“Thanks so much for picking me up. I could have taken a ride service.” For a moment I was struck by how different Brax’s voice was from the kid that I’d lived with so many years before. It was a ridiculous thought. He’d been twelve or thirteen, awkward and just beginning puberty. Of course his voice had changed. I’d hardly known him then, but the memories I had were of him turning fire-engine red every time I tried to talk with him and many stammered conversations around the dinner table. It was hard to believe that the nervous kid with a squeaky voice had turned into the confident man sitting
...more
