He had on an old dark canvas jacket with a worn corduroy collar, blue jeans and brown leather work boots with scuffed toes.

The back of his hair wasn’t combed, and his shoulders were hunched forward against the cold.

In his right hand he held a small brown paper bag by its twisted top.

“Hi, Dad,” he said.

I kept hold of the edge of the door and didn’t step aside right away.

“Where are Melissa and the kids?” I asked.

“They’re at her sister’s place in Elgin,” Brandon said, staring down at the concrete.

“The movers took the big furniture to a rented storage unit near the high school.”