He stood in the doorway of a condo in a fifty-five-and-over community and he looked about nine years old.
“Mom. Can I come in.”
And I said: “You can sit on the patio. Delphine’s here and she’s staying.”
He sat down and he said: “I don’t understand what happened.”
And I said: “I read the bin, Daniel.”
He put his head down.
And then my forty-four-year-old son cried on a patio in Scottsdale, Arizona, and said:
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
And I said: “That it was eighteen hundred and fifty dollars?”
And he said: “That I needed you to be there.”
That’s the sentence. Eleven months later, that’s still the sentence.
Because do you know what he said next? He said:
