Page 43 of This Means War

Tom freezes and his shoulders sag for the briefest second before he turns back to face us.

“He didn’t what?” I turn to Lydia in confusion. Her face has gone white, and her hands are shaking.

“You did, didn’t you? I can’t believe it!” she cries.

“What is going on?” I demand loudly, and Lydia finally turns to me.

“He sent the state the wrong marriage license, didn’t you, Tom?”

Tom doesn’t answer, just stands there with a defensive expression.

Horror grips me as I stare at Tom. “You sent the wrong marriage license?” I repeat in disbelief.

“He did,” Lydia replies evenly. “He sent themarriage license with the fake date on it, so now he can’t risk us exposing Arnold’s corruption since he doesn’t want Arnold’s campaign retaliating by trying to dig up something on you. If they start digging and find the falsified marriage license, we could all end up in prison.” Her voice goes up an octave at the end and she starts pacing. My blood runs cold. Prison.

“Oh my gosh, I’m going to give birth in a prison cell!” Lydia continues speaking, going into stream of consciousness mode as she paces. “Do you think they make those prison jumpsuits in maternity sizes?” She moans. “Oh my goodness, I don’t think I can subsist on gruel. I’m going to have to rewatchShawshank Redemption. Or maybe readThe Count of Monte Cristoso I can learn how to plot revenge against Tom while I’m imprisoned. Do you think they sell shivs on Amazon prime? No, that’s stupid, I obviously can’t bring a shiv in with me, I’ll just have to watch a YouTube video ahead of time so I know how to fashion one out of a toothbrush or—”

“Lydia!” I cut off her stride, taking her by the shoulders. “We are not going to prison.”

“We’re not?” Her eyes plead with me.

“That’s right,” Tom finally speaks. “None of us are going to prison, because no one is ever going to find out about the fraudulent date. This may be hard for you to believe, but this sort of thing happens all the time in politics. I did what I had to do to keep Cole’s reputation in check. Honestly, you should both be thanking me for doing what you didn’t have thenerve to do. You think Cole would have any chance of getting elected as mayor, yet alone as a senator one day, if he got a reputation as a womanizer? His career would be over before it even started.” Tom slices the air with his hand. “Luckily, I took matters into my own hands and did what I had to do. Now Cole is just a lucky guy whose wife got pregnant on their honeymoon. We just have to stay the course, run a clean race, and we can get Cole elected.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Tom has clearly gone off the deep end. Still, I nod along with what he’s saying, desperate to get him out of the house without him knowing I think he’s nuts. Then, once he’s gone, I can handle the situation without him going on the defensive.

“Wait, you can’t actually be agreeing with him right now?” Lydia cries incredulously. “This is insanity!”

“Tom,” I turn to him, “Lydia and I clearly need to have a conversation so I can bring her around to our way of thinking. Would you mind leaving us for now, and I’ll be in touch later about how I can gain some ground back after this smartboard move of Arnold’s.”

Lydia gapes at me, but I ignore her.

“I knew you’d see things my way,” Tom says briskly. “Give me a call if you need help making her see sense.” He eyes Lydia distastefully, and I force myself not to retort. I can’t believe I hired this clown to be my campaign manager.

Lydia is still seething when I get back fromwalking Tom out, but before she can jump down my throat, I hold a hand up.

“Hold up, Lydia, it’s not what you think. I completely agree with you. I just had to get him out of the house without letting him know that I agree with you.” Her mouth, which she’d opened to lay into me, snaps shut. “I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to strike out against us, so I just pretended to agree with him.”

“Wow.” Relief settles across her features. “You totally had me convinced.” She studies me admiringly. “Who knew you were so wily.”

“I would have thought my dominance in our prank war would have established how wily I am.”

Lydia shakes her head. “Dominance? Please. If you were Wily during our prank war, then I was the Roadrunner, ready and waiting with an anvil.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, and for a second, we both grin at each other. Then the reality of our situation hits us both again and she groans. “So what are we going to do now? This is really bad.”

“We just have to handle it,” I say wearily.

Lydia scrunches up her nose. “You sound like Tom.”

“Yeah, well, that’s politics for you. Messy situations arise and somebody has to handle them. Unfortunately, in this case, we can’t rely on my campaign manager since he’s the one who caused the messy situation, so I’ll just have to figure out what to do on my own.”

“Or,” Lydia hesitates for a second, then presseson, “I don’t know…I hate to be the one to say it, but maybe you should call your dad.”

“I don’t need my dad.” I instantly bristle.

“Are you sure? Because, unlike us, he’s spent his whole career handling tricky situations like this. And, frankly—”

“Lydia,” I interject more forcefully, “I don’t need my dad.”

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