Even later that day…
I picked Kevin up in the city with his cardboard sign. He looked helpless and alluring in the snow, posted at the familiar stop sign on Lincoln. I felt invested to help him, took him home again for a shower and shave. I wanted to feed him again, kiss him, hold him, make love to him.
I was obviously caught up in my strange attraction for him. Confused. Mentally dismantled and challenged.
Once back at my Cape Cod, he asked me to join him in the shower. I didn’t shower with him, though, giving him the space he probably needed, away from me. Instead, I called Melot, a French restaurant, and asked for two seats next to the lake for dinner. A snippy youth told me tables were filled through January. The call ended rather abruptly on her end of the line, and I was hung up o
