But now that John had the prospect of a regular income, a minor splurge did not seem inappropriate. They were at that age when they felt they had everything they could ever want because they had each other. Who cared about fancy cars and penthouse apartments and dinner at the Rainbow Room?

They’d finished school and were trying this whole being-an-adult thing, even if their take on being grown-ups involved creating entertainment for children. At least, that was John’s goal. Annie was less sure where she was headed.

Her dream had always been to write and illustrate books for young readers, but what chance did she have against the millions of others pursuing the same dream? So she’d put her résumé into several web and graphic design places. Being creative with a screen, a mouse, and a keypad was not her first choice, but you had to make a living, right? It beat waiting tables or being one of those poor bastards hawking umbrellas on a street corner when it started raining.

“This one,” Annie said, pointing into a display case.

They’d found their way to a comic book store that sold much more than adventures of Aquaman and Wolverine. It carried action figures, models of ships from Star Wars and Star Trek, and every version of the Batmobile Bruce Wayne had raced through Gotham City in pursuit of the Joker.

And it had watches.

“Let’s have a look,” John said.

The kid behind the counter unlocked the cabinet and placed the watch in John’s hand. On its face was not Mickey Mouse, but that oddball character whose goal of blowing up the earth was thwarted at every turn by Bugs Bunny.

Marvin the Martian.

He had his arms folded across his chest and an annoyed expression on his face, like, Every time I want to kill all of humanity I can’t, and I am soooo angry.

John hooked it around his wrist and admired it. “What do you think?”

“What do you think?” Annie replied.

“I think it’s perfect. Quirky.”

He didn’t bother to take it off so that it could be placed in its factory packaging. Paid for it and wore it home, where they dined on macaroni and cheese made from a box, killed off a bottle of the cheapest sparkling bubbly the local wine shop carried, then screwed their brains out before watching Letterman.

God, it was a great life.

One day, the two of them sitting at the breakfast table, John said, “You wanna get married this week?”

Annie took a sip of coffee. “I got nothin’ planned. How’s Friday?”

They called family and friends, keeping the number to under twenty, since that was the number of guests you could invite to a city hall ceremony, then invited everyone back to their place for wings and beer.