Page 71 of Under One Roof

“I have to take out the garbage anyway.”

“Beat me, and you won’t have to.”

He rolls his eyes, so I try again.

“Winner gets ten bucks.”

“No one uses cash anymore,” he says like I’m a fucking dumbass, and I am really not looking forward to the next six or seven years of this.

“Jesus, kid, what do you want?”

He thinks on it. “Sleepover at Sebastian’s house.”

Sebastian is his best friend, and Logan’s slept at his house before because I’ve met his dad and trust him, a fellow single father until recently who owns a candy store downtown. “Is his dad going to be home?”

“Yeah.”

“I need evidence.”

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles and takes the ball from my hands to stand at the other end of the drive, opposite the hoop.

He passes it to me, and I toss it back before squatting down to defend him. My son is a good athlete. I’ve never pushed my kids into any activities—hell, if they’d do less, it would be better for me—but basketball is what Logan is best at, and I hope he continues to play. He’s fast, with good control and body awareness.

Even though I usually beat him one-on-one, he always scores a few points. Today, I let him score more. The game’s even at nine-nine when he fakes a shot before dribbling around me to hit a lay-up. The ball circles the rim but ultimately doesn’t go in. I snatch the rebound and take it back to the top of the key before sinking a jump shot, beating him.

He sighs but claps my hand when I extend mine, allowing me to pull him into a hug. “You can sleep at Seb’s house, but I will be speaking to his dad first.”

Logan unfurls a smile, the first I’ve seen all day, as we plop down on the grass. I bend my legs up, setting my arms on my knees. Logan shadows me.

“So,” I start, “you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing really to talk about.”

Silence settles between us for a while, and even though it’s almost eight, the sky is still light, the sun slowing its progression to the horizon the closer we get to summer, and I think about the possibilities. Things I’ve thought about doing with my kids but never felt ready or confident or competent enough to follow through with.

I always had this dream of renting an RV for a summer and driving to different states to camp. Go see the biggest ball of yarn or whatever dumb shit they have at weird highway rest stops. But I’d never brought it up because I assumed the twins wouldn’t want to or I wouldn’t be able to handle them on my own for that length of time. Maybe now, they’d want to. I’ve certainly accrued enough vacation time. Maybe I’d bring it up later, after talking to Andi. The kids have camps, but I’m sure we could work it out.

I lean over, bumping Logan’s shoulder. “It sucks when you like someone and they don’t like you back.”

He dips his chin. “Yeah.”

“But you know what that means?” I wait until he looks over at me. “She’s not your person. And that’s okay. Because one day, you’re gonna meet someone who is your person. And she’s gonna like you back just as much as you like her.”

He considers this for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “How will I know she’s my person?”

“Well…” I rub at the back of my neck. “You sort of…feel it, I guess. Plus, when you tell her how you feel, she’ll feel the same way.”

Logan stares out ahead of him, at the houses. A minute passes until he finally says, “I really liked her, and I thought I felt it.”

“I think you’ll feel a lot of things in the next few years, but it’s different when you meet the one. I don’t know very many people who meet their person in fifth grade.”

He pulls on a few blades of grass, letting them float back to the ground in the breeze. Does it another two times before turning to me. “Is Andi your person?”

The question catches me off guard, but I don’t hesitate. “Yes, she is.”

He nods a few times, eyes out across the street again. “I like her.”

“Me too.” Understatement of the century.

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