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He smiled, looking at me as we got to the front of the line. “I missed
you.”
“Stop lying and order me a bev.”
He ordered my Coke and a water for himself, taking his arm away to
reach for his wallet.
The lady behind the counter couldn’t change a hundred, because of
course that was all he had, so I rolled my eyes and paid.
“When you have kids,” he asked as we walked back to our seats, “you
sending them to private school or public?”
“I doubt I’ll have a choice. You know what private schools cost in LA?”
“No.”
Of course he didn’t. Why bother tallying it up when you could buy the
entire school?
“But,” he continued, “what if we had kids?”
“How’s that even possible?”
“Let’s say.”
“Let’s say there was truth and justice and the moon was made of
American cheese.”
“Green cheese.”
“Let’s say the earth was circled by a ball of dairy product and we had
babies.”
We sat in our assigned places and waited for the lights to go down
again.
“Seriously. Do you want children?” he asked. “Or are you too wild and
independent?”
“We should have fake discussed this before we were fake married.”
“We did.” He cracked open his water. “It’s the only TBD in our
contract.”
“Right, you wanted to make sure you stamped your name on
nonexistent kids.”
“Are you going to answer?”
“Yes. I want one. Maybe two. But if I can swing it, I want to adopt.”
“Hm.” He drank from the bottle.
“What? You want me to assure you that if we accidentally adopt, they’ll
be Crownes?”
“Just asking.”
“No follow-up?”