Jessica had tears standing in her eyes now. “Michael never told me. Did you know he volunteers at that same children’s hospital? Every single Saturday morning, he reads to the kids in the oncology ward.”
I smiled at my son, watching him try to hold himself together. “I know.”
“That’s actually where we met,” Jessica said softly. “I volunteer there too. That’s how we fell in love, neither of us knowing at the time that we were both there because of — because of your wife, Mr. Warren.”
The waiter reappeared, cheerfully oblivious to the emotional wreckage settled over the table. “Dessert, anyone?”
Richard waved him off distractedly. “The check, please. Put it on my membership.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’ll take care of it.”
I pulled a different card from my wallet — the black American Express Centurion card — and handed it to the waiter without a second glance.
