You’re not alone, bud. You never were. Not for one day.
Hold the light.
Dad
At the bottom of the page was Ray’s phone number, written twice, as if David had worried one wouldn’t be enough.
I read it three times.
Then I sat down on the curb of the parking lot, right there in my good slacks, and I cried harder than I had at the funeral.
Caleb sat down beside me. After a minute, I felt his shoulder lean into mine.
“When did you find it?” I asked, when I could talk again.
“In April. One of the strings broke. I went to get the extra ones from the case, and the lining was coming loose, and it was in there.” He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. “I read it like a hundred times. I didn’t know what to do. And then the flyer came home. And I thought…” He stopped. “I thought, this is the day. This is the day he meant.”
