from crying, and sawdust was caught in his hair. Later, I learned he’d cried when Frank said their secret was over.
But the jacket on his shoulders left me gripping the doorframe. It was Michael’s old brown work jacket, complete with the torn pocket. I hadn’t seen it since my husband died.
“Oh, God, Nathan… what have you done? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
He lowered his gaze.
“Grandpa’s selling the house. Cole and I have been helping him save Dad’s things.”
“What things?”
Nathan rubbed his eyes.
“There’s something Dad started making before I was born. I wanted to finish it.”
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He explained that he and Cole had spent their nights in Frank’s guest room and their days working in his workshop. Frank had known all along that both mothers believed the boys were elsewhere.
“I begged him not to tell you,” Nathan said.
“He’s the
