“Is this a concert?” My question has an obvious answer from the guy breaking into song, strumming his guitar while his band plays behind him. “I don’t have any idea if this guy is good. Or if the later band is either, but you said you never get to go to concerts as a fan and missed it.” With my mouth agape, I turn toward Ford. “You brought me to a concert.” My throat is scratchy. My eyes prickly with happy tears. “This is so . . .” Thoughtful. Romantic. Special.
