Good Time(66)

I couldn’t stop myself. I lived within walking distance of my office—it was the only reason I picked my apartment—yet every evening I’d find myself in my car driving to Payton’s apartment.

She liked me, I knew that much. She liked me even when she thought I was a strip club owner who might be in need of healthcare or tax relief. She liked the idea of being married, but was terrified of it at the same time. So she was trying me on, like a sample. And I was falling in love with her.

She said she was falling in love with me, but could I trust that? A week into our relationship? Into our marriage? Payton was a spontaneous wildfire with an overactive imagination.

And I loved her.

Then she got served with the annulment paperwork and she shut down before she’d even talked to me about it. Paperwork that was never meant to be sent, but instead of trusting her instincts about us, about me, clammed up. She told me later that her plan was to woo me once the annulment was processed. She thought we’d date and she’d woo me into loving her back.

But there wasn’t a chance that was happening because I already loved her and I wasn’t letting her go.

I asked her if she wanted a re-do. A real wedding, as it were. A dress and flowers and a fancy dinner with all her friends and family present. She looked at me with an expression akin to horror and said, “God, no. Please don’t make me do that.”

When I finished laughing she kissed me and said the wedding we’d already had was the only one she wanted, and all she’d ever need.

“You might regret it later,” I warned. She promised if she ever felt the desire for a wedding re-do she’d let me know.

She did request a honeymoon re-do and I happily obliged.

I took her to the Maldives, to one of those resorts with private thatch-roofed overwater bungalows. Ten days of relaxation, sex and not a single tan line on Payton.

It was heaven, but every day since has been just as great. Two years of viewing the world though a Payton lens and I’m not sure how I ever coped without her.

She moved into my cold and lifeless condo at first because it made the most sense for both of us. Not surprisingly, it didn’t feel cold and lifeless with her in it. Still, I don’t miss it. Last month we moved into our new home, the one we constructed on the lot where I’d asked her to stay, where I’d laid out a fantasy vision of our future, telling her I was all in.

The reality is better.



The garage door slides up as I pull into the driveway. Some fancy contraption linking my car to the automatic door. I park and I’ve got to admit, it’s satisfying as fuck to have a home. I’ve never owned a home before. I’ve never lived in a home before. Growing up it was apartments. Once I had money it was nicer apartments and then the condo. I wish my mom could be here to see it, but I know she’d be proud of me and that gives me peace.

My lovely wife is in the kitchen when I enter the house through the garage. She’s standing at the island countertop, making a list of something on a notepad. She still works in event planning at the Windsor, but she’s got quite a side business planning events on her own. She looks up at my arrival and grins, giving me an enthusiastic kiss and a hello. I make it ten feet past the kitchen before I stop.

It’s an open-concept home so I can see Payton from where I’m standing. I can also see a baby. I walk closer, just to be sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me or she hasn’t purchased one of those very expensive dolls they use for high-school classes to terrify teenagers out of procreating.

It’s a real baby. Asleep, but very real. It’s sitting in some kind of bouncy seat contraption in the middle of our family room.

We don’t have a baby.

We don’t have any friends who have a baby.

I glance back to Payton, but she’s ignoring me as she jots away at her list.

“Payton, where did this baby come from?”

“Oh!” Payton looks up, an expression of excitement on her face. She claps her hands together, as if she cannot contain her enthusiasm, as she abandons her list to join me. “She’s ours now. Do you like her?”

Fuck.

“Payton Elizabeth, where did you get this baby?”

“I’m just messing with you.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as if I’m so gullible. “She belongs to the next-door neighbor and I’m not sampling her without permission, so you can wipe that look off your face right now.”

“Why is she here?” I think it’s a she. She’s wearing a baby headband with a giant pink bow.

“Well, I was helping plan Lucy’s birthday party,” Payton begins.

“Who is Lucy?”

“The baby. I wouldn’t have chosen it myself, but it’s a lovely name. I was thinking option A, Annabel, or option B, Joseph. What do you think?”

Good Lord, where to start. I look at her carefully, assessing.

“Are you pregnant, Payton?”

“Not yet, but I was thinking maybe I should be? That maybe it’s time to try?”

“You were thinking this based on a couple of hours of baby-sampling?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Lucy’s been here for five minutes. Her mother just ran out to meet the school bus.”

“Okay, so how did you come to the conclusion that we’re ready to be parents?” I think we’re ready, but I’d like to hear her thoughts. I always like hearing her thoughts.