“Your Kids Can Eat at Home,” My Dad Said—So When the Waiter Returned, I Stood Up – The Archivist

”

Heat rose in my face. “I’m thirty-four,” I said.

“Of course,” she said quickly. “But it’s good you’re putting yourself out there again.” Her eyes slid over Alexander. “Even if it doesn’t turn into anything serious, at least you’re having fun, right?”

The implication hung there, taut: He’s a fling. He’s not a fiancé. He’s not an Italian destination continue reading …