““It’s me, not you.” She turned to him, urging him with her eyes to go along with her. “Everybody else thinks you’re fabulous, so it has to be me, right? Nobody else seems to find you just a little bit . . . creepy.” He cocked an eyebrow. Francesca swelled up in her chair. “Did you just call my son ‘creepy’?” Ted spooned up another bite of chocolate, interested in what else she’d come up with. He wasn’t going to help at all. She wanted to kiss him, yell at him. Instead, she returned her attention to the women. “Be honest.” Her voice gained strength with the rightness of what she was doing. “You all know what I mean. The way the birds start to sing when he walks outside. That’s creepy, right? And those halos that keep popping up around his head?””
