Chapter 65

Seconds later, I dropped my mail on the kitchen table, deciding to sift through it later, but kept the pool boy’s single letter in hand. I went in search of him and eventually found him upstairs, in his bedroom. I knocked twice and called out, “Tacoma?”

He answered the door with a white towel wrapped around his lower half, dripping wet and freshly showered.

“You’ve got mail,” I chirped, holding out the letter.

“Mail?”

“Yes. It comes once a day. Usually letters and bills, communication from the outer world. You young people rely on email, but I still love to get snail mail.” I passed the single envelope to him.

He opened it right there with wet hands, read the single letter, and smiled.

“What is it?” I intruded.

“UCLA accepted me for fall classes. They start in two weeks.”

Deflated, I didn’t smile. Maybe I should have. “Congratulations.”