Chapter 85

Even mine.

Before we hung up, Spencer hesitated a moment.

“What is it?” I asked, heart in mouth, hoping he’d changed his mind about spending time with us over the holidays.

“Did you get me a book for Christmas?” he finally asked. There was no mockery or sarcasm in his tone. No, he sounded emotional. A rare occurrence.

“Yeah.” I stared out the living room window, at the rising moon. “You’ll probably think it’s lame.”

He hesitated again. “Nothing you give me is ever lame, Dwek.”

Dwek. He hadn’t called me that since he was three years old. I tried not to get too choked up. “Spence…your dad loves you more than he can say or show. And I don’t know why it’s so hard for him to—”

“Dad loves people who kiss his butt.”