Context, context was everything. ‘Yes I am.’ ‘So you were married to her Mom before you met mommy?’ ‘No, and that’s enough sweetie, fin...sh your pancakes.’ Context. Context is everything. She had one more question though. ‘I thought you said you and Mommy met in school?’ ‘We did, we met when we were just a little older than Liz is now. We were just kids. Now. Eat your pancakes.’ I headed upstairs. Wife first. I opened the door to our bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, crying. Or at. I think it'll work. First of all, save a little room, here, in this restaurant, for dessert. We won't be having dessert here. We'll go to another place I found."Alice dutifully watched what she had for dinner. She likely would have anyway, without being told by me. I consumed my usual bounty, but I knew what I was capable of, dessert-wise, and didn't worry about it. We had a pleasant, routine time at the restaurant. I wasn't trying to impress her. I'd decided, long ago, not to try to impress. More

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