Her voice wavered as she struggled to find the right words. “That man is your grandfather.”
I sank into my couch, trying to process what I’d just heard. My grandfather? The mysterious, generous man who had been tipping me $100 every Sunday? I had so many questions. Why hadn’t she told me about him? Why was he at Denny’s, quietly sipping coffee and leaving generous tips? Why didn’t he ever say anything?
“Mom, I don’t understand. How is this possible?” I finally asked, my mind racing with confusion and curiosity.
