Page 19 of This Means War

“Sneaking out for your lunchtime wedding.” She shakes her head. “You know, I’ve always thought having a clandestine rendezvous would be more romantic.”

“I’ll buy you lunch at Chipotle after, how’s that?”

She laughs, the sound like Pavlov’s bell conditioning my heart to leap in my chest. Stupid. I look away. She doesn’t like me, and I refuse to be the first of us to decide I like the other.

“Uh, we’ll need two witnesses,” I go on, “I can bring Tom.”

“Oh goody, Tom.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m so glad he’ll be at our wedding. Maybe our other witness can be Hannibal Lector or Darth Vader.”

“Tom has good intentions,” I say, “and he has a lot of experience. Really knows his stuff.” Not to mention, he’s not at all affiliated with my dad. I can win this election without my dad’s help. Even if he doesn’t think so.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” she retorts.

“Anyway,” I bypass this comment, “tomorrow at noon, we’ll get married. If you can’t find a witness, maybe Tom’s wife can come.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll find my own witness.”

Chapter 15

Lydia

Finding a witnesshas proven harder than I thought, namely because I haven’t told anyone besides Jamie about my pregnancy and subsequent plans to get married, and Jamie has informed me that she can’t just leave her fourth hour students unattended to come be a witness at my courthouse wedding. Lame.

“Why can’t you wait until the weekend?” she asks. “What’s the rush?” I haven’t told her about Cole’s mayoral campaign. She already has a low opinion of him on account of him having gotten me pregnant. I don’t want her to realize he’s only marrying me because he doesn’t want to lose an election. This is actually something I try not to think about myself. I mean, it’s not as if I have a whole lot of other options. It’s Cole or a life of single parenthood. Sure, maybe in a few years I could see if there are any guys out there willing to date a single mother, but let’s be realistic. If I’m a twenty-something guy who’s a good catch, why would Ichoose a single mother over all the other non-mother dating candidates? That’s right, I wouldn’t. So, at the very least I’d have to wait until I’m thirty, since at that point the dating pool will have thinned out a little, before I could even dream of finding someone.

Panic is rising up in my chest, and I shove it back down. I haven’t been able to get control of my racing thoughts since I saw the plus sign on that test. I just need to focus on the task at hand. Finding a witness. Preferably one that will annoy Cole. Bonus points if it annoys Tom too. That’s when it hits me. I smile to myself as I pull out my phone.

Cole

Tom and I arestanding at the top of the front steps of the courthouse when I see her. It’s a warm day, so she doesn’t have a coat over her dress. It’s the blush-colored one she wore to the rehearsal dinner, and while you’d think having already seen her in it would’ve dimmed the effect, she still takes my breath away. Her head is thrown back in a laugh, and I trace the curve of her neck with my eyes before I realize what I’m doing and quickly shift my gaze away. I wouldn’t want to be caught ogling my soon-to-be wife now, would I?

I look over to the person who presumably made her laugh and see a woman who looks to be in her forties striding alongside her. Her roommate? I’m musing about how she’s way older than I would’veexpected, when I see it. Her name tag. Hilda.She brought the cashier from her grocery store to be her witness.

Crap. Tom is not going to be happy. He was so worried about being discreet that he wanted me to call and tell her that I’d bring both witnesses, but I knew she’d never go for that. Plus I’d assumed she’d bring her roommate, and she’d already told her everything anyway. It’s only when Lydia’s gaze meets mine and she smirks that I realize she planned this. She knew bringing Hilda would upset Tom. I repress a scowl. She won’t win this one.

I paste a bright smile on my face and aim it right at her, then turn to Tom, ready to perform damage control. I once watched my dad spin one of his candidates’ illegal hunting excursions into a narrative on the need to control deer populations in suburban communities. The guy had been hunting for elk. Needless to say, I learned from the best.

To my irritation, Tom is already peering at Hilda with a puzzled expression.

“Is that a Meijer name tag?” he asks, his voice dripping with displeasure. “Cole, what is going on here? I thought you said she was bringing her roommate.”

“Tom, Tom, Tom,” I begin in my most placating voice. I have to work quickly as the two of them are now at the bottom of the steps. “Didn’t I tell you about Lydia’s friendship with Hilda?”

“No,” he says flatly.

“Well, Lydia has a friend named Hilda who, yes,works as a cashier at Meijer, but is also the definition of discreet.” As I speak, I pray I’m right about this.

Tom’s face is red. “She bought a cashier as her witness! Do you know how many people cashiers see and speak with on a daily basis, Cole?” He doesn’t wait for my response, just barrels on, “Everyone! They see everyone Cole! It’s like you want this scandal to come out!”

“Tom, Tom, Tom,” I repeat, “don’t you see the potential here? This is the perfect photo op. Let me paint you a picture.” I lift my hand up and move it across the air as I dictate the potential newspaper headline, “Mayoral Candidate Cares About Blue Collar Workers,” he looks unmoved so I go on, moving my hand to a new line, “Subheading, Facing the Issues Together.”

Tom’s face remains stony, but he has no time to reply because Lydia and Hilda have now reached the top step.

“Hi, future husband.” Lydia grins wickedly at me, then looks at Tom, innocent doe eyes replacing her conniving ones. “Tom, nice to see you again.”

“Lydia,” his tone is clipped, “and who do you have here?”

“Oh, this is my friend Hilda,” she says brightly. “She’s here to be a witness.”

---