“Do you really have a lake house?” I don’t remember hearing about it before last night.
“I do. I bought it after Sarah and I broke up. So I could hole up like Thoreau and contemplate the nature of existence.”
“Did you know that Thoreau lived like a five-minute walk from his mother, and she would bring him food?”
“Lucky Thoreau. My place doesn’t even have DoorDash.”
“Where’s the house?”
“Lake Geneva, in Wisconsin, about ninety minutes outside of Chicago. It’s pretty small—two bedrooms. But it’s right on the water. Good kayaking.”
“You would not want to put me on a kayak.”
“I would absolutely want to put you on a kayak.”
“I don’t even like sailboats. I definitely do not want to ride in something with oars.”
“You’re in luck. Kayaks don’t have oars, they have a paddle. I’ll take you out on the lake when you visit. Show you some good ol’ wholesome midwestern fun.”
“I prefer Paris and Hawaii.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll feed you cheese curds. I bet you’ve never even seen a cheese curd.”
“The word ‘curd’ has to be among the most revolting in the entire English language.”
“Cheese curds and summer corn and cool dips in the lake on hot days. You’re going to be in heaven.”
I smile at him. That actually sounds wonderful. “I would like to see your place.”
“What are you doing next weekend?”
“Working, sadly.” I have that meeting with my dad and his producers on Monday, and I don’t want to be jetlagged for it.
“Cancel it,” he says decisively.
“Whoa tiger.” I laugh. “I actually do have a job. I can’t just gallivant around the hinterlands of America on short notice.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Let’s look at our calendars and find a date.” I pause. “It’s funny that I’ve never seen you in your own environment. Like, I’ve never been to your apartment.”
“I’m dying to go to your house. I bet it’s so girly and cute.”
My house actually is girly and cute.
“I bet yours is full of doilies and cats and those wood blocks that say it’s wine o’clock somewhere,” I joke.
“Yep,” he says. “And dead bodies.”
“That goes without saying.”
Seth asks for the check and I get up to go to the bathroom.
I take in my reflection in the mirror.
Usually I feel critical of myself, but right now, in this moment, I think I look pretty. Maybe it’s just the lighting, or the flattering color of this dress, or the way my hair turns wavy in the humidity.
Or maybe I’m seeing myself through Seth’s eyes.
I consider refreshing my lipstick but then decide it’s pointless. I want to kiss Seth with these lips, and I’m not sure how he’ll look in Nars Jungle Red.
“Ready?” he asks when I get back to the table.
“Yep. Where to next?”
“It’s a surprise.”
He takes my hand and we walk out to the parking lot. We make it as far as his mom’s car. I push him against the door and kiss him.
The last dregs of anxiety I’ve been harboring melt away once his arms are around me. “You,” my body thinks. “You.”
“Mommy! Eeeeew! They’re kissing!” a little boy cries.
“Knee that kid in the balls,” I whisper to Seth.
He laughs into my hair, pulling me closer.
We make out for what must be five minutes, until we’re both sweaty and sticky from the heat.
