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?”