if he was right, but I do know this: he talked about you before you could even talk back. You were loved before you were born, and you were loved every year after.”
”Happy birthday, Adrian.”
”Tom.”
Adrian read that twice, then handed it to me.
“He sounds like Grandpa’s kind of person.”
“He was,” I said. “Stubborn enough to keep a promise that long.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“Sounds familiar.”
Around midnight, after half the cake was gone and neither of us had many tears left, Adrian asked, “Do you
