Nice is a simple word, but the way Margaret said it made it sound like a diagnosis.
David squeezed my hand under the table. He had that steady, gentle presence that made people feel safe, and I understood quickly why he’d grown up into someone warm despite a mother who could freeze a room with a smile.
“She’s more than nice,” David said, calm but firm. “She’s smart, she’s kind, and she actually listens.”
Margaret’s lips curved. “Of course, darling. I’m only saying… our worlds are rather different.”
Our worlds, like I was visiting from another planet instead of living fifty minutes away.
David and I met at a charity read-aloud event at a children’s hospital. I was there with my class, and he was there because his firm sponsored the program. He didn’t introduce himself with a title. He sat on the carpet with the kids and did funny voices for the characters, and when a shy little boy hid behind my knee, David quietly slid a stuffed dinosaur across the floor like it was a secret mission.
Later, in the hallway, he asked me where I bought my dinosaur earrings.