There was a note at my door when I arrived home, along with the books and DVD's he had borrowed the other night. He wondered if maybe I would want to watch a movie together later.
I welcomed him down but declined to watch the movie he brought with him (I didn't think it was appropriate despite it's rating).
He wanted to tell me about the first day of football practice - of how they have to get down on one knee and look the coach in the eye when he speaks, and how they only get ten second water breaks and how today they practiced at his old middle school but tomorrow they get to practice at the new one. And he pulled out last year's yearbook so I could see his school picture (which he didn't like but smiled when I said it was a great picture) and to show me the picture of the girl that he likes. He answered my questions about her and told me a little about their relationship. He likes her but she turned him down. He still texts her, though and he thinks maybe she does like him a little. It was cute and innocent and sweet.
He walked the wet puppy with me and then spent some time looking for more books in Flash's room. When he emerged I told him I'd be busy tomorrow night but perhaps if he wanted to come visit again on Wednesday, I would be around. He said goodnight and thanked me again for letting him take more books with him. I thanked him for sharing his yearbook and movies with me. As he left he told me he had straightened up Flash's bookshelf. I thanked him for that gesture and he responded by saying, "It was the least I could do."
He is so very different from my own child, despite being the same age. But the fact that he so readily comes to my door, so easily sits down with much on his mind to talk about, so grateful for a book to borrow, a movie to watch again, someone just to talk to that my heart aches a little. He has a good mom, a hard working, single mom. I just hope she gets these wonderful, tender moments with him, too.