Night at the Philharmonic.

he sent flowers to the office - for me and baby girl, from our guys (him, the toddler, the bulldog). we met for Italian food in Midtown, feasted on beet gnocchi with truffle sauce and chicken parm. we walked up ten blocks to Lincoln Center for a night of violins and cellos: Wagner at the Philharmonic. then took the long way up Central Park West, through the lamp-lit Sheep Meadow, past Bethesda Terrace.

us at 15 and 17: him slipping notes in my violin case.
us at 28 and 30: him with his hand on my belly, stirring at the sound of strings in Lincoln Square.

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