Mark got home and he went straight to the studio that they had in their house. There sat his father with his headphones on with his guitar.

He went over and tapped him on the shoulder.

Isaac’s head went straight up.

“Mark. What’s up, bud?”

“Can we talk, Dad?”

Isaac pulled the headphones off and set his guitar down. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Dad, tell me about you and you career. What’s important to you?”

“Why the sudden interest?”

“I just want to know.”

“Okay, well…I was born November seventeenth, nineteen-eighty….”

Isaac and his son sat there in the studio for hours talking about everything.

After a while Mark realized he could answer his uncle's questions. He was like his father. He had just never taken the time to notice or care. His dad was an interesting guy. He was glad that he was finally paying attention to him.

A couple of weeks later the phone rang at Taylor’s house and Chris answered it.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to, Chris.”

“This is he.”

“Chris, this is Taylor.”

“Hi, how are you doing?”

“I’m great. They put me in a home with a mom and a dad. They like me, I’m doing great. How are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m home.”