I’m sitting in the truck in the driveway because if I go inside the floorboards will creak and he’ll wake up and start asking why I’m home at 1 AM. He thinks I’m pulling overtime on the bridge job. He thinks I’m out there breaking my back for time-and-a-half like a good son. I’m not. I’m sitting in a damn community college parking lot three towns over staring at critical path diagrams and resource allocation charts until my eyes bleed.