Page 46 of The False Flat

“How about ‘tiny important water creatures that larger things eat.’ Better?”

I considered. “Mildly insulting, but better.”

Laughter rolled alongside his words. “I’m interested in that sort of thing. Forgive me.”

“Sounds like a snoozefest. Interesting! I mean interesting! Sounds interesting.”

He kicked me under the table.

“Ow!”

I threw my plastic spoon at Grant’s face, but he ducked in time.

“They’re going to kick us out of here,” he said.

“They’ll kick you out of here. I’ll plead self-defense and then sit in the window, eating the complimentary banana pudding I’ll receive for everything I’ve been through.”

“Is that so?”

My nod was exaggerated.

“I’ll simply convince them that I barely tapped your leg and then win them over with my good looks and outrageous wit.”

“You plan to develop an outrageous wit between now and then, huh?”

He pushed back into his seat as if he’d been shot. “I’ll have you know I have a sizable wit.”

This time my nod was placating. “You’re right. Sizable. Like microscopic phytoplankton.”

His snort drew the eyes of several diners.

He pulled the napkin from his lap and dabbed at his eyes. “Enough.”

“I wasn’t the one who started it.”

“And from the sound of things, you won’t be the one to end it.” He stood and then reached out for my hand. “Shall we?”

I removed the napkin from my own lap and placed my hand in his, trying not to read anything into the literal spark that was jumping between our hands.

At the door, I glanced back at Fred and Doris. The couple had shoved their empty plates aside and were going back and forth as steadily as they had been thirty minutes before.

A pang of longing shot through me. I couldn’t picture Chad and me doing that.

“Where did you park?” Grant asked, shaking me back onto the sidewalk and out of Doris and Fred’s marital anomaly.

I pointed to the parking garage.

“I’ll walk you,” he said, and we moved away from the restaurant to my car. “This was fun. I’m glad Deanna’s spinach was ruined.”

“It was arugula, and that’s a horrible thing to wish on your sister.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Arugula, spinach, watercress, I’m glad you picked today, and I’m glad Deanna couldn’t make it.”

I wanted to rip the wings off the butterflies in my stomach. I was glad, too, but now, I needed to get away from him because I’d glanced at his lips and felt something happen in my lower regions.

“I . . . I need to go. My . . . goldfish is hungry.”

In one seamless movement, I got into my car and closed the door before Grant could wonder how I’d known it was arugula instead of spinach or before he realized I didn’t actually have a goldfish.