Page 86 - In Five Years

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.”
“Heavy cocktail hour, who cares about dinner?”
“Exactly.”

“And open bar.”
“But no shots.”

David smiles. “No special wedding shot? Alright then.” He flips over his
wrist. “Nice progress. I gotta go.”
“That’s it?” I say. “Planner and run?”

“You want to have lunch now?”
I look at my phone. Seven missed calls and thirty-two new emails. “No. I was
late when I got here.”

David stands and hands me my salad. I take it.
“We’ll get it done,” I tell him.
“I know we will.”

I imagine David wearing a sweater and a gold band on his ring finger,
opening wine in our kitchen on a cozy winter night. A sense of sustained
comfort. The materials of a warm life.

“I’m happy,” I tell him.
“I’m glad,” he says. “Because either way, you’re stuck with me.”