Tara came in behind him and wrapped both hands around the coffee mug I gave her.
She looked tired.
Adam looked worse.
“Are they ready?”
“How’s the house?” I asked.
“Getting there.”
“The kitchen floor finally done?”
Tara blinked.
“The floor?”
“Getting there.”
I turned from the stove.
“You said they were tearing it up.”
“Oh. Right. Yes.”
Adam cut in.
“It’s taking longer than expected. And the mess is unbelievable.”
Before I could ask more, Ben came in without his backpack.
“Oh. Right. Yes.”
“Where’s your little green shadow?” I asked. “Your backpack?”
Adam frowned. “What backpack?”
I lowered the spatula.
“The small green one Ben’s had all summer.”
Adam looked at him. “Where is it?”
“Your backpack?”
“In the car.”
“No, it’s not.”
Ben’s shoulders tightened.
“Nobody’s in trouble,” I said.
Adam rubbed his forehead. “Just get your shoes, buddy.”
“In the car.”
Ben left without another word.
A minute later, I saw him carry the green backpack out to the car.
I looked at my son.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom.”
