liked playing hard to get. Then she found out she was pregnant with me and he got down on one knee in the bathroom and she smiled and said yes.” I really like that moment. I know I wasn’t there, but the memory I’ve created in my head over the years is crystal clear. I don’t know exactly what that bathroom looked like, since it was in their first, shoebox-sized apartment, but Dad always commented on how the walls were a muted gold, which I always took to mean aged yellow, and he said the floor tiles were checkered. And then there’s my mother, who comes alive for me in his stories. In this
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