The Cable Guy

She was smiling the first time he saw her. They were walking into Starbucks at the same pace, barely taking note of the other. Then they reached the entrance and he glanced to his side, just long enough to see that it was a girl. He stepped ahead to open the door for her, out of habit.

She looked up, and it was enough for his stomach to do a little backflip. Her face was bright, her eyes clear as day.

"Thank you," she told him as they walked in, still sharing their pace. "I thought chivalry was dead."

"Maybe you brought it back to life," he said, before he could help himself. "Ah. Sorry. Sorry. That was a joke," he added when she stared.

She kept staring, waiting a moment or two to make him nervous, and burst into fits. "Trying to break into comedy, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I'd kick Jay Leno's ass," he quipped as they fell in line, letting her go in front.

"You could, but he's no longer in his prime. Can you do the same thing twenty years ago?"

"If you give me a time machine, I could show you."

She laughed, then faced the counter for her order. At one point she leaned over to whisper in the barista's ear.

"I'll be seeing you," she told him as she took a sip of her drink, leaving before he could slip in another word, maybe ask for her number. Turns out he didn't need to.

He asked for his latte, with an extra shot of java, and got an extra surprise too.

"What's this?" he pointed to the side of his cup, where eleven digits were scrawled in black Sharpie.

The barista shrugged in the middle of an argument with the blender. "The lady in front told me to write that down for you."

He called her before he was even out the door.

-

She had answered him on the first ring. From then on he didn't think he'd laughed so hard in his life, so many times, with just one person. Years later and she was still the highlight of his day, every day.

The question was so inevitable, and he was so predictable, that she beat him to it.

"Marry me?" she told him; she wasn't even asking, really.

He balked, and if he were drinking anything he would've snorted the offending liquid out of his nose. "What?!"

She smiled devilishly, perching her chin on top of one hand. "The ring's running a little late, but it'll be here when the champagne arrives. Won't it?"

His jaw was a little sore from hanging open too long. "How'd you know?"

She laughed, reaching over the table to wipe at a bit of drool on the side of his mouth. "Come on! You haven't called me all day, you actually booked reservations, and you showed up in a tie. What else was I supposed to think?"

He huffed, red across his nose like a sunburn. "Maybe I was gonna break up with you, and I wanted to let you down gently."

"Not if I break up with you first," she chipped in, amusement and triumph like brothers on her face. "But it's too late for that now, isn't it?" Just as a waiter came with the champagne.

She fishes the ring out, and makes him hold out his hand so she could slide it onto his finger. His sunburn had worsened, it was worth it.

"Nice rock," she said as she eyes the diamond, toasting her glass with his.

"I've got good taste," he replied as he drank, just to make her laugh.

-

"I have something to tell you," she told him when he checked his voicemail. "Come home quickly."

His heart took a beating, arteries boasting black eyes as he pulled up on their driveway, stumbling inside. He didn't have to call her name.

"I'm in the bathroom!" she yelled, though she didn't sound in as much distress as he remembered from the phone.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he panted as she turned to face him. "What's that in your hand?"

She was quiet, for once. She shook a little.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, putting his arms around her in an attempt to console. She sobbed, or at least he thought she did. But then she punched his shoulder, and he doubted himself a bit.

"Ow," he pouted as he pulled back. "What was that for?"

"For being a knucklehead," she laughed, holding up the object in her hand. "Look!"

It took him a moment or two. "Is that--?"

"What else?!"

"Positive?" he squeaked.

She giggled, hugging without hitting him this time. "We'll have to sign you up for Daddy classes, idiot."

-

"I like Lazarus," she said, without looking up.

He made a face, motioning for her to give him the book. She threw it at him, and he caught it, but just barely.

"Hey, now!"

She only grinned in return, flicking her hand dismissively. "Go on, check it out."

"I will, I will. Sheesh." He used his finger to run down the list of names, settling on the L column. He spoke a minute or two later. "A little too biblical, don't you think?"

"Just enough!" She piped up as he tossed the book back to her, opening it up to the right page again. "It'll make him sound like one of the X-Men. I like it."

He laughed at that, walking over to plop on the bed next to her. "And I like the way you think." He puckered his lips, almost cartoonish, for a kiss.

She smashed her palm into his face, giggling, even as he lathered it in saliva. "I know you do."

"Hmm. What about nicknames?"

"Lazarus. Laz.. Laza... Rus?" She tried, pensive as he rejected each one. "Got any ideas, Einstein?"

He thought for a moment; he was quite certainly one to resist a challenge, but not if they were from her. "Larry?"

"Might get confused with the Cable Guy..."

"It's either that or Rusty."

She laughed, giving him the kiss he had been asking for. "Fine, Larry then. At the very least, we'll have free cable."

He swooned, almost convincingly, hand to his forehead and voice climbing in pitch. "I want to make love with your brain."

"...you always take it a little too far." She smacked him again, but she was smiling.