phone.
“Nothing.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He lasted less than ten seconds before giving up.
“I made a profile.”
“A dating profile?”
He nodded, suddenly looking self-conscious.
Before he could explain, I wrapped him in a hug.
At first he stood stiffly, then hugged me back.
“I think Mom would approve,” I told him.
“I hope so,” he murmured.
Soon afterward, he began meeting wonderful women.
Before every date, he told me about them.
One worked in a library.
Another owned a neighborhood bakery.
A third spent weekends volunteering at
