I put Taylor through hell over this bullshit with Kai. The only thing I’m worried about now is giving her a perfect birthday. I know she’s never had a serious boyfriend before, and I’m taking that to mean all the usual clichés are still new to her. That means flowers. An obnoxious number of flowers. An ecological massacre of flowers. At the florist in Hastings, I try to relay this request, which for some reason is more difficult than I expected.
