guys do…and Dad did when he was young.”
“Hey, I don’t care about that.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right? I couldn’t care less if you played sports. I want you to be happy and do what you enjoy.”
“I know.” He looked down. “I just…want to be more like you, I guess. I’m smaller than all the other guys, and I don’t like the things they do, and I can’t breathe sometimes. I had an asthma attack at school once, and they were all staring at me like I was some kind of freak. They call me twig, and four eyes, and girly boy, and stuff like that. Well, they did in Colorado.”
Christ, I thought my heart was going to break. And I wanted to pummel some middle schoolers. I wanted to hug him and tell him I loved him, but I didn’t know if that would make him feel the way Callum had said his mom’s attention did. There were a million things going through my head, but I knew this was the answer we’d been missing, the one Logan hadn’t wanted to share with us, but he had today…because of Callum.
“Did they call you names too?” he asked Callum, who nodded.
“Sometimes, yeah, they did, but you know what? I wasn’t nearly as brave as you. I never told my parents. I just dealt with it and always had a laugh or a smile or a joke so they didn’t see that I was really sad inside. It’s good that you’re telling your dad. It’s not healthy to hold it in. I did, and it got worse when I got older. I was really sad at one point. I had to take medication for it and see a therapist and everything.”
Christ, that was incredible of Callum, sharing that with us. It made that strange draw to him I’d felt from the beginning pull me closer.
And he was good at this—at talking with kids. I should have told Logan how brave he was, how proud of him I was. “Hey.” I knelt in front of him.
“I’ll give you guys a minute,” I heard Callum say in the background, but I didn’t look up. I kept my gaze on Logan.
“I love you no matter what. I always will. If you never want to play ball, I won’t care. If you don’t want to work out with me or learn to carve or anything like that, I won’t care. None of that stuff matters. I love you, and I’m proud of who you are, okay? And those other kids, that’s their problem and their loss because they’re missing out on the best person I know. You’re smart and funny and have such a big heart. If they don’t see that—well, it’s probably not appropriate for me to say what I want to about them.” I pushed his hair back and cupped his face. Wiped the tears leaking from his eyes. “It doesn’t matter how big you are or any of those other things. They don’t hold your worth. I’m the luckiest dad in the world to have you for my son, and I want you to know you can always, always come and talk to me about anything. You don’t ever need to feel like you can’t come to me. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“I feel like there’s something wrong with me sometimes. Charlie likes doing that stuff with you.”
“Everyone is different, buddy. I wish I was as smart as you. You and Charlie are different people, and I love you both for different reasons.”
He nodded, and I pulled him into a hug. Logan cried into my shoulder, took his glasses off and set them beside him. No one came in, no one bothered us, and I knew that was because of Callum.
I held my son and told him I loved him over and over.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when he pulled away. I got him tissues to wipe his face. He cleaned his glasses and put them back on. “We good?” I asked.
“Yeah, Dad.”
I couldn’t believe he’d been dealing with all that and had never told his mom or me. I’d make sure to pay extra attention now—and talk to the school to make sure none of that happened again.
I opened the door and stuck my head out. Callum was standing at the counter, looking at a piece of paper. His eyes darted up as if he felt my stare. He