“I knew you were gonna come,” Benji said.

“I’ll always come,” I said.

Clay came down the garden path carrying a small wooden hand rake from the garage workbench.

“The dirt along the south fence needs loosening up a bit,” Clay said.

“Show him how to work around the edges without disturbing the deep roots,” I told Clay.

Clay knelt in the mud beside his son and guided Benji’s little hand along the line of the soil.

I left the two of them working together in the morning sun and went back inside to the cool quiet of the hallway.