"Let's go order drinks in the café!" Lorelei urges excitedly, almost as soon as we've walked onto the Ferry from Bainbridge to Seattle midmorning on Thursday.

Rune nods as we follow her through the lines of cars to the metal stairs that take us up to the observation decks, but he seems distracted. His mood is still muted. I imagine he's anxious about seeing Julia and asking his favor. He likes my haircut, though, which is a relief. Leslie chopped more than six inches off, giving me a neat bob just a few inches past my chin.

He's probably nervous about being recognized now that we're going into a big city. He's not wearing his baseball cap today but doesn't take off his sunglasses as we step into the ferry café area. He's also careful where he places his gaze, keeping his eyes on the ground before him or me or Lorelei.

This is so different than how my mom behaves in crowds. She loves them, loves standing out with her unique manner of dress, always open to the possibility of speaking to anyone who recognizes her.

It feels like we've walked into 60s. It's too bad we don't have our Summer of Love costumes on. Ha ha. Rune chooses one of the broad, picture window booths with no one else sitting nearby. He sits facing away from the café where a small crowd of tourists gathered. The booth would be at home in the diner, except that it's so large, even as tall as we are, we could stretch out easily for a nap.

"Can I buy our drinks by myself?" Lorelei asks, not sitting down but dancing back and forth anxiously. She's wearing a lovely sage green pair of knit flair-legged pants and a long matching top over it. I French braided her hair into a crown on the top of her head this morning.

"Yes," Rune tells her, reaching for his wallet, but I've beat him to it. I stuck some cash in my pocket for things like this. He starts to scowl at me as I hand her the money but demurs when he sees my determined look. Just because he bought me this outfit doesn't mean I want to let him always buy everything. I insisted on paying for lunch yesterday.

Fortunately, this early in the day, mid-week, the Ferry isn't crowded at all. Most passengers are outside watching the water in hopes of viewing marine life or seated in the forward-facing prow section, reading newspapers or their phones.

"When was the last time you were in Seattle?" Rune asks after Lorelei zips off. He's looking particularly dapper in another beautiful light brown double-breasted suit. This one is tweed with a sage green stripe. His sage green shirt sets both the suit and his eyes off beautifully and makes the red in his hair pop

"Last February, my parents came up and met me for my birthday," I tell him, enjoying his handsomeness. How would I feel if he were really my boyfriend right now? Pretty darn happy, I think, and then tell him, "They took us to the place in the Pike that makes different interesting kinds of pasta daily. It's extremely authentic."

"Us?" he asks.

"Jack," I smile ruefully at him. Someone in the cafe laughs loudly, and I turn away from him, a little self-conscious. Sitting here by ourselves right now, it could almost be an actual date. How would that feel? A little odd in that we're the most well-dressed people on the Ferry. I've only noticed two other men in suits. I've never felt so fashionable in my entire life.

It's all I can do to keep from pulling out my compact to check my new haircut and the bold fuchsia lipstick Rune picked out for me to wear when I met Mandy and Stewart. Leslie went through my makeup after she cut my hair and insisted I wear it with this ensemble.

"Has Jack been in touch?" He asks, almost too casually, taking out his phone and glancing down at it.

"No, I was worried he would text me images of Iceland but thankfully not."

"I'm sorry that didn't work out better, Seashell," he says, putting his glasses on his head and pinching the bridge of his nose like he's got a headache, "he's an idiot."

"I appreciate that," I give him a small smile and dig through my small purse for the container of ibuprofen I always keep. I hold it up, and he nods. His fingers graze mine as he takes it from me. A shiver of delight runs up my arm.

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"Thanks," he pops it open, shaking out two before handing it back.

"School me on what to expect with Julia today," I say as I put the little bottle back, "Are you on good terms?"

"Yes and no," he says, holding the pills in his fist, "We're on much better terms than we were, but…." he tilts his other hand back and forth.

"But?" I nudge, wishing I'd thought to have this conversation yesterday.

"She can be a challenge when she knows I want something," he says with a slight frown, "I'm only agreeing to meet with her in person because I want something in return, and I have you and Lorelei with me.

Now he's rubbing his fingers over his upper lip, stalling, which makes me realize he shaved today. Interesting. I'd love to rub my cheek against his right now. Good grief, I'm ridiculous.

"Spit it out, Ruination," I say, mentally shaking myself, "what are you so worried about?"

