade rumors?” his father asked hesitantly.