““Did you fall off a tree when you were a kid?” I ask. “Get pushed off a bridge?” “What?” he asks, momentarily distracted. “No, why?” “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I just thought that might be why you’re afraid of heights.” “Always the writer,” he softly laughs. “Nothing as dramatic as that. I just don’t like them, never have.” “But there has to be a reason,” I say. “I mean, no one is really comfortable with heights, but to beafraid of them− something had to have happened.” “Did you ever get attacked by a herd of spiders when you were a kid?” he asks, raising one of his eyebrows in my direction. “Because I seem to remember finding you on a chair not too long ago, calling me and screaming that I have to come over because a daddy long legs was ‘eyeing you for lunch’.” “That’s different,” I say, sitting up a little straighter.””
