Anyway, I’m just saying you’re complaining an awful lot about him if you really don’t like him. So you probably do.’ ‘That’s silly. He’s...just a guy.’ ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’ ‘Stop that. He took you to see Hamlet?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘What a nerd.’ ‘Well, yes. But so what? It’s my favorite Shakespeare.’ ‘So what’s with this ice cube thing?’ I asked. ‘Oh, no. It’s not my place to tell you. If you ever manage to convince him to see you again, and what is this, your third strike, maybe. She had no clue whether he liked cinnamon buns, but thought it was a good possibility. At any rate, she loved them. As she waited, she suddenly realized that she had been in the best mood she could remember. That was puzzling. Why would acting like a housewife make her happy? Some sort of bio-engineering perhaps? She knew she would never be happy just cleaning and cooking… but if there was art too… It was a possibility. The shocking thing was, that particular possibility had never occurred to. More

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