While Trisha poked around in the detritus on the lake shore, Ryan lay on their picnic blanket with his eyes closed and listened to the lapping waves and seagulls. He and Trisha had the beach almost all to themselves that afternoon in October. It was the first time since his father's visit that he'd felt really peaceful, and Ryan wanted to soak up as much of that serenity as possible before another mad week of waiting tables in an understaffed bistro.
A shadow crossed Ryan's face and he looked up. Trisha stood over him with a large wet scallop shell in her hands and a big grin on her face. "Look at this one. Isn't it nice?"
He didn't really care about shells, but managed to find something nice to say anyway. "Yeah. You don't find a lot of big ones that aren't broken."
Trisha crouched down beside him and offered him the shell. Both halves rested, closed, on the palm of her hand. "Look at it."
Ryan looked at it. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Give it to you." A gust of wind rustled the nylon of her jacket.
Ryan rolled onto his side and took the cold, wet shell with two fingers. He held it away from his body so it wouldn't drip on him. "Thanks." It dawned on Ryan that scallops don't live in lakes. Trisha was up to something, and he had a bad gut feeling about it.
"Look at how pretty the inside of the shell is."
Ryan opened the shell with trepidation, and found a man's ring - all gold except for a single diamond set flush with the band. "Ryan, will you marry me?" Trisha asked.
"Um." Ryan couldn't bring himself to say he'd marry Trisha. Not only had he been thinking of breaking up with her, but in his mind's eye, he saw Jamila following his father out the door, with her shoulders hunched. "This is a really bad time to ask."
"What's wrong? Is there somebody else?" she asked, her voice turning shrill.
"No." At least, there was nobody else he had a chance with. "Remember I told you about my sperm donor coming to visit?"
"Good grief, Ryan. You're not him." She plopped down on the blanket.
"No, but I hit him without meaning to, or even knowing I was going to do it until it happened. Sometimes it's like... I think something and I do it at the same time. It's like there's a wire loose or something."