At A Restaurant Dinner, My Family Asked Me To Sign Something I Was Not Expecting

my hand once across the table.

“Thank you,” I said. “So do you.”

Marcus offered his hand and introduced himself as if we’d never met, which we had, twice, briefly, in contexts that apparently hadn’t been significant enough for him to retain. I shook it. He had a good handshake, firm and brief, the kind that says I’ve thought about this handshake. I didn’t continue reading …