I Got Home From the Oil Rig Two Weeks Early and Found My Eight-Year-Old Son Cooking Dinner for Strangers—The Messages He Never Sent Explained Everything.
Finn thought it over.
“Maybe someday.
But she has to knock first.”
I thought about that drawing for days afterward.
It was simple enough for a child to draw and wise enough that an adult could spend years learning it.
Love could open a door, but nobody had the right to walk through it without being invited.
PART 14
The first anniversary of my early homecoming crept closer without anybody bringing it up.