He is relentless. He says his favorite person is just there at the Sweet Stand and is alone, won’t I go with him to say hello?
I hesitate, look down into the beaming face of my son and give in. I always do, when it’s something dear to his heart. He jumps up and down excitedly, the native Englander’s looking up to smile at the behavior of the over-exuberant American boy.
My son grabs my hand, unceremoniously pulling me toward the distinguished looking gentlemen standing at the SweetStand talking comfortably with the young attendant. He hears my sons voice and smiles with the warmest, most welcoming smile I have ever seen.
He looks up, our eyes meet and I whisper shyly, “Hello Keith.”