We played Scrabble, and I trounced him—twice. Wordkub? Same thing. Rummikub? Forget it. By the time we got to Tri-Ominos, Bruce was desperate for a win.
“You cannot be this good at everything. I gotta win sometime.” Unfortunately, he was wrong.
I watched him pout for a few minutes. “I did warn you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He wasn’t down for long, though. Soon he was laughing at some of the stories I told him about growing up an only child and my parents’ eccentric behavior.
“Wow, it sounds like you had a unique childhood.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Now they’re touring Europe and posting pics and comments on f*******:. It’s a riot.”
Bruce smiled. “I bet. My dad works in Finance, and Mom’s a pediatrician. They’re laid back. My twin sisters live in Maine, running a bed and breakfast. They
