I chuckled softly, the sound unfamiliar after so many silent years.
“Would you two… like to come over sometime?” I asked. “For tea. I haven’t had guests in years, but I think the table might be ready for company.”
Graham smiled warmly.
“We’d love to.”
From that day forward, everything began to change.
At first it was simple conversations over the fence.
Then we shared small moments—photos of Henry’s drawings, birds nesting in my oak tree.
Eventually we began drinking tea together in the yard.
Henry loved the glowing statues and insisted they made the place feel magical.
One afternoon he approached me holding a book.
“Mr. Hawthorne, will you read to me?”
I hesitated.
I had not read to a child in decades.
But when he looked up at me with those eager eyes, I opened the book and began.
It soon became our routine.
Graham later explained that Henry had Down syndrome and that reading helped him connect with the world.
“If it helps, I’ll read to him every day,” I said.
“You already have,” Graham replied quietly. “More than you know.”
