The King of Clubs: Andrew Brown
“Did you hear something?”
“It sounded like a truck.”
“I’ll go look.”
It was still high summer and the lingering warmth of the day hung in the night air as Andrew stepped out on the stoop and stared at the large cardboard box. It hadn’t been at the door when he’d gone in tonight, and they weren’t expecting any deliveries. The faintest cry seemed to rise from the box. Andrew peered down into the darkness, fearing baby raccoons or worse a skunk. Dropping quickly to one knee, he scooped up the tiny bundle.
“Doug! Doug, you need to get out here!”
Andrew’s fingers fumbled with the note pinned to the blankets swaddling the infant. He pulled out a single sheet only partially filled with messy print.
You did so well with me I thought I’d give you a second chance. Maybe this time around you can get it right. Don’t try to find me. I know I’m not up to raising a child.
Your ever loving son.
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