“You never said that before!” I say in exasperation.
“Well, I’m saying it now.”
“I just think it’s interesting that you say you want Archie to be adopted. But no one is ever good enough for him.”
He rolls his shoulders and lets out a sigh. “How about we drop the subject? This is supposed to be a nice day for us. And”—he looks around—“who knows what cameras are lurking? I’d prefer not to have our first fight on camera.”
I scoff. “Like this would be our first fight.” But I make a zipping motion in front of my mouth. “Subject dropped, boss man.”
He grabs my hand back. “I’m not your boss today. I’m your date.”
“Then prove it by buying me a salted caramel cone.” I pull him toward the ice cream shop.
Archie devours his pup cream in three large bites. Ryder eats half of his chocolate cone quickly and then throws away the rest when it starts to melt. The heathen. I, however, eat mine leisurely as we wander in and out of stores. His eyes darken as he watches me lick the melting dessert.
As always, I chat with shop owners and enthuse over all the handmade crafts and jewelry for sale. I sigh over an amethyst ring. And a watercolor painting of the blue lobster shack onthe point, and a blue-and-yellow Provence tablecloth that I can imagine set with his grandmother’s china for a Sunday lunch on the patio.
Ryder buys them all for me, even when I argue. And he carries all the packages. When I insist on helping, he gives me the small bag with the ring.
I twirl the tiny turquoise bag and tell myself not to praise anything else or I’ll find that we’ve bought out all the shops. But secretly, I love it.
We could be any happy couple taking our dog for a walk.
My heart twists and dips in my chest.
It is real. I tell myself. Maybe not for long. But for today. For two weeks, it’s real.
“What next?” I ask.
“Now, we’re going to use your purchase. Have you had a lobster roll yet?”
I shake my head.
He stops at a small, white-washed cottage, and we wait in line to buy two lobster rolls, a beer for him, and fizzy wine for me. We carry our bounty to the stone stairs at the point.
He takes out the tablecloth we just bought and lays it on the step above us, then pulls out the sandwiches and drinks.
I grin. “I’m impressed. What would you have done if I hadn’t appreciated the tablecloth?”
“That was serendipitous. But the only thing that matters is Sal’s lobster rolls. This was my favorite food growing up. I think it still is.”
I take a giant bite and moan. “This is heaven. Heaven in a sandwich.”
I lean over as I eat so I don’t ruin the crocheted lace with lobster falling from the overfilled roll.
When I’ve devoured the last bite, I wipe my hands with the many napkins provided and then lean back and sigh happily as the sun beats down on me.
The sea and sky make a blindingly blue backdrop for the boats bobbing around in the harbor and the lobster shack and lighthouse on the point. I take out my phone and start snapping photos.
Ryder takes a sip of beer and watches. “Take a picture with me.”
“What?”
“I just realized we don’t have any photos together.”
“You want to take a photo together?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
He nods. “I do.”
