Instead, Mason had given us the most honest response possible: he needed time to make sense of a stranger becoming his father.

An hour later he came downstairs and asked me to help organize the rocket pieces.

I understood that it wasn’t a declaration of love.

It was a first test.

Could he ask for help and receive it without being asked for anything in return?

We spent forty minutes sorting plastic parts by size.

He let me hold the instruction booklet while he did the building.

Whenever he corrected me, I thanked him.