Page 38 of Enemies to Lobsters
“That’s okay. You can still make it. It doesn’t start for ten minutes.” CEO Louise isn’t letting me off the hook, and she shouldn’t.
Boone needs my face in the audience. I promised him I’d be there to watch him play the lamppost in Cape Georgeana Community Youth Theater’s production ofThe Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I encouraged Louise to let him be part of the play even though she had reservations. I talked the director intoinventing a safe role for Boone. I drove him to a few summer rehearsals when Louise couldn’t. But then I got preoccupied—as in, I got married and moved onto a tidal island. Things have been busy.
But I can’t miss this play. I also can’t mess up this date.
“Louise, actually I have—”
“We’re saving a seat for you, okay? See you in a few.” The line goes dead.
I curse under my breath.
“Boone is the kid you take out for sandwiches?” Diana asks quietly.
“Yeah. But he’ll be fine.” That’s a lie. The kid needs predictability, and he’s expecting me to be there. He might be fine if I no-show. Or, from what Louise and I have seen, he might shut down, walk off the stage, or slap someone.
“We should go.” Diana nods, her crystal blue eyes sincere. “It’s a play? I’d love that. I’m a New Yorker, remember?” She’s going way too easy on me.
I shake my head. “Boone will be okay. And this isn’t Broadway. It's a community kids’ theater in the high school auditorium. Tonight was supposed to be just us. I wanted this to be—” I cut off when she pulls my hand away from the knot I’m kneading on my shoulder. I hold my breath as her delicate fingers work at the tense spot. I bet she’s watched me work at this muscle every day that we’ve been married.
Her voice is quiet. “You can’t be everything for everyone at all times, Ike. You don’t need to make everything perfect, and I don’t want it to be, okay?” She squeezes my shoulder again. She has no idea how dangerous that little move is. Then she turns to teasing. “Who knows what you had planned, anyway? The play will probably be better. Let’s go.”
I search her eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret. There’s nothing there but sincerity and that same bright blue that makes my pulse jump. Every. Dang. Time.
The tension in my permanently tight shoulder starts to loosen. I can’t believe she’s being so easygoing about this. No one in a fifty mile radius would’ve let me off the hook so quickly. In fact, Muffie Horowitz is waiting for me to chase the seagulls off her property as we speak. And it only makes me want to give Diana more—to do more for her.
I put my hand over hers, holding it against my shoulder. “Thank you.” I have plenty more to say, but I don’t want to say too much. “Are you ready for this?”
She only nods, her dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks.
“That’s good, because we’re about to hard launch this marriage in front of the whole town.”
Chapter 19
Diana
Hard launch. Those words are pinging around in my head as Ike drives to Cape Georgeana High School.
What was I thinking, agreeing to this? I’ve never been publicly flogged before, but I think it's about to happen, and I bet it's going to hurt. I practice my box breathing and dry my clammy palms on my jeans as Ike signals into the parking lot.
“You nervous?”
I snort. “Is it that obvious?”
He throws his truck into park and turns to face me. “Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth hitching into a crooked grin that only adds butterflies to my already unsettled stomach. His eyes turn serious. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t, I’ll give them five reasons to love you.”
I’m sorry, what? The dread stops churning in my stomach. Now there’s just that swarm of butterflies bumping around in there, wondering what reasons Ike would give the people of this town. “Like what?” My voice is too breathy. Something about being parked in the high school parking lot in Ike’s truck makes me feel fifteen years younger, like I’m having an experience I should’ve had a long time ago. I’m nervous, giddy, and out ofbreath. I’m being way too obvious, but I don’t care. None of this feels real. “What reasons?”
His crooked grin only grows when he holds up his hand, curling his fingers down one at a time and counting to five until his hand forms a fist. “Five reasons.”
He’s joking, but someone needs to tell that to the stupid butterflies in my stomach. It’s like spring break at Daytona Beach in there.
“Oh, brother.” I swat at his fist, if only for an excuse to touch his hand. I’m developing an obsession with the man’s tan, strong, veiny hands. Plus, he wears this old watch with a large dial that is just—
I sigh.
If I’m being accused of stuff either way, I might as well go all-in on the weirdo behavior, right? Something just occurred to me, though. “Ike, we’ve never talked about how we’re supposed to act in public.” Because I never planned on being in public with him.
“What’s there to talk about?” He’s already opening his door. “It’s about to start. Let’s figure this out on the way inside.”
