He put his hand on his cheek again. “I want to be with you and do silly things, Jeffrey, like we used to. I want to feed you ice cream and lick it off your chest when I spill it on purpose, sing Journey love songs to you and switch the pronouns around.”
“Open Arms,” Jeffrey said, smiling. “No pronoun switching required.”
Bruce nodded, then reached into his pocket for his wallet, bringing out the note from his memory box that he kept there. He silently handed it to Jeffrey.
He unfolded it, reading, then folded it back up again, handing it back to Bruce after he held it up to his nose, smelling it with his eyes closed. When he opened them, they were wet.