Page 76 of Just (Fake) Married
She leaned in over the table and whispered, “We shouldn’t be kissing, because people who are only fake married shouldn’t kiss each other. It causes migraines with other symptoms like confusion and congestion.”
I leaned over the table to get even closer to her. Our mouths were inches apart and I could see tiny flecks of brown in her green eyes. “I’m the doctor in this marriage, and I’ll tell you what you can take to prevent migraines.”
“What?”
“Orgasms.”
“Here you go!” Amity said, slapping two plates on our table.
In front of Harmony, she put a turkey dinner special, with stuffing and cranberry relish and herbed carrots.
On my plate, I got a dinner of…garnishes?
Pickles. Orange slices. Parsley. A radish. White onions, all set on a bed of lettuce.
“Amity,” Harmony groaned.
“What? I’m out of specials,” she said with a shrug.
“You could have brought him a burger or something,” Harmony said.
“This is heart healthy,” Amity said, with a thin slice of a smile in my direction.
“It’s wonderful,” I said, and picked up an orange slice to bite into it. “Filled with vitamin C, too.”
After dinner,we picked up the animals and drove separately back to the ranch, with me right behind her. I could see the shadow of Bruce’s head occasionally as she honked at something, and I imagined Harmony talking to them.
Was she saying bad things about me?
Was I really worried about a goose and a blind dog’s opinion of me?
At home, we parked beside the house in the light from the windows, and I helped her get the animals up the front steps and into the house. Mrs. Walker was gone for the night and the only lights that were on were the lamps on the end tables and the fire that had been banked behind the screen in the fireplace.
Beside me, Harmony sighed a happy sigh, and I looked at her, surprised.
“It’s just so quiet,” she said. “I mean, I knew my house was loud, but I guess I never realized how loud.”
“Well, this one hasn’t always been this quiet,” I said. I put my keys, wallet, and phone on the table by the door that seemed to be there just for keys and wallets and phones. “When I was young it was total chaos.”
“Well, five boys,” she said, shrugging out of her coat and handing it to me.
“I can’t even tell you the number of fights Seth and Eli and Mac got into.” I hung her coat on the rack and followed her into the living room.
“Not you?” she asked, as she moved toward the fireplace like it called to her.
“Not much of a fighter. I always tried to talk my way through everything. Though one time, I did accidentally break Carter’s thumb. Something he likes to remind me of every year around Christmas.”
She seemed reluctant to leave my company, which was good. Because I was equally reluctant for her to leave. I stepped up to the fire and pushed aside the screen, to stir up the embers and add a few logs to it.
“You broke his thumb at Christmas?”
“He reached for a present of mine under the tree, and he claims it was to hand it to me, but I knew we were both after the new Mario Cart video game and he was checking all my presents to make sure it wasn’t going to anyone but him.”
Satisfied with the fire, I put back the poker and stood up.
“That’s a blood thirsty Christmas.”
“Well,” I laughed, and sat back on the couch, stretching my legs out and making sure there was plenty of room if she chose to sit on the other side of it.
