Skip to content 
Not politely.
Not because someone had sent him a joke.
It was the nervous, hopeful smile of a man remembering that someone might still find him interesting.
“What are you looking at?”
Dad locked the screen immediately.
“Nothing.”
I raised one eyebrow.
He lasted fewer than ten seconds.
“I made a profile.”
“A dating profile?”
He nodded, suddenly looking embarrassed.
“I can delete it.”
“Why would you delete it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe this is ridiculous at my age.”
I crossed the kitchen and hugged him.
Dad remained stiff for a moment.
Then he wrapped his arms around me.
“I think Mom would approve,” I said.
“I hope so.”
His voice was quiet.
Soon, he began meeting women.
He told me about each one before the date.
The first was a librarian named Ruth who loved old detective novels.
The second owned a small pie shop.
The third volunteered at an animal rescue center.
A fourth taught music lessons.
A fifth worked as an office manager.
The sixth was a retired physical therapist who enjoyed hiking.