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[yilaiwl6879]

n threatening all morning finally breaks and I
have to push Grayer back up to 721 Park Avenue as if I’m in the Stroller Olympics.
“Weeeeeeee!” he cries and I make race-car noises and steer sharply around puddles all the way
home. By the time we get into the lobby we’re both soaked and I pray Mrs. X isn’t home to see
how I’ve exposed her child to pneumonia.
“I sure am wet. Are you wetGrayer?”
“I sure am. I sure am wet.” He’s smilingbut his teeth are starting to chatter.
“We’re gonna get you right upstairs and into a hot bath. Ever had lunch in the bathGrayer?” I steer
him into the elevator.
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“Wait You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login! Hold it!” a male voice shouts from around the corner.
I slam the stroller into my ankle trying to angle it away from the door. “Owsh-oot You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login!”
“Heythanks” he says. I look up from my ankle. The rain has plastered his brownchin-length hair
and frayed blue T-shirt to his six-foot frame. Ohmy.
As the elevator closes he crouches down to speak directly to the stroller. “HeyGrayer You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login! Whassup?”
“She’s wet.” Grayer points behind him.
“Hiwet girl. Are you Grayer’s girlfriend?” He smiles at metucking his damp hair behind his ear.
“He’s not sure if he’s ready to make thyilai：
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