Page 81 of The Write Stuff

I HAD TO PARK BLOCKS AWAY from the restaurant. Savannah parking was never easy. I offered to drop Wylie off in front of the restaurant and catch up to her, but she shook her head, nerves obviously getting the best of her.

I didn’t argue. It was probably better if we went in together.

Once I found a spot, we set out. Unfortunately, thanks to her efforts to look “casually chic,” Wylie had worn a pair of heeled sandals, and her steps were wobbly on the cobblestones as we walked.

“You should have worn tennis shoes,” I noted, trying not to be too impatient. I was hungry and eager to get the grilling over from our friends.

“I wanted to look good for you.” She obviously hadn’t realized what she was going to say until it was out of her mouth because she jerked up her chin. “I mean … I … well …” She scratched her cheek.

I loved it when she got awkward. I couldn’t help it. “You always look good to me. The sandals are nice. Your legs look great in them. These cobblestones are ridiculous, though.”

“Yeah, you would think they would replace them with flat cement and asphalt so people wouldn’t fall as much.”

“I think they like the look. Plus, since the cobblestones are historical, they probably save a lot of money by not having to replace them.”

“They’re stupid, though.” She almost tripped again, but I caught her.

“They’re very stupid,” I agreed, swinging her up in my arms. She was light, so even though it was hot, I didn’t struggle.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking around with wide eyes. She appeared shocked by my actions.

“I don’t want you twisting an ankle. I have big plans for you this weekend at my place. I won’t be able to carry them out if you’re hobbled.”

“Huh.” She stared up at me in such a way that I felt self-conscious. “You’re kind of heroic carrying me like this.”

“Like Superman would carry Lois?” I asked hopefully.

“Like Worf would carry Troi.”

I made a face. “I should have seen that coming.”

“You really should have.” She rested her head against my shoulder, and I didn’t care that she’d just turned me into a Klingon.

It only took me a few minutes to get her to the flat sidewalk. I helped finger-comb her hair once she was on her feet. Then I took her hand for the rest of the walk. It was time to face the music.

As expected, everybody else was already seated. All eyes were on us as we joined them at the table. I noticed right away that they’d left two seats open together. This was the first time they’d purposely done that.

“Evening, everybody,” I said as I pulled out Wylie’s chair.

She banged her shin into it as she tried to sit, and then hit her face on the table when she reached down to check her shin. I took her arm to help her back upright and searched her forehead for signs of a lump. She hadn’t hit it hard enough to do any damage, but knowing Wylie, if anybody could manage that feat, it was her.

When she was finally settled, and I was in my chair next to her, I lifted my chin and took in the myriads of stares from around us. “Get it out of the way now,” I instructed. “After tonight, I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

Instead of peppering us with questions, Bree held out her hand. “Pay up, suckers,” she ordered.

To my surprise, everybody started throwing money at her. It looked like 50 bucks all around. When she had it all, Bree happily folded it and stuck it in her purse.

“We’re happy that you’re happy,” was all she said.

I waited for the avalanche of questions — How did you get together? How long has this been going on? Why did you hide it? — but all I got were comments about the menu.

“I’m getting the grouper,” Hayley said. “I’ve had it here before, and it’s amazing.”

“I’m getting the scallops,” Bree replied. She was the only one looking at us.

“That’s it?” I demanded as I rubbed my hand over Wylie’s back. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“What do you want us to say?” Nathan asked. He looked calm and collected. “We all knew it was going to happen.”