Chapter 19
The next few years were a blur of happy chaos.
Leo got his driver’s license.
We bought him a beat-up old Honda Civic.
David spent three weekends teaching him how to change the oil, check the tires, and drive a stick shift.
I spent those three weekends hiding in the house, trying not to have a heart attack every time I heard the engine start.
He got his first girlfriend.
A nice girl named Emma.
Smart.
Funny.
Played soccer.
They came over for dinner once a week.
I loved her.
David pretended to be the overprotective dad.
He cleaned his gun on the porch when she came over the first time.
(It wasn’t even loaded. But she didn’t know that.)
Leo rolled his eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck.
But I saw him smiling later when he thought no one was looking.
He knew his dad loved him.
We took one last big family trip before Leo left for college.
We went camping in Yellowstone.
Just the three of us.
Tents.
Campfires.
No cell service.
No emails.
No alarms.
We saw Old Faithful erupt.
We saw a mother bear and her cubs from a safe distance.
We hiked to the top of a mountain and watched the sun come up.
Leo was eighteen now.
A man.
Almost.
He was going to college in the fall.
Engineering.
He wanted to build things.
To make the world better.
Just like his dad.
Just like me.
We sat around the campfire on our last night.
The flames crackled.
The stars were so bright you could see the Milky Way.
Leo was quiet.
Staring into the fire.
“You guys ever get scared?” he said suddenly.
“Scared of what?” David said.
“Of the future,” Leo said. “Of leaving. Of messing up. Of not being good enough.”
I looked at him.
“All the time,” I said. “Every single day. When I was your age, I was terrified I’d fail. That I’d never amount to anything. That I’d let everyone down.”
“Really?” he said. “But you’re so… you. You’re never scared.”
I laughed.
“Oh, I’m scared,” I said. “I’m scared when you drive the car. I’m scared when you go to parties. I’m scared you’ll get your heart broken. I’m scared you’ll fail a test. I’m scared of a million things. But being scared doesn’t mean you don’t do it anyway. That’s what courage is. Being scared. And going anyway.”
David nodded.
“Your mom’s right,” he said. “I was terrified when I started my company. Terrified I’d fail. That I’d lose everything. That I’d let you two down. But I did it anyway. And it was the best thing I ever did. Because I proved to myself that I could. That I was stronger than I thought.”
He tossed another log on the fire.
“And you know what?” he said. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to fail tests. You’re going to have your heart broken. You’re going to make bad decisions. That’s part of being alive. That’s how you learn. That’s how you grow. And no matter what happens… no matter how bad it gets… we will always be here. Always. You can call us at three in the morning. You can fail. You can fall. And we will be there to pick you up. Every single time. No judgment. No lectures. Just love. Always.”
Leo was quiet.
He wiped his eye quickly, like he was just brushing away a mosquito.
“Thanks, Dad,” he said. “Thanks, Mom.”
He stood up.
He stretched.
“I’m gonna turn in,” he said. “Big day tomorrow. Driving home. And then… college.”
He walked over to his tent.
He stopped.
He turned back.
“I love you guys,” he said.
And then he ducked inside.
David and I sat by the fire for a long time after he was gone.
“Can you believe it?” David said. “Our baby is going to college.”
“I know,” I said. “It feels like yesterday I was holding him in my arms, promising I’d never let anyone hurt him. And now he’s all grown up. And he’s going to go out there and change the world.”
“He gets it from his mom,” David said.
He kissed me.
The fire popped.
A shooting star streaked across the sky.
I made a wish.
Not for anything big.
Not for money.
Or success.
Or fame.
Just for this.
For us.
To stay together.
To stay happy.
May you like
To stay whole.
Forever.
