“Nana says you’re supposed to bring a lady flowers. I’m not sure why. They smell pretty, but then they die, and you have to throw them in the trash, but she said you have to, so I did.” “Well,” I say through a laugh, “they do die, but they also make the lady feel awfully special.” I cup the side of his face. “Where exactly would you like to take me on this date of yours?” “I was wondering if you’d go to a picnic with me.”
