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He
stops
,
clears
his
throat
,
takes
a
breath
,
and
continues
.
"
But
that
’
s
what
I
want
and
I
could
see
why
it
might
not
be
what
you
want
.
So
I
just
wanted
to
tell
you
that
I
understand
if
you
go
.
It
’
s
okay
if
you
have
to
leave
us
.
It
’
s
okay
if
you
want
to
stop
fighting
.
"
For
the
first
time
since
I
realized
that
Teddy
was
gone
,
too
,
I
feel
something
unclench
.
I
feel
myself
breathe
.
I
know
that
Gramps
can
’
t
be
that
late
-
inning
pinch
hitter
I
’
d
hoped
for
.
He
won
’
t
unplug
my
breathing
tube
or
overdose
me
with
morph
*
*
e
or
anything
like
that
.
But
this
is
the
first
time
today
that
anyone
has
acknowledged
what
I
have
lost
.
I
know
that
the
social
worker
warned
Gran
and
Gramps
not
to
upset
me
,
but
Gramps
’
s
recognition
,
and
the
permission
he
just
offered
me
—
it
feels
like
a
gift
.
Gramps
doesn
’
t
leave
me
.
He
slumps
back
into
the
chair
.
It
’
s
quiet
now
.
So
quiet
that
you
can
almost
hear
other
people
’
s
dreams
.
So
quiet
that
you
can
almost
hear
me
tell
Gramps
,
"
Thank
you
.
"
When
Mom
had
Teddy
,
Dad
was
still
playing
drums
in
the
same
band
he
’
d
been
in
since
college
.
They
’
d
released
a
couple
of
CDs
;
they
’
d
gone
on
a
tour
every
summer
.
The
band
was
by
no
means
big
,
but
they
had
a
following
in
the
Northwest
and
in
various
college
towns
between
here
and
Chicago
.
And
,
weirdly
,
they
had
a
bunch
of
fans
in
Japan
.
The
band
was
always
getting
letters
from
Japanese
teenagers
begging
them
to
come
play
,
and
offering
up
their
homes
as
crash
pads
.
Dad
was
always
saying
that
if
they
went
,
he
’
d
take
me
and
Mom
.
Mom
and
I
even
learned
a
few
words
of
Japanese
just
in
case
.
Konnichiwa
.
Arigatou
.
It
never
panned
out
,
though
.
After
Mom
announced
she
was
pregnant
with
Teddy
,
the
first
sign
that
changes
were
afoot
was
when
Dad
went
and
got
himself
a
learner
’
s
permit
.
At
age
thirty
-
three
.
He
tried
letting
Mom
teach
him
to
drive
,
but
she
was
too
impatient
,
he
said
.
Dad
was
too
sensitive
to
criticism
,
Mom
said
.
So
Gramps
took
Dad
out
along
the
empty
country
lanes
in
his
pickup
truck
,
just
like
he
’
d
done
with
the
rest
of
Dad
’
s
siblings
—
except
they
’
d
all
learned
to
drive
when
they
were
sixteen
.
Next
up
was
the
wardrobe
change
,
but
it
wasn
’
t
something
any
of
us
noticed
right
away
.
It
wasn
’
t
like
one
day
he
stripped
off
the
tight
black
jeans
and
band
tees
in
exchange
for
suits
.
It
was
more
subtle
.
First
the
band
tees
went
out
in
the
window
in
favor
of
button
-
up
1950s
rayon
numbers
,
which
he
dug
up
at
the
Goodwill
until
they
started
getting
trendy
and
he
had
to
buy
them
from
the
fancy
vintage
-
clothing
shop
.
Then
the
jeans
went
in
the
bin
,
except
for
one
pair
of
impeccable
,
dark
blue
Levi
’
s
,
which
Dad
ironed
and
wore
on
weekends
.
Most
days
he
wore
neat
,
flat
-
front
cuffed
trousers
.
But
when
,
a
few
weeks
after
Teddy
was
born
,
Dad
gave
away
his
leather
jacket
—
his
prized
beat
-
up
motorcycle
jacket
with
the
fuzzy
leopard
belt
—
we
finally
realized
that
a
major
transformation
was
under
way
.
"
Dude
,
you
cannot
be
serious
,
"
Henry
said
when
Dad
handed
him
the
jacket
.
"
You
’
ve
been
wearing
this
thing
since
you
were
a
kid
.
It
even
smells
like
you
.
"
Dad
shrugged
,
ending
the
conversation
.
Then
he
went
to
pick
up
Teddy
,
who
was
squalling
from
his
bassinet
.
