Page 10 of The Marriage Sham
Chapter Six
Fen
I’m sitting around the table, eating dinner with Earl and Frances, talking about a future that’s not real. But everything about it feels real. Feels like something I desperately want. Frances is right, we don’t really know each other, at least not the grown up versions of each other. Maybe our fake marriage can be that chance to get to know each other. It doesn’t seem like she’d have given me the time of day otherwise, so I count my lucky stars for this opportunity to step up and be her husband.
What’s in it for you, she asked earlier. I didn’t get to answer, and even if I had, my reply wouldn’t have been what she wanted to hear. Because what’s in it for me is everything.
I’ve been lonely for years, going through the motions every day with my job, missing that special someone who I can share everything with. I’ve always known I’m the type to need to be in a relationship. The problem is, I chose the wrong person.
Dating one woman for all four years of college in Atlanta was the ideal situation for me. I thought I’d found The One. I had every intention of marrying her the moment we graduated. That is, until I came to her apartment one afternoon right before graduation, excited to tell her about the job offer I’d just gotten from a top archeology team in the United States. I used the key she’d given me two years prior, letting myself in, daydreaming of how excited she’d be for me. For us. For our future.
That’s when I heard the moans and groans, and I’m sure everyone but me could have guessed the scene I walked in on. As for me, I was shell-shocked. Completely blindsided. My whole plan for the future went up in smoke in an instant, and I wondered if there were any women out there who wanted what I did: stability, love, a best friend forever.
The experience tainted my view of the big city. I graduated and moved back home to Love the next day. When it didn’t look like I’d be producing grandkids any time soon, my parents retired and moved to the coast. Logically, I knew they hadn’t given up on me, but it felt like they had. Didn’t help that I’d given up on me too.
I know I am awkward with my corny archeology jokes and the nerdy glasses. Even Betty thinks I need more stylish clothes. I’m not looking for nights out at a club with loud music and drinking. I just want a simple life with a good woman by my side.
And now that I’ve seen her again in the flesh, I want Frances.
“So, when’s the big day?” Earl asks from behind his napkin, wiping off his mouth at the end of dinner.
Frances and I share a quick look, neither of us having a ready answer. “We haven’t set a date yet. We’re going to talk about that tomorrow. Right, Frances?”
She gulps down some water. “Yep, that sounds good. Tomorrow.” She nods her head, and I bet she’s trying to convince herself more than her grandfather.
I cut her some slack, knowing instinctively she’ll need some time to process everything we’ve agreed to tonight. Shoving my chair back, I collect the plates and take them to the kitchen. Frances gets Earl set up in front of the television in the living room before coming back in to help me finish cleaning up.
“Thank you for your help,” she says formally when she puts the last dish in the dishwasher and I hang the towel up.
I wink at her. “That’s what husbands do, right?”
She rolls her eyes, and I think this just might be fun.
* * *
The next morning,I head over to Earl’s early before work. I have reports to fill out following the testing from the fire, but they can wait another hour. I need to lock in the plans that swirled through my head last night as I tried to sleep. An auburn haired temptress featured in my dreams, teasing me with the possibility that this marriage could be real. In the light of day, I know it’s far from genuine, but I have a few ideas to make it work for the both of us.
“Frances?” I knock on the screen door, not wanting to disturb Earl if I can help it.
She comes barreling around the corner again, phone to her ear, that beautiful hair of hers down and bouncing along her shoulders, trailing down her back. She lets me in with a finger in the air, her message clear: she needs a minute.
I watch her as she paces the foyer, clearly not happy with whomever she’s talking to.
“I know I said I’d work on it, but I called and the hotel won’t allow even one animal in the ballroom. After some prodding, they did say they’d allow animals in the parking lot. So if you still really want those alpacas, we can change the layout so the party flows out the ballroom and into the parking lot. Carpet can be brought in to cover the asphalt. We can put up a big white tent with string lights so no one even realizes they’re in the parking lot.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but her idea sounds brilliant to me. I can’t fathom who’d want alpacas at a fancy party, but then again, some people are just plain weird. A warmth spreads through me as I watch her work. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, and there’s something appealing about seeing her run her business with such confidence.
She nods some more, rolls her eyes when her gaze meets mine, and then hangs up a few moments later.
“Tough client, huh?” I smile at her, happy to see her this morning.
“Ugh, yes, tough client. I don’t know why I agreed to work on her gig. She’s notorious for being a pain in the neck, but she can also tell a lot of people about my services, so I’m trying to tough it out.” She tucks the cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and then gestures behind her. “Wanna come in?”
There’s nothing I want more. “I gotta get to work, actually. Wanted to come by and talk to you about our plan.”
She takes a deep breath. “Ah, I see. The plan.”
I come closer to her, hoping she sees my sincerity. “I want to go down to the justice of the peace as soon as possible and get married. For real.”
