He extended his hand.
“I’m Andrew. You met my mother, Marjorie, yesterday. At the grocery store.”
“Yes… she found her ring,” I nodded. “I’m glad she did. I’d be torn if I ever lost mine. My wife is gone… and I… I’m glad your mom found hers.”
“She didn’t just find it, Lucas,” Andrew said. “You gave it back. And you did it at a time when she’s been unraveling. Since my father passed, she’s been holding herself together with routines — folding his laundry, brewing two cups of coffee every morning. That ring was the last gift he gave her. Losing it nearly broke her.”
His voice held something tight, unspoken.
“She remembered your name,” he added. “She asked the store manager if he knew you.”
“And he did?” I asked.
Andrew smiled. “He said you stop in often. Mentioned your daughter’s giggle — said it turns heads in the cereal aisle. Mom asked about the cameras. I have a friend in tech. Thanks to that parking fine you had, it didn’t take long to find your address.”
