Good Time(46)

It’s been fun getting to know him though. Really fun. The board games and the cooking and the talking. The sleepovers and the chatting until we fall asleep. Learning what we have in common, and what we don’t. But maybe he doesn’t want more. Maybe I’m the only one interested in moving this from accidental to purposeful.

“About that.” He rises now, stepping back and putting distance between us, sitting on the edge of his desk, his hands bracketing the desk on either side of his hips. He glances away for a moment and I wonder if he’s finally going to bring up the annulment paperwork again.

For the record, I’m not bringing it up. Like, ever. Unless it’s our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and the statute of limitations on annulments has run out. Wait, I don’t think there is a statute of limitations on annulments. I think that term is meant for crimes, or tax evasion. But whatever, I’m not bringing it up, is the point.

Vince locks eyes with me again for a long moment before letting out a small huff of breath. Then shakes his head a little and smiles.

“Pole dancing is the traditional one-week gift?”

“No. Pole dancing was me taking an interest in your hobbies.”

“Right. I forgot. My hobbies.”

“So I can’t learn to pole-dance?”

“Not here, you can’t.” He crosses his arms and stares me down. “Though obviously I can’t tell you what you can or can’t do, Payton.”

“No, you can’t.” Glad we’re on the same page about that. Seriously, I am ridiculously good at picking husbands. I wonder if I should start a matchmaking business? That would be the ultimate event planning position, wouldn’t it? It’d be like life planning. Oh, my God. I’d be like a life coach. A matchmaking life coach! I really hope I remember this idea later. I lose some really great ideas because I forget to write them down.

“I hope you brought some clothing to wear out of here because you’re not wearing that.”

“I’m wearing twice as much material as I wear at the pool,” I argue. I wonder if I have untapped lawyer potential? I decide it doesn’t matter because I’d much rather plan events than argue with anyone. Plus the matchmaking life coaching thing is a much better idea.

“Then you need a new swimsuit,” Vince retorts. “Or a private pool.”

I roll my eyes. “Listen, Vince. Good news. I have a backup plan for today.”

“I legiterally cannot wait to hear it.”





Chapter Twenty-Four





“We’re”—he pauses with a look around us—“mini-golfing?”

“Yes!” I nearly bounce with excitement because this was a very good idea. “Because you like golf! And I don’t know how to golf, but I’m an excellent mini-golfer. And you can work on your putting! Great idea, right?”

“With glow-in-the-dark golf balls.” Vince is looking around the place like he’s entered the Twilight Zone. Which he sorta has because I’ve brought him to the Twilight Zone indoor mini-golf course at Bally’s. The entire place is glow in the dark and themed around the Twilight Zone movie.

“Yeah. Is that gonna throw off your game, big guy? Are you already looking for an excuse for losing?”

“Oh, I’m not losing.”

“Says you. I’m an excellent mini-golfer.”

We find the admission booth and pay—well, Vince pays. I attempted to, but he insisted and since I calculator-mathed that seven-hundred-dollar-an-hour billing rate of his I didn’t fight him on it. I pick out a glow-in-the-dark pink ball for myself and ask him if he’d like a blue ball. Then I laugh like a twelve-year-old because honestly, does anyone ever outgrow ball jokes? I hope not.

“I’ll keep score,” I announce and grab a tiny scorecard and pencil. I write our names on the scorecard as Vince slides his credit card back into his wallet. I like the way our names look together. Payton and Vince. Like a team, even though we’re competing against each other, being on the same score card makes us a sort of unit. In my mind at least, and I’m keeping this card forever. I’ll tuck it into a drawer somewhere or maybe put it between the pages of a book like a pressed flower. Which reminds me…

“I like to read!” I announce out of nowhere. I drop my ball in the tee box area at hole one. I wonder if there’s an official term for this or if tee box is it.

“That’s good to hear,” Vince deadpans.

I smile, because my outburst was pretty random. I like the way he rolls with my randomness.

“As a hobby. I like to read books as a hobby.”

“That’s an excellent hobby.”

“I didn’t think of it the other day when you asked me what my hobbies were. And I wanted you to know I have a hobby other than eating Cheez-Its.”

“So I should cancel the case of Cheez-Its in custom-made boxes I’ve got on order?”

I blink and side-eye him, not sure if he’s joking or not. I give it a full three seconds of thought before accepting it’s a joke because I don’t think anyone offers custom Cheez-It boxes, but who wouldn’t want that to be real? I stick out my tongue at him and take my shot. The ball stops half a foot from the hole.

“What kind of books do you like to read?”