Page 81 of Fathers of the Bride
Something occurred to me, so I asked, “Where does Kelly think you are this morning?”
“Weight Watchers.”
“You’re going to Weight Watchers?”
“God, no. But what else could I tell her? That I was going to the gym? She’d want to go with me.”
“Well, yes, I suppose a diet is a more plausible excuse. I mean, not that you need to—”
“Oh, shut up. Of course, I need to go on a diet. Andy—”
“What?”
“What are we doing about the house?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we put a second mortgage on it to pay for the wedding. We assumed we’d be selling it. What if—” He stopped, uncomfortable even saying it. So, I did.
“If we’re back together then we don’t want to sell the house.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” I said.
“The Safferts still want to buy the lowest terrace to put in a tennis court.”
“I’d rather not sell it.”
“We hardly use it. And there’s no view down there.”
“Maybe I want a tennis court.”
“You don’t.”
“I don’t now, but I might someday.”
“Keep it in mind, dear.”
But I was beginning to have other ideas. Better ones.
“Oh,” Miles said. “The string quartet will play Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D Major’ as Kelly comes down the aisle.” There was a huge smile on his face.
“Just like we did,” I supplied.
“Both times.”
We’d finished our pastries. Well, the brownies. The scone really wasn’t as good as Miles’. Maybe if I’d never had a decent scone I might have enjoyed it.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you at four,” Miles said, standing up. “Do you know where this place is?”
“You emailed me.”
“Good.”
I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He bristled and stepped back. I said, “Sweetheart, it’s Los Angeles in the twenty-first century. I can kiss my husband in public.”
“Oh, you’re right, of course. That was a Pavlovian response.” He stepped forward and kissed me on the lips—very quickly. “There. Better?”
