2
“So tell me about your life with Graeme. How did you end up married to the world’s most popular snack cracker?” I asked.
We’d succeeded at not killing each other in the night, or during our halfhearted hotel breakfast. (Lisa had picked at a croissant while I dismembered a muffin top.) Traffic out of Orlando was light, so I thought it safe to try limited conversation.
“Ha ha,” Lisa said, in a droll tone. “A friend introduced us about five years ago. We hit it off, and we dated for almost a year before we got married.”
“But no kids yet?” I asked. Stupid question. You’d think I would have noticed them in the room last night, fighting for the TV remote.
“No,” Lisa said. “Not for lack of trying.”
“So Mom lied when she warned us how easy it was to get knocked up?”
Lisa managed a half sm
