Expensive watch.
Gray beginning at his temples.
I knew him immediately anyway.
There were three old photographs of him in a box in Mom’s closet.
He smiled.
“Look at you.”
I couldn’t move.
“Happy birthday, son.”
Son.
Fourteen years without a birthday card, and suddenly I was son.
“Why are you here?”
His smile faltered.
“I know I’ve got explaining to do.”
“Fourteen years of it.”
Mom said my name softly.
But he nodded.
“You’re right.”
Then his smile returned.
“But I figured today wasn’t the day for excuses. Today’s for you.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder.
I almost pulled away.
“Come outside.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
He guided me toward the driveway.
That’s when I noticed the bow.
A huge red one.
Beneath it sat the brand-new black car he’d arrived in. For a moment, I genuinely couldn’t understand what I was seeing.
