John set his beer down in the sink. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. I guess I should have trusted the postal system more.”
“No, Dad.”
Todd stepped forward and grabbed his father’s arm.
“I’m glad you did, actually. Look, I understand why you feel the way you do about slaves, because of Mom. But that wasn’t Nick’s fault. He’s a good guy, and he’s my family. Can’t you just see him like that? For me?”
“You really do love him,” John said, his voice soft.
“Yes.” Todd nodded. “And he loves me.”
John was quiet for a moment. “Maybe before dinner you could tell me a little more about him?” he finally asked.
Smiling, Todd said, “I’d like that. And, Dad, talk to him, just talk. He’s not the enemy, and he wants you to like him, or at least accept him. He’s also got a memory like no one else I
