Page 30 of From Fling to Ring

“I was just saying that our friend Tyler here might have grown up with a single parent, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say he came out okay.”

Rake nods, having been caught up with one single sentence.

I know I deserve a good ribbing. God knows I dish it out often enough. “Jonas decided to blow off some steam by having a ‘bust Tyler’s chops moment.’”

Rake rubs his hands together as we make our way out. “Oh, one of my favorite pastimes. Speaking of which, what’s up with Petal’s friend, Lucy? Or has that already imploded and you’re currently being fitted for a pretty pink tutu?”

“Why don’t you ask your wife,” I say, looking around for our Uber ride. “I know you married types share ‘everything,’” I say with air quotes.

“Tried that,” Rake says. “Guess they haven’t spoken in a few days. Something about Lucy being busy with work and some book she’s writing.”

“Oh yeah. She told me she wanted to write a book. I didn’t get around to asking her what sort, though. Probably something about San Francisco. She knows everything about the city.”

As we squeeze into the Uber, I realized I should have ordered one of the larger cars. “Go sit in the front seat,” I tell Jonas.

But the driver waves at us with a ‘no’. “I keep my lunch on the front seat,” she says.

Okay, then. This is one driver who will not be getting a stellar review rating.

“So? Back to Lucy?” Jonas asks, wedging me against the backseat door.

I grab the oh-shit handle as we turn a corner so I don’t end up on the guys’ laps. “I have to say, guys, she’s great. We’re having fun.”

They look at me in surprise.

“I’m serious. It’s true. I know ninety days is a ways off, but I’m pretty sure it will be you two figuring out how to find man-sized tights and dresses. Oh yeah, and figure skates too. You can’t wear hockey skates to a figure skating lesson, you know.”

Whatever. I’m going to win this bet and surprise everyone, least of all Lucy.

And I’m not even going to think about the break up clause. Otherwise, I won’t be able to eat my dinner.

15

TYLER

It’s the crack of dawn and therefore hours until the morning fog burns off, if it ever does. You never know about San Francisco.

Lucy and I shiver as we hustle to the dock to board the Briny Bride, the ship that will take us on a day-long cruise from San Francisco out into the ocean, where we are promised with ninety-six percent certainty that we will see migrating whales.

Lucy zips up her down puffer against the morning chill, and while she pulls on a little red beanie, it’s easy to see she’s excited as hell.

Me, a little less so.

I’ve never been a fan of going out into the ocean in boats. Actually, I’ve never done it. But I also know I’m not a fan.

And I am even less so, when I see our ‘ship’.

I was imagining something just short of a cruise line sort of boat, not the little wooden thing tied to the dock that looks straight out of Gilligan’s Island.

Well, shit. That’s what I get for not doing my homework.

“This is gonna be so great,” Lucy perks, bouncing up and down in her tennis shoes as we check in with a guy holding a clipboard and pencil.

Great.

I hoist my backpack, filled with our lunch, snacks, bottles of water, and phone chargers, and follow her onto what looks to me like a fishing boat that’s been given a new coat of paint.

I’m sure the boat is safe and all that, it’s just that I expected something… different.

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