"You're good at giving presents," I remind him. "I have reason to be
excited."
I stand when he does, grabbing the plates and setting them in the sink
before he can protest. He's standing in the middle of the living room with
a glass of wine and I join him, looking around curiously. "How many are
there?"
There's one right behind me in the dining area that somehow escaped my
attention in the pleasant onslaught of both an affectionate Bittle and
food. I look at him suspiciously and go over to it, carefully pulling off
the wrapping that covers the frame. Somehow I'm still surprised to find one
of my own photos there, one of my favorites of some baby ducks by the pond
in the park.
"Bits," I say quietly, swallowing hard and studying the way that the
photo looks in the elegant frame. The fact that Bittle finds my photography
good enough to decorate our home with is gift enough, and my expression is
reverent as I reach up to rest my fingertips at the bottom of the frame.
"Wow."
no subject
"You're good at giving presents," I remind him. "I have reason to be excited."
I stand when he does, grabbing the plates and setting them in the sink before he can protest. He's standing in the middle of the living room with a glass of wine and I join him, looking around curiously. "How many are there?"
There's one right behind me in the dining area that somehow escaped my attention in the pleasant onslaught of both an affectionate Bittle and food. I look at him suspiciously and go over to it, carefully pulling off the wrapping that covers the frame. Somehow I'm still surprised to find one of my own photos there, one of my favorites of some baby ducks by the pond in the park.
"Bits," I say quietly, swallowing hard and studying the way that the photo looks in the elegant frame. The fact that Bittle finds my photography good enough to decorate our home with is gift enough, and my expression is reverent as I reach up to rest my fingertips at the bottom of the frame. "Wow."