Why “but”? No “but.”
“The fair thing to do, in our opinion, would be sharing the spaces,” Duncan said.
Was it irrational and immature that her instinct in that moment was to perch on the table and screech, “mine”?
“Okay,” Retta said, after taking several long breaths. She could be an adult about this. “What do you have in mind?”
“We could—”
“Excuse me,” the social media influencer said as she bumped into the back of Duncan’s seat trying to get up.
Tables and chairs shuffled as they made room for the woman to leave her seat.
Before exiting the bakery, the young woman shook her photographer/pretend boyfriend’s hand, and Retta found amusement in it all over again.
“Where were we?” Duncan asked.
Turning back to him to answer, Retta opened her mouth. However, nothing came out because she was struck silent by the halo surrounding Duncan’s head, courtesy of the perfectly positioned sun behind him, and with it, the answer to her problems. It was as if a deity herself had whispered the solution to her.
Wait. No. She couldn’t… Could she?
The pounding of her heart prevented her from scripting the conversation in her head. She gave up trying and said, “I have something really random to ask you. And if you hate it or think it’s weird, we never have to bring it up again—”
“I’m good at forgetting, remember?” he said, taking a drink of water.
She took a breath. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Duncan jerked forward, almost spewing water all over himself.
“I mean are you dating anyone right now? Retta asked.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, “I understood your question the first time.” He closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head. “Are you asking me out?”
Retta looked around. “No. Kind of. My cousin’s getting married.”
“Okay?” Duncan said. “Congrats to her.”
“Yes. Well, I need a date for the wedding…”
She hoped he’d fill in the blanks, understand the implications, and save her from spelling out this bizarre request.
Folding his arms, he frowned and said, “I’m confused. Are you suggesting I date you for parking spots?”
“W-we wouldn’t actually be a couple. I need to show up at this wedding with someone.”
“So, you want me to be your fake boyfriend?”
Hearing the request out loud was strange and humbling. She nodded.
“Why?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” Her ego wouldn’t handle her exposing the reason why she was attending this wedding. She was already internally wilting from what she’d shared.
“Yeah, it matters. I don’t make it a habit to blatantly lie to people.”
Retta straightened her glasses. His words felt like an indictment against her, but she internally scrambled for a way to explain herself.
“You know when you’re haunted by an embarrassing moment from years ago or an ugly yearbook photo, and all you want is a reset? To assure yourself and others that person isn’t you? This wedding is my reset,” she said.
