That evening, Lucas noticed the photograph on my kitchen table.
“That’s him, isn’t it?”
I could have avoided the question.
Instead, I sat beside him.
“Yes.”
“Did he know about me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why wasn’t he here?”
I took a breath.
“He was scared when he was young. He made choices based on that fear. Later, he had other opportunities to do better, and he didn’t take them.”
Lucas looked at the photograph.
“Did Mom want him to be here?”
“She wanted him to make his own choice.”
“Does he want to meet me?”
“Yes.”
Lucas was quiet for a while.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
That was the moment I realized something important.
I had spent ten years protecting Lucas from the uncertainty surrounding his past.
But protecting him didn’t mean deciding his future for him.
We arranged their first meeting at a local baseball field.
