Jeffrey sat on a small bench with his dad in front of the house just for stargazing. The two of them would sit there for hours just looking up at the night sky. And every time, Jeffrey’s dad would point out the same cluster of stars.
“Those 3 stars there, they make a–”
“A triangle, yes, Dad, I know,” he said.
“And that’s home,” his dad said in a low voice. They shared a bit of silence just then. Maybe Jeffrey didn’t hear him right.
“Home?” he asked. Jeffrey turned back to see the only home he’d ever known. His dad was still looking up at the sky.
“Well, my home. Not yours or your mother’s.” He exhaled deeply. “All these years, I’ve been waiting for a sign. Now I’m not so sure there’s going to be one.” His dad sat back and crossed his arms never taking his eyes off that little triangle of stars.
The sign wouldn’t come until the day after his dad had died. And it would be 21 more years until he’d see another.
