Andrew slid off the couch at that point, padded over to his brother, and wrapped both arms around Logan’s leg without any context or explanation, the way toddlers do. Logan looked down at him and ruffled his hair. I looked at my sons standing there in our kitchen and couldn’t look away.
Officer Benny picked up his cap from the counter and turned to me. “I remembered what you told me at the store last month. That you were worried about Logan.
That you didn’t know if you were handling it right.”
I had said that. I’d run into Officer Benny in the cereal aisle and somehow ended up telling him more than I meant to. “You deserved to hear this part too,” he said.
“That’s why I called you. You don’t need to worry about Logan as much as you think. He’s figuring things out.
He’s becoming the kind of young man you can rely on.”
Officer Benny put his cap on and headed for the door. I stepped forward and put my arms around Logan before I’d entirely decided to. He went a little stiff at first, the way teenagers do when you hug them out of the blue.
I held on anyway, just for a second longer than usual. Then Logan hugged me back. “Hey.
It’s okay, Mom.”
I pulled back and looked at him. “I thought I was the one holding everything together, sweetie. I thought I was the only one keeping this family upright.”
Logan looked at me for a moment with an expression I hadn’t seen on him in a long time, something open, a little tired, and completely honest.
“No, Mom, we both are.”
***
Later that evening, after Officer Benny was long gone and Andrew had fallen back asleep on the couch after his bowl of chicken nuggets and fries, I sat at the kitchen table and watched Logan rinse dishes at the sink. He was humming something under his breath while he worked, low and easy, a song I half-recognized from somewhere I couldn’t place. I sat very still, listening.
It hit me then that I hadn’t heard Logan hum in over a year. Somewhere in the noise, the exhaustion, and the worry, that small, ordinary thing had slipped away without me noticing. And now it was back, quiet and easy, like it had been waiting for the right moment to return.
I stayed at the table until the dishes were done, saying nothing.
