I instinctively reached toward it.
Frank immediately placed his hand over the card.
“No.”
I withdrew my hand.
“Sorry.”
“That’s exactly what I’m learning not to need,” he said gently.
Then he opened the card.
Inside was a message written in his grandson’s uneven handwriting.
Frank began to read.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He paused at unfamiliar words.
Sometimes he sounded out letters under his breath.
At one point, I recognized a word immediately and almost said it aloud.
Eliam glanced at me.
I closed my mouth.
We waited.
Frank tried again.
He studied the letters.
Then his expression brightened.
He had found the word himself.
Eventually, he reached the final sentence.
“You’re my best buddy.”
His voice trembled.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the card.
Nobody spoke.
Then Frank rubbed one eye with his finger.
“Kid still can’t draw a decent dinosaur,” he muttered.
