I licked sweet orange pulp from my upper lip, dabbed a napkin against the same area, and said, “Oh, I never get bored around here. But If I do, you’ll be the first one I’ll visit.” I paused, watched him exit the sink area. “Off you go. Poolside, Mr. Pool Boy.”
He headed out of the kitchen. “I need to get in my suit first. The rays are hot this morning. A natural tan is calling me.”
“Don’t overdo it with the sun. But you probably know that already.”
“I do. Thanks for caring.”
As he walked out of the room, in search of his navy suit and summery, yellow towel, two articles of material that he would use most of that summer, I wished that he had stayed seated in the kitchen with me at the island, keeping me company, talking about his life, listening to the tales of my life, and gently rubbing our calves together like lovers or boyfriends…rubbing and rubbing and rubbing.14: Binoculars