My Son Brought

“That Christmas,” he said. “Before that too.”

I waited.

My father’s hands flexed at his sides.

“I thought if we didn’t make a big issue of things, they would settle.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“No.”

He swallowed.

“I should have taken him fishing.”

The sentence was so small.

So late.

And still, it found the old wound.

“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”

His eyes continue reading …