“Oscar-sweetums, let me tell you something: The first time I fell in love, I got blisters,” and then, with a leopard-print scarf whipping wildly around her head, she started rooting around in her purse for her keys, or a tissue, or a mint, or her little vial of vanilla oil before she continued. “Yep, after that I went a lot slower.”
“Til you met dad?”
“Til I met your daddy. Luckily, he was really smooth.”
Oscar blushed and looked down at his feet and thought, I’ve had these feet for longer than some people have tires on their cars.
