Page 79 of Unhinged

Walking over to the small mirror on the wall, I notice my hair and how the dress droops in the front, showcasing my tits—probably my best assets. I’m impressed with her style.

The door flies open, and Candi says, “Let’s do this.” She hands me three pink flowers and a white one and then holds out her hand to take. Probably so I don’t run off.

Some slow song is playing on the jukebox, and I tremble. Before leaving the kitchen, she asks, “Do you want to walk out alone or—”

“With you is fine.”

Candi pushes open the door, and I see Milt in front of the side window that lights up this end of the room, and he’s talking to Greg. With his back to me, I see he’s still wearing his blue jeans and Matchbox Twenty shirt. Greg Rodwell is still the hottest guy ever.

Milt looks up at me and grins, reminiscent of a decaying jack-o’-lantern. I smile back because he’s been so nice to me.

Greg turns to look at me as I walk over, and his causal grin falls. What did I do? Is he changing his mind?

I stop next to him and smile. His returns as his eyes travel over me.

Candi tries to take my flowers, but I shake my head. I need something to grip if I can’t still hold her hand.

Milt says, “Okay. This will be the express version. Greg, repeat after me.”

Greg clears his throat and repeats, “I, Gregory Richard Rodwell, take you, Simone Amanda Garrison, to enter into marriage, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.” I see Milt changed them some for our situation.

Milt says, “Okay, pretty lady, same.”

I avoid looking into Greg’s eyes. “I, Simone Amanda Garrison, take you, Gregory Richard Rodwell, to enter into marriage, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.”

Milt reaches into his pocket and hands Greg a beer cap. “Give this to Simone and repeat after me.” I grin at his creativity.

He takes it, and after Milt recites, Greg repeats, “With this cap, I marry you, Simone.” He then flips it into the air, and I catch the Budweiser cap with one hand and a giggle.

Milt hands me a Michelob cap, and I repeat, “With this cap, I marry you too, Greg.” I can’t do the flippy thing, so I toss it to Greg, and he catches it.

Everything Milt says about God and North Carolina law is a blur after that. I clutch my flowers so hard the stems bend while the bottle cap bites it into my hand.

“You may now…shake hands?”

Greg holds up his fist and closing my hand around the bottle cap, I bump my fist into his. Romantic.

Milt says, “Congratulations, Greg and Simone Rodwell. You’re married. Okay. I have a license to sign and a toilet to scrub.”

Voices and noises in the kitchen break us apart. Greg mutters, “Well, I guess Amos is about to congratulate us too.” He widens his sexy brown eyes in mock horror. “And so the fun begins. Don’t forget to take a picture of the signed license to send to your dad with a mammoth fuck you.”

Numb, I nod and go into the kitchen but bypass Amos to change my clothes. I don’t need a reminder that I’m married in name only. After Milt signs it, Candi takes a picture since my phone is in the locker room. I stare at our license, but it doesn’t make it any more real.

When I’m dressed and put on my coat, I walk into the hallway to hear Amos. “How could you do this, Greg? Why didn’t you wait until you talked to me?”

“Because I knew you’d say this shit, Amos! Who cares? We did it. Moving on.”

“I’m not obtuse. I know what you’re doing.”

“Are you an acute angle? Because you’re certainly not a right one.”

“Greg, this makes Simone your—”

“Shut up. I know what we did.”

Walking into the kitchen, I say, “It’s business as usual, Amos. I’ll see you at home.”

He says, “Simone, I’d like a word with you,” but I leave. I just got fucking married, and it’s not even a big deal to the groom. Though, I knew that’s the way it’d be.

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