He wrote: “He didn’t fake liking you. He faked his age because he wasn’t brave enough to show you himself.”
I read it just as another message came.
“He was still wrong. Just thought you should know.”
I laughed and messaged him back a “thank you.”
Before my flight home, I sent David one message.
“Let’s meet at the public garden. Noon. For one hour.”
He arrived early. Of course he did.
He wore a blue shirt and black pants.
We sat on a bench, where he told me everything.
His battle with cancer. His fear after his wife died.
How aging seemed to happen all at once.
How he created Facebook because Noah said he needed to talk to “people who weren’t relatives.”
I said, “He is a smart boy.”
David smiled. “He gets it from his mother.”
Then he apologized again. Properly, with no excuses.
