the light poured from the corner of the house five or six feet away from the picnic table bathing it in a yellow glow.
in the dark of night faces shown clearly as i moved behind you to feel your shoulders in my hands.
"sit here, please," said his father as he moved in a singular motion from your side on the bench next to his son.
i explained i'd have plenty of sitting to do on the ride home. additionally, i get to sit next to you all the time.
i turned to the man's son and told him how proud i was of him. it was obviously the most minimal comment i could make, maybe a little obvious too but, i mean every syllable as i uttered it. i knew he could tell as he hugged me in response.
while i stood behind you he paid me the same compliment he gave me not too long ago on another intoxicated warm night.
his father agreed, a man i've met twice, that you had a good woman. i think i grabbed your shoulders again, pressing my fingers in softly (a novice at massage anyhow), attempting to keep busy to hide my embarrassment and appreciation.
in that warm glow at the table i'm not sure you even heard them speaking, your face forward.
both times he's told me though all i wish is that you agree.