"Find a man who doesn't love a nice, plump ass," Brother Thomas said, with a solemn nod, "And, I'll show you a fool. As for numb hands..."
He picked up his ice cream. Shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's no fault of mine you didn't bother with gloves, this time of the year. It gets cold, you know."
And, yes. The bench was dry, especially for her.
He took another bite of his ice cream, as he leaned back a bit. The smile softened a bit as he looked up at the clear sky.
"How has your year been, Twinkletoes?" he asked. He slowly turned his head towards her. Watching her. Observing. Seeing what had changed, what had stayed the same.