“Toby, are you scared when Dad travels?”
“No.”
I tried again.
“What do you hate when Dad travels?”
“Toby, are you scared when Dad travels?”
This time he thought about it.
“Dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“It’s too quiet here.”
“What else?”
“Bedtime.”
“Why bedtime?”
He kicked one heel lightly against the bed frame.
“Two people say goodnight faster than one.”
I had to look away.
He noticed.
“Mom?”
“I’m okay, sweetie,” I said.
“Two people say goodnight faster than one.”
He studied my face.
Then he did something I’d seen a hundred times.
He smiled.
A huge, ridiculous smile.
Exactly like the selfie he’d sent me.
I sat back on my heels, holding his tiny wrists.
“Toby, why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“That smile.”
His smile vanished.
“Toby, why do you always do that?”
I picked up his phone from the desk.
Opened our message thread.
There they were.
