What Lovers Do(19)

His face lights up, which makes me feel good too. He likes his family. I can tell from the look in his eyes. “My parents manage several properties they rent for vacation homes. They spend most of their time in Sedona, but my childhood home, which they still own, is in Phoenix. They play golf and sip cold drinks with friends every day. I plan on following in their footsteps when I retire.”

My laughter bubbles to the surface so naturally. Everything about Shep is easy. Everything else feels complicated. For once, I just need easy. Shep World isn’t my reality; it’s an escape. I need this escape, just for a little bit. No one has to know. They wouldn’t understand.

“Good plan.” I smile. “My sister questioned my profession when I decided to be an optometrist. She called it a boring profession. It’s not boring to me. I like it. And when I retire, I think golf and cold drinks with friends sounds perfect. I don’t think people take enough time to be present. To appreciate life without fast-forwarding to the future. We waste so much of now in preparation for tomorrow or the next day … or the next decade. Is it really a race? Can we not slow down before we die, or even before we retire?”

“A golfer who lives in the moment … you’re really killing me, Sophie. We stay friends, right? When you marry this other guy and take over the throne, you won’t forget about me, right?” He holds up his bottle of beer.

I won’t have a baby belly for months, so what will it hurt to just … live in the moment?

I clink my lemonade glass to his beer bottle. “No promises. Let’s take it one day at a time.”

“One day at a time.” He bobs his head a few times like he’s mulling it over.

Our food arrives and we eat every bite. I find out that Shep has a sister who is five years older than him. She’s married with two kids. They live in Seattle. She’s a stay-at-home mom, and her husband TJ is a welder for a shipping company.

“I have a sister too.” I toss my napkin aside. I’m so full. “She lives in Tempe. Her husband is an analyst, and she teaches English at a private school. She’s three years older than me.”

“And your parents?”

“They’re divorced now. My dad lives in Santa Monica, and he’s remarried. My mom lives in Detroit, where I grew up. Her cat died recently, and she wanted me to fly home for the burial. I did not, so now I’m on her shit list.”

Shep smirks and slides his plate away from him as the bartender clears our dishes from the counter. “Tragic. That’s pretty awful of you.”

I chuckle and nod.

“How did both you and your sister end up here?” he asks.

“I moved here first after my best friend moved here. My sister’s husband had the chance to relocate to offices in Tempe, so they took the transfer here to be closer to me.”

“Wow. You abandoned your mom.”

“We did not abandon her.” I shake my head several times. “My grandma is still alive and in Michigan. Mom plans on moving here when Grandma dies. She wants to be close to her grandchildren.”

“Oh, does your sister have kids?”

Biting my lips together, eyes slightly flared, I shake my head. “Not yet. They’re trying, so hopefully soon. She’s had several miscarriages. It’s been rough on them.”

“Sorry to hear that. Have they considered adoption?”

“Not yet. They still haven’t given up hope of having a child of their own. There’s a lot of options now.”

“And you? Are you planning on a family some day?”

“Of course. The future of the throne depends on it.”

Shep barks a laugh, and it’s warm and inviting. I find myself leaning into him a bit more like people do after a few drinks, tipsy because Shep World (I’m trademarking that) is a beautiful place.

He brings his finger to the bridge of my yellow-framed glasses and slides them up my nose a fraction of an inch as he grins. “What do you think your husband will be like? Amazing, probably. I bet he cures cancer or solves the climate change crisis. Some awesome shit like that. And he no doubt rides an actual white horse.”

I gobble up his words, his proximity, everything about him. And I think about his guesses regarding my fake husband and his hypothetical awesomeness. Who needs to cure cancer or solve climate change? Small, good deeds should be enough. Like … having a baby for two people who cannot do it on their own. If we can infinitely change the course of one person’s life for the better, then that’s enough to feel fulfilled.

“Can I get you anything else?” the bartender asks.

“We’re good,” I whisper without taking my gaze away from Shep’s. I like our little world. It’s such a different life than my reality right now. A magical alternate universe. It’s like immersing myself into a book where I can’t wait to turn the next page. And sometimes I have to put the book down and return to reality, but I anxiously anticipate the next time I get to dive back into Shep World.

“Who leaves you?” I ask without a delay of thoughts from my brain to my lips. I’ve thought it. Who leaves someone like Shep?

The joy that’s been on his face for the past hour starts to fade, and he blinks, glancing away at nothing in particular. He starts to speak.

“Stop!” I hold up my hand. “Don’t answer that. I’m new at this. It’s my first time having a strictly … positive friendship. It’s going to take some getting used to. So when I screw up, just kick my shin or something, and I’ll do the same to you.”