He complained about the cafeteria. I complained about people returning books with coffee rings on the covers.
For that entire first year, I knew more about Jeffrey Hale’s daily life than people who lived four doors down from him.
Then They Slowed Down
Every week became every other week.
Every other week became once a month.
I told myself college was changing him.
The honest version is that my life was changing too. I’d gotten into the teaching program at West Chester. I was making new friends. I went on dates.
But every single time something important happened — good or bad — Jeffrey was still the first person I wanted to tell.
That never changed. Not once. Not in forty-one years, as it turns out.
The Letter About Margaret
During his second year, he wrote about a girl.
Margaret. She was in the nursing program. He said she was funny in a way that caught him off guard. He said she argued with him about everything and was usually right.
