Rebuilding my place in their lives had not happened quickly. It required weeks of careful conversations with Jessi, formal custody agreements, and patient afternoons that gave Leo time to become comfortable with the man who had suddenly entered his world.
I never demanded that he call me Dad.
I simply showed up.
Every weekend.
Every school event I was invited to.
Every time I promised I would come, I walked through the door.
Jessi stepped onto the back porch carrying two glasses of lemonade and a plate of fruit. She leaned against the railing and watched us with a warm smile I had not seen in nearly a decade.
“Ivan! Look!” Leo shouted.
He pressed the plastic launch button.
The model rocket shot upward, climbed thirty feet, then released its tiny parachute and drifted toward the grass.
Leo raced across the yard after it, laughing.
I climbed the porch steps and accepted a glass from Jessi.
