Page 60 of Four Weddings to Fall in Love
Chapter 23
Max
Tomydismay,whenI wake up on Saturday, The Weather Network is calling for rain in the afternoon.Even if it’s done raining by six o’clock, what if the patio furniture is wet and we can’t sit there?
I tell myself it’s not the end of the world.We can eat inside; the food will still be good.
But I’m annoyed that things aren’t going as planned.I’ve never been one of those people who’s amazing at going with the flow.
I leave my apartment with lots of time to spare, taking my large black umbrella with me.I put on my face mask before getting on the subway.
When I reach Christie, it’s raining.I stand inside as I wait for my date, trying not to scowl too hard at the weather.
“Hey!”
I startle at Kim’s voice.
“Sorry,” she says.“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” I mumble.I should have been prepared.I was, after all, waiting for her.
She’s wearing dark jeans today.Her ass looks very nice in them, and as she walks out the door of the station, I have an excellent view of it.I suspect that’s why she made a point of exiting before me.
I clear my throat and step outside behind her.
“Did you bring your shark umbrella?”I ask.
“No, I returned it to its rightful owner.”
I open up my umbrella.“We can share.”
The umbrella is a decent size, but if we’re both going to remain dry on the walk to College, she’ll have to stay quite close to me.It seems silly to be mildly excited about sharing an umbrella, yet I am.
“I apologize in advance,” I say.“I selected this restaurant for the patio, and…” I hold one hand outside the umbrella, and rain falls on my palm.
“That’s okay.I don’t fault you for being unable to control the weather.”
“When I looked at the forecast on Thursday, there was no rain.”
“Max,” she says gently.“Really, it’s fine.”
I nod briskly and shut my month.I’ll try not to worry more than I already have.There isn’t a downpour, nor is there any lightning—it could be worse.
“It reminds me of an episode ofChu’s Restaurant,” she says, naming a Canadian sitcom that’s been on for a few years, “when…have you seen it?”
“No.I don’t like sitcoms.”
“Really?”
I wonder if this is equivalent to saying that I hate baby goats.May need to research this later.Perhaps it’s a faux pas.
“Is it because you don’t like anything fun?”she asks.
“As I believe I’ve shown you, I do enjoyfun,” I say, in an excessively serious voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I narrow my eyes.“Yes, you do.”
