The conversation was awkward. Mike said they were “fine” and that Danny was growing fast. George suggested a meeting, and Mike gave a non-committal “we’ll see.”
George felt a mix of disappointment and relief. He’d made the first move. A week later, he was looking out the front window when he saw a familiar SUV pull up. Mike and Danny got out. George’s heart hammered against his ribs as he ran to the porch.
“Grandpa!” Danny screamed, sprinting toward him. George dropped to one knee, catching the boy in a bear hug. Tears blurred his vision. Mike stood by the car, looking unsure. George looked up at his son.
“Thanks for coming,” he said quietly.
Mike walked up and extended a hand.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, and for the first time, he sounded like he meant it.
George shook his son’s hand firmly. The bridge was being rebuilt. They went inside, where Martha already had a pot of coffee and a plate of cookies ready.
Her hospitality made the tension melt away. Danny was fascinated by Martha’s old grandfather clock, and George explained how the gears worked. Mike watched them, a look of quiet regret on his face.
During dinner, Danny asked the question everyone was avoiding.
“Grandpa, are you coming back to our house?”
The room went silent. George looked at Mike. Mike looked at his coffee, then cleared his throat.
“Danny, Grandpa is living here for now. We’re still figuring things out.”
The boy frowned but didn’t push it. After dinner, Mike and George stepped out onto the porch. Danny was already asleep on Martha’s sofa.
“I think about our old Saturday mornings a lot,” Mike started. “You always seemed so invincible to me.”
George gave a dry chuckle.
“And now?”
“Now I feel like I failed you. I’m sorry, Dad.”
George patted his shoulder.
“You’re my son, Mike. That doesn’t change, no matter what.”
George didn’t sleep much that night. He felt the wall between them cracking. Mike started visiting more often, sometimes bringing Danny. The visits were warm, but Sarah was never there, and George didn’t ask.
One day, Mike arrived looking particularly haggard.
“What’s going on, Mike?” George asked.
“Work is a mess, and things with Sarah… they’re not good. Everything is changing,” Mike admitted.
George didn’t pry. Danny, sensing the mood, pulled on George’s hand.
“Grandpa, can we go to the park and fly the kite?”
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