Before I could ask anything else, Ben walked in without his backpack.
“Where’s your little green shadow?” I asked. “Your backpack?”
Adam frowned. “What backpack?”
I lowered the spatula.
“The small green one Ben’s had all summer.”
Adam looked at him. “Where is it?”
“In the car.”
“No, it’s not.”
Ben’s shoulders tightened.
“Nobody’s in trouble,” I said.
Adam rubbed his forehead. “Just get your shoes, buddy.”
Ben left without another word.
A minute later, I watched him carry the green backpack outside to the car.
I looked at my son.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
That was Adam’s usual way of ending conversations.
Most times, I let him.
That morning, I did too.
Ten minutes later, we were outside saying goodbye.
Sophie wrapped both arms around my waist.
“Can I come back next summer?” Sophie asked.
