A Note From Marcus’ Dad
I knew I was in trouble the moment I met Marcus. He was 2 1/2 years old and tiny. He looked at me and smiled, only it wasn’t a smile of courtesy at being introduced, it was a smile of great enthusiasm as if he already knew and loved me; like I’d returned. It scared me.
At first, it was because I had a thing for his mother, and by way of implication, that could mean a heavy responsibility was literally staring me in the