“Uh, thank you for sharing,” Nacho says, clearing his throat.
Levy is next. “My good thing is I started writing lessons at the community center. I appreciate that the guy giving the writing lessons is a hot silver fox.” He leers, then admits, “Even though he is married.”
Levy has athingfor silver foxes.
“And I am leaving behind my resentment that Ant took the last of the chocolate milk and didn’t write it on the grocery list.”
Ant grimaces. “Sorry.”
Levy sends him a wink. “No problem, little brother.”
“Thank you for sharing,” we all say, Nacho joining us this time.
My offering is next. “I had a breakthrough with a patient this week. I appreciate her willingness to work so hard even though we had to cover some really tough ground.”
Ant and Levy glance at Biyu, correctly guessing the patient I am speaking of.
“And I am leaving behind the desire to murder the person responsible for her pain.”
A nervous laugh goes around the room, but they say to me, “Thank you for sharing.”
“Damn,” Nacho says, laughing. “I thought therapists were supposed to be neutral.”
Levy and I share a look and laugh.
Levy explains, “We’re supposed to appear neutral for our clients, but we can feel however we’re gonna feel.”
“Gotcha.”
Nacho’s eyes catch mine for a split second before he looks away.
“Okay, Nacho. It’s your turn if you’re comfortable.”
“Thank you, uh, Bram,” he says, clearing his throat. “Um, my good thing is that I got invited to this dinner. I appreciate being included, and I am leaving behind the fact that Topo Chico is not the same as beer.”
A gentle laugh goes around the table, and Nacho flushes when we say, “Thank you for sharing.”
I will email Biyu’s translator with each of our three things at the end of the evening, and I make a note to include Nacho’s three things too.
I lean into him a little. “Was that okay?”
He looks around the table. “Yeah. This is…this is amazing. I had never heard of this kind of dinner before you invited me.”
“You’re welcome to join us every Friday.”
He flushes again. “I’d like that.”
I go around the table and pour the wine and the sparkling grape for Nacho. We toast to setting down our responsibilities and resting, then I slice the chicken as everyone sits. I serve Levy the quarter leg and Ant a wing and half a chicken breast, with Biyu getting the other half.
Looking at Nacho, I ask, “What part of the chicken do you like?”
“Uhh…I kind of like everything. Just get what you like, and I’ll take whatever’s left.”
“That wasn’t the question, Nacho. Tell me what part of the chicken you would like.”
“Um,” he blinks, and I’m grateful Ant and Levy don’t notice the tension between us. Biyu, however, spares us a quick glance.
“Yes?”