"Julia can be blunt and nosy," he says, "all done with incredible charm, but she'll go for the jugular if she thinks it'll give her a leg up…"

Now he's rubbing his fingers over his mouth, not as if he's trying to be sexy, although it is sexy, but as if he's still trying to decide whether or not it's wise to tell me everything he's thinking.

"One Coke and two Oranginas," Lorelei says, setting the drink tray down with a flourish, "can I walk around now? I want to take pics for my scrapbook."

"Yes, but stay on this level and set the timer on your phone. Don't be gone longer than fifteen minutes," Rune tells her as I open my Coke and take a grateful sip of carbonated sugar; my shoulders relax a little as I do.

"Yes sir," she salutes him and saunters off at a fast walk, her drink in hand. Rune turns his focus back to me while he opens his drink and downs the pills in his hand with a swig.

"Will Julia try to embarrass you?" I ask, "Me? Both of us?"

"It depends on her mood. I'd like to be out in front of that.

"How do we do that?"

Rune glances around and then leans in, resting his hand on his chin, speaking lower, "The book you came up with is excellent. Thank you. I'm glad we have that. But it would also be lovely if she thinks we're, you know, extremely happy."

"As a couple?" I clarify, taking another sip of Coke to help my growing nerves.

"Yes. Like we're in the honeymoon phase," he says cocking that right eyebrow at me like he's telling me a sexy secret, "Like we've accomplished your list."

"My list…?" I blink at him, confused, and then, oh no. My face heats.

"Ruination!" I exclaim in a terse whisper, leaning in as well, "Tell me you didn't read my Sexpectations homework yesterday."

"I didn't mean to," he admits, going wide-eyed, "I thought it was more of your interesting tips about social media, but it was so fascinating I couldn't help myself…"

"Oh my God," I cut him off, putting my hand over my eyes, "just shoot me now."

"Why?" He looks genuinely confused at my mortification when I peer at him around my fingers,

"Why should you be ashamed of accomplishing a fantastic sex life? Who doesn't want that?" He says this as if it's a no-brainer, almost as if he's jealous.

"Because I haven't yet!" I whisper testily before I can stop myself. Crap.

"Oh," he says, surprised, "but it was written as if…"

"I was trying out Vivienne's whole positive affirmation technique," I sigh, taking a bigger sip of Coke. I may need some of that ibuprofen myself. I can't believe I've blurted this out. He's the last person I want to think I don't know how to enjoy sex.

"Ah," as the truth dawns on him, "Not even with toys…?" He asks. I glower at him.

Inside my head, I hear Theo's very faint cackle of laughter. Rune sits back, suddenly much more relaxed, happy even. Great. My embarrassment is making him feel better.

"Why is this honeymoon-ness so important?" I ask tightly, trying to deflect the attention away from my humiliating admission, "Is this you trying to get even somehow? In which case, I'm hardly the right choice to make a beautiful and successful TV actress jealous."

Especially when I suck at sex, I think but don't add.

"Oh, you're completely perfect," he assures me, smiling smugly, "she was always jealous of anyone in my life before she came into it. Our being an item will not make her happy."

"Wait, didn't you tell her about me when you set this all up?" I ask, aghast.

"No, I only told her about Lorelei coming. She would never have agreed if I told her I was bringing my new girlfriend, who happens to be my old summertime bestie."

"Rune!" I quietly exclaim, "Won't this make her less likely to help you? What if she causes a scene?"

"Relax, she won't make a scene in front of other people," he's grinning now, "it's a gamble, but she'll probably think it's well played. She's super competitive."

"This could go badly," I warn, feeling my stomach twist with dread.

"It could, but it's important to negotiate with her from a place of strength. I need her to see I'm getting my life back together after the cocktail of awful she added to; I completely mentally and physically shut down," he says darkly.

"I'm sorry," I say, seeing the vulnerability blooming on his face. I reach over and squeeze his hand gently, "That's understandable."

"I mean absolutely," he says, with more emphasis, squeezing lightly back, "so please don't be embarrassed about your list."

"Okay…" I say carefully, confused. What is he getting at? Did he refuse to get out of bed? Was he committed to a mental hospital? What am I not understanding here? Just as I'm going to ask for more details, he straightens and drops my hand.

"They have some fascinating old photos on the wall over there," Lorelei says enthusiastically, obliviously, as she arrives at the table out of breath. "I snapped some cool pics for my scrapbook."