I laughed through tears.
“Not enough yet.”
A tiny smile appeared on his face.
Then the man stood again, slowly this time.
“Can I…” He swallowed hard. “Can I buy him something? Food, a jersey, anything? I know it doesn’t fix what I did.”
Paula looked at him for a long second.
Then she said quietly, “He likes pretzels.”
The man nodded quickly.
“Pretzels. Got it.”
He practically ran toward the concession stand.
Dean crouched near Paula.
“Do you need anything? Water? Space? Someone to keep people back?”
She gave him a shaky smile.
“No. Thank you.”
Then she looked at me and said, “I almost didn’t bring him.”
“Why did you?” I asked.
