“I’ve never done this before.” “Done what?” He stared at me for a moment. “I brought you dinner.” “What?” “It’s a picnic.” He dug into the box. “Here is the wine.” He pulled out a bottle of white. “You brought me a picnic?” “Yes.” That day on the plane, I had told Max that the Baby Men brought me picnics. And he had scoffed. Now he was here, looking slightly unsure of himself. “I thought you didn’t do this kind of stuff?” “I don’t.” Which made this even more meaningful.
