At brunch Lindsay’s dad asked me what was in my locket. “Nothing,” I said. “It’s just a book.” I pulled it out towards him, shrugging. “it’s empty. It’s a metaphor or something probably.” me and lindsay laughed.
We changed the subject and lindsay’s dad kept to himself, folding and refolding a dollar bill. Lindsay’s mom asked him what he was doing. I thought maybe he was making an origami frog or something to leave as a tip for the waiter, with whom he had struck up his typical friendly rapport, joking about being old and how business was doing.
A few minutes later he asked me for my locket, apologizing that it was only a dollar but that Lincoln’s face was too big.
My dad is the best dad.
