At 62, I Flew 1,100 Miles to Surprise a Man I’d Met on Facebook – Then a Teenage Boy Opened His Door and Said My Name
He nodded. “Yes, David.”
For about two seconds, everything felt fine again.
The house was real.
David was real.
Then the boy added, “But he hasn’t told you everything.”
The relief disappeared. “What do you mean by that?”
He opened the door wider. “Come in.”
I hesitated.
Every sensible instinct I had ignored for months came rushing back at once.
The boy must have seen something on my face.
“I’m Noah,” he said. “I’m his grandson.”
I stepped inside. The house smelled like coffee and furniture polish.
I recognized the hallway from one of David’s pictures.
The green mug was on the kitchen counter.
That stupid mug gave me more comfort than it should have.
Then a voice called from another room. “Noah, who is it?”
The voice was David’s. I knew it immediately.
Noah called out. “Granddad, you should come here.”
A few seconds later, David appeared in the hallway.
