Wade never behaved that way.
If a nurse told him to wash his hands again, he washed them.
If a toy needed to be cleaned before entering the room, he waited.
If Eli was too exhausted for company, he left quietly.
Once, I heard him tell a frustrated visitor in the hallway, "They know how to keep these kids safe. Our job is to listen."
The words stayed with me.
A man who looked capable of intimidating half the people in the building had absolutely no interest in arguing with the nurses.
I began to trust him.
Not immediately.
Not without hesitation.
But little by little, he became part of our lives.
The first time I saw Wade cry was on a Tuesday in late autumn.
Eli had been having a relatively good morning. He was sitting up against his pillows, wearing a soft blue shirt and a pair of gray pajama pants. His energy was better than it had been the previous week, and the nurse had approved a short play session.
Wade arrived carrying a new red fire truck.
It was bright and shiny, with tiny silver ladders molded along its sides.
Eli gasped.
"That's not a race car."
Wade looked at it.
"Are you sure?"
"It's a fire truck."
The biker examined the toy with exaggerated confusion.
"Well, I'll be."
Eli laughed.
Wade placed the truck beside the other cars.
"Guess the fire department's entering the championship."
Eli immediately began making siren noises.
They played for several minutes before my son noticed an old blue car near the edge of the blanket. It was the one Wade had brought on his first visit.
Eli picked it up.
"This one's my favorite."
Wade smiled.
"Good choice."
My son studied the blue car.
Then he looked at the biker.
"What's your favorite?"
Wade's smile faded.
For just a moment, he seemed very far away.
I saw his hand move toward the pocket of his leather vest.
Then he stopped.
"That's a tough question, little man."
Eli frowned.
"Don't you have one?"
Wade looked down at the toys.
"Sure do."
"Where is it?"
The biker rubbed his thumb against the edge of his vest.
"At home."
"Why?"
Wade hesitated.
"Because it's special."
Eli considered that.
Then he held up the blue car.
"Mine's special too."
Wade nodded.
"I can tell."
Eli extended the toy toward him.
"You can hold it."
The biker stared.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he reached out and accepted the tiny car.