In Five Years by Rebecca Serle EPUB & PDF

In Five Years by Rebecca Serle EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  •  Authors: Rebecca Serle
  •  Publish Date: March 10, 2020
  •  Language: English
  •  Genre: Literature, Fiction, American Literature
  •  Format: PDF/ePub
  •  Size: 2 MB
  •  Pages: 272
  •  Price: Free
  •  ISBN: 978-1982137441

Twenty-five. That’s the number I count to every morning
before I even open my eyes. It’s a meditative calming
technique that helps your brain with memory, focus, and
attention, but the real reason I do it is because that’s how long
it takes my boyfriend, David, to get out of bed next to me and
flip the coffee maker on, and for me to smell the beans.

Thirty-six. That’s how many minutes it takes me to brush
my teeth, shower, and put on face toner, serum, cream,
makeup, and a suit for work. If I wash my hair, it’s forty-three.
Eighteen. That’s the walk to work in minutes from our
Murray Hill apartment to East Forty-Seventh Street, where the
law offices of Sutter, Boyt and Barn are located.

Twenty. That’s how many months I believe you should be
dating someone before you move in with them.
Twenty-eight. The right age to get engaged.
Thirty. The right age to get married.
My name is Dannie Kohan. And I believe in living by
numbers.

“Happy Interview Day,” David says when I walk into the
kitchen. Today. December 15. I’m wearing a bathrobe, hair
spun up into a towel. He’s still in his pajamas, and his brown
hair has a significant amount of salt and pepper for someone
who has not yet crossed thirty, but I like it. It makes him look
dignified, particularly when he wears glasses, which he often
does.

“Thank you,” I say. I wrap my arms around him, kiss his
neck and then his lips. I’ve already brushed my teeth, but
David never has morning breath. Ever. When we first started
dating, I thought he was getting up out of bed before me to
swoosh some toothpaste in there, but when we moved in
together, I realized it’s just his natural state. He wakes up that
way. The same cannot be said for me.

“Coffee is ready.”
He squints at me, and my heart tugs at the look on his face,
the way it scrunches all up when he’s trying to pay attention
but doesn’t have his contacts in yet.
He takes a mug down and then pours. I go to the
refrigerator, and when he hands me the cup, I add a dollop of
creamer. Coffee Mate, hazelnut. David thinks it’s sacrilegious
but he buys it, to indulge me. This is the kind of man he is.

Judgmental, and generous.
I take the coffee cup and go sit in our kitchen nook that
overlooks Third Avenue. Murray Hill isn’t the most glamorous
neighborhood in New York, and it gets a bad rap (every Jewish
fraternity and sorority kid in the Tri-State area moves here
after graduation.

The average street style is a Penn sweatshirt),
but there’s nowhere else in the city where we’d be able to
afford a two-bedroom with a full kitchen in a doorman
building, and between the two of us, we make more money
than a pair of twenty-eight-year-olds has any right to.

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