Trust Me

Trust Me

“Andrew dear, why didn’t you ever get your ears pierced?” I looked up, astonished. My wife was perched comfortably in our big easy chair, her nest most evenings when she wasn’t out selling a client some building, her legs curled up under her, reading one of her magazines, all as usual. She was gazing at me casually with a mixture of curiosity and mild concern, as if the question had just occurred to her, and the answer didn’t much matter, but it might, and she figured she’d ask before returning to her story, or article, or whatever.


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