“I keep paper in a drawer at home,” he said.

“I’m not proud of it.

I’m not sorry either.”

His daughter is at UConn, and he says her tuition is the only number he still trusts.

He told me that once in a parking garage and never again until now.

The call went quiet, and I sat holding a warm phone.

The driveway at the estate is long and gravel, and the tires made their old sound the whole way to the door.

My father stood in the doorway with his coat off, holding the tablet out at arm’s length, as if he did not trust it either.