I have to tell him about the baby.”
I smile at her. Her joy is contagious.
“No matter what Mike says or thinks, I’m thrilled about the baby. That won’t change,” she declares.
Katie’s tune has evolved from indecisive and insecure to optimistic and overjoyed. Perhaps the baby has become more real for her now that she’s been to the doctor. I feel both relieved and apprehensive for her.
The line inches forward again, and it’s finally our turn. Katie orders a warm eggplant submarine sandwich because pregnant ladies can’t eat deli meat she explains, something about catching listeria. I choose to live on the edge and order a possibly listeria-laden turkey on rye with lettuce, mustard, and a half-sour pickle on the side. We have them bag our food and we walk toward the Commons, intending to sit on the grass with our makeshift picnic.
“Mike said he might come by. I told him we’d be by the swan boats,” Katie informs me.
“He’s in town?”
She nods, and her blonde ponytail bounces behind her. “He’s at his office today.”
We find a shady spot that provides a view of the swan boats. I haven’t been for a ride on a swan boat since grade school. It’s calming to watch their slow, steady progression across the still pond.
The grass is warm and soft beneath us. The breeze forces us to anchor our napkins as we attempt to bite into our oversized sandwiches. I want to ask Katie what she’ll do if Mike isn’t happy about the baby, but I don’t want to dampen her mood.
As we eat, she inquires about the state of my job, nodding her understanding of the situation. Then she asks if I’ve seen Ryan again. Since Thursday I’ve been checking my cell phone for messages far too often, still not quite believing that I’ve been blown off by him. But there has been no sign of Ryan since our day at the beach. I tell Katie that I haven’t seen him, and I redirect the conversation back to her. I’m not really interested in talking about it. Talking about things never makes me feel better about them. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Repressing my feelings is what keeps me going most of the time.
I’m crumpling my empty sandwich bag in my hands when Katie glances up and grins at someone behind me.
“Hello, ladies.” I hear.
“You found us,” Katie calls as she hoists herself up.
I turn my head to find Mike towering over me in a pair of casual, well-worn khakis and a short-sleeve button-down shirt. His stylishly long, wheat-colored hair blows in the breeze. His magnetism is palpable, and I notice that every female in the vicinity is aware of him.
Katie kisses him and then pulls him over to where she was sitting. Mike lowers himself onto the grass beside me.
“Hey, Andy.” He reaches across me and tugs on my shoulder to bring me in for a cheek kiss.
I compliantly peck his scruffy cheek, and then I pull back and smile my hello to him.
His hand lingers a moment longer as he gives me a quick shoulder rub. Then he turns his attention to the remnants of our lunch. “Where’s mine?” he asks.
Katie’s eyes go wide. “When I asked you this morning, you told me not to get you anything because you weren’t sure if you’d make it.”
Mike places his hands behind him on the grass and he looks up into the clear sky. “I don’t remember saying that.”
Katie blinks her surprise at him. “Well, you did. Do you want me to go get you something now?”
He shakes his head. “No, don’t bother. But when you asked me to meet you in the park for lunch, I thought you were bringing lunch.” He shrugs and closes his eyes as he soaks up the warm rays of the sun.
Beside him, Katie’s hands are clenched in her lap. “You must be hungry. Let’s walk back to the sandwich shop and get you something,” she says as she begins to gather her things.
“I’m headed that way, too,” I offer in an effort to help.
“Nah. I’ll just head back to the office. I can grab something from the vending machine.”
“That’s not lunch, Mike,” she says. “Come on. The place is right there.”
“It’s fine,” he insists. “I really didn’t have a lot of time anyway.” He stands suddenly and brushes at the seat of his pants.
Katie and I stand, too, but I can tell from the look on her face that she’s not finished. She is about