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“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He’s splayed out on his bed, a soccer ball in his hands. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling when I sit on the end of the mattress. “I ordered dinner.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Got you the double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Do you want to talk now?”

He shrugs.

“I hope you know you can tell me anything. I hope I’ve never made you feel like I would get mad or shun you or anything like that.”

This gets his attention, and he sits up, shaking his head. “No.”

I pat his knee and take a deep breath. “I was worried that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about this.”

He pitches his gaze toward the wall. “I don’t really know what to say. It’s…confusing.”

“Okay. That’s…probably hard for you, but it’s okay to be confused or not have the answers right away. Or, ever, really.”

He runs the side of his fist over his mouth and then plows his hand through his hair. It takes him a while to look at me again, and when he does, I see the baby who made me a mom. The tiny screaming thing who lay on my chest in a blue cap. The toddler who refused to be potty-trained until I told him he couldn’t go into the swimming pool unless he stopped wearing diapers. I see him on his first day of school with his Iron Man backpack. I see the middle schooler who twisted his ankle in a game and refused to cry until he was home withme. I see the man who he’ll hopefully become, one who works hard and leaves the world a little better than he entered it.

And I have no other words for him besides the ones that have always been true. Will always be true. “I love you.” I brush my hand over his head then down the side of his face. “I will never stop loving you. No matter what.”

His eyes well with tears, and I tow him into me. He’s no longer my little boy, yet he’llalwaysbe my little boy. Even when he’s taller than me. I kiss his cheek, his temple, his ear, wherever I can reach. “I love you so much. Always and forever.”

His breath is shaky, and my shoulder feels wet when he lifts his face, though his cheeks are dry. “I love you too.”

“When you’re ready to talk more, we can. Okay?” I stand, pointing to the door. “But for now, when anyone is over, your door is going to stay open.”

He easily agrees, and I drop one last kiss on the top of his head. “I’m going to pick up dinner. Your sister wants to watchWickedagain. I’d really like it if you watched it with us.”

It’s a fifty-fifty shot, and just when I think our lovely little family moment will carry over into a lovely little family evening, he scoffs. “No way.”

Like I asked him to hold a tapeworm for me.

“Then why don’t you go outside and ask Dante if he wants help?“

Jake rolls over to peek out his window. “What’s he building?”

“I don’t know. But go tell him I ordered him dinner too.”

My kid doesn’t need any more prodding. He pulls on a hoodie and steps into his sneakers before heading outside, and I watch from the window as he exchanges a few words with Dante, who easily strikes up a conversation that I can’t hear.Though it’s not long until Jake’s got a hammer in hand and Dante’s instructing him.

And an hour later, after we’ve all shared dinner at my kitchen table, Maddie invites Dante to watch the movie with us in the living room, and when he decides to stay, so does Jake.

That’s how I get my lovely little family evening.

With Dante.

And my kids.

And Frankie eating leftover popcorn between us.