My Father Pushed Me Into a Fountain at My Sister’s Wedding—Then He Met the Husband I’d Kept Private for Three Years
“Three times.”
She looked at me.
“Is he always this annoying?”
“Only before nine.”
“I can hear you,” he said.
For a minute, we talked about coffee, toast, and a cookbook containing a recipe Adrian insisted he could make successfully.
The ease did not erase Thursday evening.
It made room for something beside it.
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