Ryan

A few days later…

I marvel at the sight of Lewis holding Ian to his chest in the nearby recliner. He’s winey with a tummy ache but not feverish.

Suddenly, Ian coughs then pukes on Lewis’s chest. Instead of laying my son down or gagging at the smell, Lewis places Ian on his outstretched thighs, and deftly removes his grey t-shirt. He wads it up and tosses it toward the laundry room then cuddles Ian tightly to his bare chest.

And oh, what a chest it is. When ...