Pin by Andrew Neiderman

talents.”
    â€œShe told me you were quite a cook too.”
    â€œI’ve had plenty of practice. Pin, too, is a great cook,” I added. “He knows quite a few recipes. He’s quite the gourmet.”
    â€œCan’t wait to meet him,” he said, and I noticed the first signs of nervousness in his face.
    â€œHe’s right in there,” I said, indicating the living room. My heart began beating fast, just as it always did right before someone new met Pin. I moved a little faster than Stan did because I wanted to be standing beside Pin when they met. I wanted to see the expression on Stan’s face. “Right over in the corner in that chair.”
    â€œRight,” he said, moving across the room. The limp became more pronounced. As we approached, I flicked on the little lamp just to the right of Pin. His face came alive.
    â€œPin,” I said, “this is Ursula’s friend Stan. Stan, this is our lifelong friend and companion, Pin,” I added, and turned quickly to see Stan’s face. He smiled and shot a glance at me. I must’ve looked very serious because his face snapped into a serious expression. There was a moment of silence during which Stan’s face seemed to tighten and then relax. He straightened up as if he were being presented to one of his old officers and then shot his hand out so fast it took me by surprise. I stepped back.
    â€œIt’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said. Pin was surprised too. He didn’t even lift his hand to shake. But Stan thrust his out so fast and so hard that he was only inches away. Then he had the nerve, the audacity, to push his hand into Pin’s. Naturally, Pin,being the gentleman he is, shook and disregarded Stan’s aggressiveness. “I have heard a great deal about you, a great deal.” When he let go, Pin’s hand dropped to his lap. I stood looking at Stanley and feeling a great sense of disappointment and anger settle over me. His reaction to Pin was a letdown. He was at ease with him, almost as much at ease as Ursula and I were. He was as nonchalant as could be. I watched him back up a few steps and look around the room. “Very nice, big room. You don’t see many houses with these tall ceilings anymore.”
    â€œPin,” I said, keeping my eyes on Stanley as I talked, “Stan has brought some assorted chocolates. After dinner, we can come in and have a few.”
    Stanley turned and smiled. Then he limped to one of the big chairs and settled himself in it. I was fascinated with his poise. Pin eyed the chocolates greedily. It made me laugh.
    â€œHe’d like to skip dinner and have them now, wouldn’t you, Pin?”
    â€œI can wait, Leon. I have a great deal of self-control.”
    â€œWe can’t permit that,” Stanley said. Then he leaned over toward us. “We can’t do anything to spoil Ursula’s dinner, now, can we? For a woman, a dinner is like a performance,” he said, sitting back again. He was right at home.
    â€œShe oughta perform more often then,” I said. It was a bit cruel and I regretted saying it immediately. “But I’m sure she’ll do well.”
    â€œUrsula tells me that you’re working on an epic poem.”
    â€œShe did?” I wasn’t sure whether I felt indignant or proud.
    â€œI’d like to read some of it sometime.”
    â€œMaybe Leon’ll read some of it after dinner,” Pin said.
    â€œYes. Perhaps, if we’re all in the mood, I will read a little of it after dinner.”
    â€œI’ve always wanted to sit down and write something, but I’ve just lacked the patience. I admire you for having the discipline.”
    â€œYes, it takes discipline. It’s far from finished and it has a lot of rough spots.”
    â€œDon’t be so modest, Leon,” Pin said. “You know you’ve worked some of those lines over twenty or thirty times.”
    â€œI bet