learning man stuff, step 2.
Last night, between the purple pureed Peruvian potatoes and the Spanish coffee (which I ordered thinking was made from Basque coffee beans), Nick pulled me aside, figuratively, and the table went quiet. I could barely hear his hushed voice, but I got the idea. In intimate tones, he said what a turning point in his Burn it was, the day he taught me how to shave. That up to then he thought our connection might have been friendly, or even sexual, but no, it wasn’t those things. It was a moment, he kept saying, about role models and fatherhood, and how we could learn from each other.
Before this emotional exchange during which the three women at the table are sitting silently, and I’m acutely aware of the awwws in Heather’s throat; I could see from the eye in my ear the happyproud look in her eye she makes when…
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