Brown doesn’t do them justice. They’re the color of the Earth after a good rain. Sunlight through a bottle of whiskey. A honeyed glow that adds sweetness to her gaze, even when sharp and focused. They’re gingerbread men that remind me of Christmas with Nan, and more comforting than a mug of Claude’s hot chocolate. “Out of all the words someone could use to describe you, Eddie, not a single one would ever be normal or boring.”
