Page 108 of My Wife
“What if we set up our exes?”
“They’re related.”
“Oh, right.”
“Even if they weren’t, that’s insane.”
“And getting married isn’t?”
I open the oven only to see the cake fall, sagging in the middle, along with my spirits.
Liam says, “We could try to kill ‘em with kindness.”
“I’m not killing anyone. Sheesh. Take it easy tiger. Manage your anger and keep the fights on the ice.”
“I’m surprised that wasn’t your first solution.”
“Sadly, I think the Coogan siblings are immune to my aggressive positivity.”
“No one is beyond hope and restoration,” Liam says softly.
I turn to him, realizing how desperate he must feel to offer a Jess-ism. “You’re right.”
Everything in me wants to hug him … and marry him? No, that can’t be right. It’s not for real. It’s just a matter of convenience, more or less the way the nuptials with Rexlan were, for his mother to gain access to alimony, anyway.
* * *
That night,I tell Grandma Dolly the whole saga … of the cake falling.
She signs, “But what’s really on your mind?”
I plop heavily into the chair at the kitchen table and tell her about my confusing feelings for Liam.
I leave out the part about Rexlan reaching out to me—he contacted me on behalf of Sorsha, demanding repayment for the wedding. Otherwise, I risk facing the wrath of the lizard gods. Didn’t even tell Liam that part because there’d be fists, flames, and an army of angry hockey players on the attack, resulting in blood and possibly jail time.
I also don’t mention Liam suggesting we get married until the cookies come out along with some milk.
The longer we sit there, the more empty the cookie plate gets, and the more I divulge, until she knows every single secret.
Grandma Dolly signs, “Just think of all the two-for-one deals you could qualify for. Plus use of the carpool lane, tax advantages, and you’d always have someone to sit with on theme park rides.”
I laugh, thankful for her pragmatic approach. “But it would be a marriage of convenience.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Signs the girl who just told me about her feelings for a certain Knights hockey defenseman.”
I ask about her husband and their wedding. Her eyes turn misty. “You know my real name is Dorothy, but Dell called me Dolly, like the singer, Dolly Parton. Said if that woman could sign like me, she’d be a famous millionaire.”
There was definitely a resemblance when my grandmother was younger. I’ve seen the photos. She was hot stuff!
Her smile is soft and sad. “He loved the way I moved my hands and communicated. The way I styled my hair, my eyes, smile, the cakes.” She tips her head back with laughter. “That I never missed a trick.”
I sign, “I hope to find love like that someday.”
Her lips ripple and she keeps her hands in her lap as if she’s holding something back … I guess not everything needs to be seen or heard to be communicated.
Later that night, while I can’t sleep, in my head, I see the graceful motion of my grandmother’s fingers and the signs,What if I already did find love?
* * *
