I couldn’t believe it. They’d been dating, like, two minutes. But listening to him go on and on, babbling like a brook, his excitement was so contagious that I found myself laughing right along with him.
“And we’re getting married! I mean, I already had the ring, so it was just a matter of time, really, and when she told me, I passed out—can you believe that?”
I could, actually. Once when we were kids, he passed out from excitement when he got to go on the Jurassic Park ride at Universal. All those dinosaurs, it was just too much for him. I smiled just thinking about it.
I came back from my memories to hear him say, “So when I came to, I just asked her to marry me and she said yes!”
“Clark, breathe, honey, breathe,” I said. “That’s fantastic news, all of it. I’m so happy for you! Congratulations! So give me all the details.”
And as he told me all about how far along she was (not far) and what their plans were (they’d get married after the baby came; she wanted a big wedding back home in Philadelphia) and how at first her brothers were planning to come out to kick his ass (all five of them) until she convinced them what a terrible idea that was, I listened and laughed along with him. After we got off the phone, I looked down at my to-do list and realized I’d doodled right over everything I’d been working on. And I’d doodled several versions of cribs, rattles, and a stick figure family.
Christ, if I’d gotten married, I could have been pregnant already. Charles wanted a family right away. And I did too . . . I’m pretty sure I did. That was the plan, anyway, and I was all for the plan, right? Wait, I wanted kids, right? What the hell kind of a woman wasn’t sure she wanted kids but would probably have had them anyway?
As I was contemplating my doodles, my phone rang again. It was the ginger vet this time.
“Hey,” I said in greeting.
“Hey to you too; how was your trip?”
“Good, just got back this afternoon. They got so much done while I was gone; you should see the place.”
“Great, when I pick you up in the morning you can show me what’s new.”
“In the morning?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, nights and weekends, remember? Tomorrow I get to start showing you the best Monterey has to offer.”
“The best Monterey has to offer? What are you, working for the tourism board?”
“Yes, exactly that. So throw all your cares away and enjoy Monterey,” he said, game show voice style.
“Well now, that’s just creepy,” I said with a laugh. “What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise, but you’ll get wet, so wear a bathing suit, please.”
“A bathing suit?”
“Notice I said please. Something really skimpy and preferably see through.”
“Lucas!”
“Kidding. Not kidding,” he deadpanned.
“Lucas,” I warned once more.
“Okay, suit is a definite, skimpy is optional.”
“Uh-huh, thanks,” I said, wondering what he was up to.
“Pick you up at eight. Bring a change of clothes too.”
“Okay, bossy. And mysterious. You’re being bossy and mysterious,” I said.
“And cute. You forgot cute,” he prompted.
“I can’t see you. How do I know you’re cute?” I teased.
“Oh, you know I am,” he insisted
I blew him a raspberry, and hung up listening to him laugh.
Smiling, I laid back in my lawn chair and looked up at the night sky. This high up in the hills, it was so clear that you could see thousands of stars. After mentally going through my bathing suits—which were mostly skimpy, let’s face it—I got up to head inside for a good night’s sleep. Eight o’clock would come early. As I picked up my doodled to-do list, I noticed that on the bottom I’d written Lucas. On my to-do list.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” I muttered to myself. Still smiling.
“Paddleboarding? This is why you wanted me to wear my bathing suit?” I exclaimed as he pulled up the next morning and I saw what was stowed in the back of his truck.
“Hello to you too,” he said in response, jumping out of his side.
“Sorry. Hello,” I allowed, then went back to my earlier greeting. “Paddleboarding?”
“What’s wrong with paddleboarding?” he asking, walking around the front of the truck. Long black swim trunks, old surfing T-shirt, unzipped fleece—he was ready for a day on the water. With those legs of his that were tanned and oh so long. He really was a tall drink of water.
“Nothing,” I said to his legs, then forced my eyes toward his face. What a hardship that was. “I’ve just never tried it. I thought we were going to spend the day lazing around a pool somewhere. Like the one I happen to have here . . . the water’s warm, drinks nearby . . .” I gulped nervously. “No sharks.”