She smiles at her feet. “You know, it’s silly. When you mentioned a girlfriend on your first day here, well,” she laughs, “at the risk of sounding entirely ridiculous—the old lesbian that I am—I thought you simply meant a friend that was a girl.” I can’t help it. The laugh that escapes me is a shocked, obnoxious thing. Half snorting, half disbelief. And it goes on for way too long before I manage to contain it. “Is it that silly of me?” She tilts her head, looking at me conspicuously.
