A Crush Since Day 1
In 1997 I wanted a new tax guy. I was referred to Mike. He had a great smile, and I immediately crushed hard. Each year I’d offer up a new persona to get his attention: The damsel in financial distress. The rising PR exec who catered on the side and could cook. Nothing worked; Mike was all business. Fast forward to 2005. At his suggestion, we meet for a drink. Four drinks in, I say, “Can I tell you a secret? I’ve had a crush on you since Day 1.” We just celebrated our 15-year wedding anniversary. — Debra Jack
Horror Films and Poetry Readings
“If you met Mary today, would you still choose her?” a friend asked. “Of course,” I replied. I felt indignant at the question, yet knew why it had been asked. Mary and I are nothing alike. Mary hails from Puerto Rico and is a former nun; I’m from Brooklyn and light Shabbat candles every Friday night. Mary enjoys horror films; I enjoy poetry readings. Last night Mary ate pork chops for supper; I feasted on tofu. So why did I choose her? Thirty-six years ago, I looked into her eyes and saw nothing but kindness. I still do. — Lesléa Newman
The Whole Egg
My Nana doesn’t like egg whites, but she eats the whole egg anyway. “Why?” I asked one morning as Nana’s lips puckered in distaste. I watched her chew the soft edge of her sunny-side-up egg. “Just put them in the compost, Nana,” I advised. She smiled. “June always liked the whites,” Nana said, and I finally understood. June was her best friend, with whom she split every egg. Now that June’s memory is fading and they live too far away to meet in person, Nana eats the whole egg. That’s the kind of friendship that lasts longer than a lifetime.— Berkeley Thompson
Switching to Winter Tires
Dad calls to ask about my car. How long since I had an oil change? Steering still acting up? Brakes work OK? He knows I’m not interested in cars like he is. That I wouldn’t think about any of this unless he called. He doesn’t ask me how I’m doing, but he reminds me that I need to switch to winter tires before December hits. “Don’t forget,” he says, then hangs up. He doesn’t say anything affectionate, because that’s not how he was brought up. But he doesn’t have to. I know it’s not really the car he cares about. — George Nevgodovskyy
