Have You Seen Me?

He touches my hand. There's no way he isn't mine. I fix his coat and kiss his forehead. He coos and continues to stroke my hand.  I look back at the paper. They call him James, but he'll never know that name. My wife comes out with the bags. "Are you ready to go, Chris?" she asks.

He coos again and reaches for her. She pulls him into her arms and kisses his chubby cheek. "I have the passports," I say, pulling them out of my pocket.

She smiles, and snuggles him into her arms. "You're going to love Canada."