The Garage Christmas: A Father, a Son, and the Dog Who Stayed

tapped my phone on the table.

“You should call your boy.”

“I will,” I said.

But my voice sounded like a man trying to convince himself.

Linda left. The cabin went quiet again, except for the stove ticking and Buster’s slow breathing.

I sat down and finally opened Ryan’s latest text.

Dad, she posted her side. People are contacting my office. I need you to continue reading …