I blink at him.
“Sorry,” he says. “But I understand the point.”
“Why are we outside?” I reach for my drink. It’s miraculously still cold, even though the ice has almost melted entirely.
“Because we never get any fresh air.”
“This is hardly fresh,” I say. “Do the summers keep getting worse?”
“Yes.”
“I’m too hot to even eat.”
“Good,” he says. “Because the food was a ruse.”
He drops a calendar book down on the table between us.
“What is this?”
“It’s a planner,” he says. “Dates, times, numbers. We need to start getting organized about this thing.”
“The wedding?”
“Yes,” he says. “The wedding. Unless we start making phone calls, everything is going to be booked. They are already. We’re too tired at night to talk about it, and this is how we got four years down the line.”
“And a half,” I remind him.
“Right,” he says. “And a half.”
He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head at me.
“We need a human planner,” I say.
“Yes, but we needed to plan to even get a planner. A lot of the top people book up two years in advance.”
“I know,” I say. “I know.”
“I’m not saying this is like, your area—” David says. “But I think we should do it together. I’d like that. If you want.”
“Of course,” I say. “I’d love that.”
This is how badly David wants to marry me. He’ll take his lunch hour to look overBrides.
“No cheesy shit,” he says.
“I’m offended at the suggestion,” I say.
“And I don’t think we should have a wedding party,” he says. “Too much work, and I don’t want a bachelor party.”
Pat’s, in Arizona, didn’t exactly go according to plan. They booked the wrong hotel and ended up getting delayed at the airport for nine and a half hours. Everyone got drunk on beers and Bloody Marys, and David was hungover the rest of the weekend.
“I’m with you. Bella can hold our rings, or something.”
“Fine.”
“And white flowers only.”
“Works for me.”
