What I find in the kitchen—to my surprise—is Archie at the kitchen island, his bare back to me. He’s in his usual day wear of board shorts and nothing else, except a full apron. And, yeah, it’s been a few days, but it doesn’t take much to reignite the image of his little towel-dropping antic. Especially when his shorts sit just below his waist, clinging to his hips for dear life, so when he crouches down to get a pan from a lower cabinet, I hold my breath until he stands back up and his shorts stay with him.
