Page 57 of Single Dad Problems
"You've checked your phone four times since we left the flower place," Ben said.
"I'm checking the time."
"You have a watch."
"The watch might be wrong."
Cole said nothing from behind the wheel, which from Cole meant he agreed with Ben. I looked out the window and tried not to think about the unanswered text, and thought about the unanswered text.
The bear had been Ben's idea. Specifically, Ben had walked into the flower shop, looked at the giant carnival bear in the display window, and said "that's the one" before either of us could stop him. I'd argued against it for five minutes and lost, which was how I ended up riding across town with ninety pounds of plushy bear in my lap.
"She's going to laugh at us," I said.
"That's the goal," Ben said. "She laughs, her guard comes down, we talk, everybody wins."
"Or she laughs and thinks we're idiots."
"Luke." Ben turned to look at me, which was difficult given the bear between us. "We're bringing her a six-foot bear on a holiday weekend. We are idiots. The whole point is she already knows that and she likes us anyway."
Cole was quiet for a second. Then: "I can't believe I'm in a truck with a giant stuffed animal because I'm gonna ask a woman to be ours. I've never wanted to share a damn thing in my life. With her I don't even care. And I’m doing it with you two Assholes." He kept his eyes on the road.
He was right, this was absurd. I'd been fine after we left Ben's place last night. Fine in the way men get when they've made a decision, when the plan is solid and the morning will take care of itself. Then I'd lain awake thinking about the look on her face when she bolted from that auditorium, and I'd started spiraling in panic and ended up opening my Notes app.
"Tell me you didn't type an actual speech," Ben said, reading my face.
"It's an outline."
"Oh my God."
"Three points. Very clear and concise."
"Cole," Ben said. "He wrote a speech."
"I heard," Cole said.
"It's not a speech, it's a framework for a romantic monologue."
"Read it," Ben said. "Come on. Let's hear your framework Romeo."
"I'm not reading it out loud."
"Then I'm going to improvise my entire thing and it's going to be better than yours and you're going to hate it."
That was a genuine threat. Ben improvising feelings was somehow always perfect in the moment, which was deeply annoying for those of us who prepared. I looked out the window. "Fine. I'm going to tell her that last night she heard the worst version of us, and we came to show her the real one."
"Damn," Cole said.
"That's actually incredible," Ben said, with the tone of a man who'd never admit it twice. "Mine's just 'Cupcake, we're idiots, but we're your idiots.' I was going to wing everything after that."
"You cannot wing everything after that."
"I have never once in my life not wung the rest."
"Wung isn't-"
"It's a word now, I'm making it a word, I get to do that."
Cole made a sound that was close enough to a laugh that Ben looked smug about it for the next two blocks.
