“I understand. What do you like?” A head tilt and pursed lips show me she is thinking about my question. “Food. Laughs. Movies on my couch.” “I can do that. I’ll cook for you,” I offer, pleased at her response. I was frazzled by the notion she may prefer upscale restaurants, limousine rides, and lavish gifts. But as my eyes case Sydney in her grungy tank top, a black beanie hiding her wild hair, and a crusted paint stain still spotting her collarbone… I know she is not that kind of woman.
