Every stoplight felt longer than the last.
Every turn carried me closer to a man I had spent years trying not to imagine.
Jordan pointed ahead.
“There.”
A silver pickup sat on the shoulder with its hazard lights blinking. A man stood beside it, talking to someone from roadside assistance.
His back was toward us.
He’d gotten broader through the shoulders.
His dark hair had faded to silver at the temples.
But the way he stood, one hand tucked into his pocket while the other rested against the truck, I knew it before he even turned around.
Jordan jumped out first.
“Dad!”
The man looked up, then his eyes found mine through the windshield.
He stopped moving.
The roadside mechanic said something to him.
Richard never answered.
For several long seconds, neither of us existed anywhere except that stretch of quiet Massachusetts road.
Stormy looked from him to me, then back again.
“Mom?”
I stepped out of the car.
Neither of us moved any closer.
He looked older; life had left its marks. The easy confidence I’d once known had been replaced by something quieter.
More careful.
“Doron.”
Hearing my name in his voice after almost undid me.
“Richard.”
Jordan looked between us.
“You two know each other?”
Stormy gave a small, confused laugh.
“I think that’s becoming the understatement of the century.”
Richard’s eyes dropped briefly to the little blue bear swinging from Jordan’s backpack. When he looked back at me, I saw recognition settle across his face.
“He showed you.”
I nodded once.
“The bear.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
“I wondered if this day would ever come.”
Stormy frowned.
