Page 26 of The Marriage Sham
Chapter Fourteen
Fen
When I asked Frances to think about making this marriage real, I guess I should have stated some sort of deadline on the thinking. I’m dying over here, wondering if she feels the same way, and yet, I told her I’d give her space. She opened up about having a crush on me ten years ago and it went to my head, filling me with false hope. I laid my heart out there, and while she didn’t laugh in my face, she didn’t give me any kind of an answer either.
It’s now been two weeks, and I still don’t have an answer. Is this one of those things where no answer is a good thing? Or no answerismy answer. See, this is yet another reason I don’t date. This stuff is complicated.
Where any normal person would confront her again and force an answer out of her, I’m enjoying our time together so much I don’t want to give any reason for it to come to an end. These last two weeks have been straight magical.
We got along well before, but our relationship has taken on a new level of intimacy. We cuddle on the couch after getting Earl to bed, watching television or talking late into the night. I sleep over in the guest bedroom more nights than not. I haven’t kissed her since our honeymoon, however, not due to lack of interest on my part.
If I don’t get an answer soon, I think I might just lose my mind.
“Fen, do you need help?” Francie calls out from the living room.
I’m just about done with the popcorn, having layered the perfect amount of butter and salt for the huge bowl. I convinced her to close her laptop and relax tonight. She’s been working non-stop the last few weeks to get ready for Nightmare Client to visit here in Love.
She’s been so stressed out, I’ve taken to making sure she eats three meals a day. Her jeans are fitting looser, which is a national tragedy in my opinion, even though she says it’s the silver lining of being so busy. I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I’ve decided to step up my compliment game so she knows just how beautiful she is and always has been.
“Nope, you just relax,” I say as I enter the living room and sit down on the couch as close to her as I can without sitting on her lap. Her eyes keep darting to her laptop charging on the dining room table.
“Don’t even think about it.” I shove the popcorn bowl into her hands and grab the remote.
“What?” Her eyes widen, and I have to laugh. She looks like she’s concentrating really hard on not looking in that direction.
“One night. Just one night to relax and de-stress. It’ll make your presentation tomorrow go that much smoother. Wait and see. And when you leave that woman speechless, you can come home and say ‘Fen, you were right.’ I’ll even record it on my phone so we always have that moment.”
She rolls her eyes at me and grabs for the remote. Popcorn tumbles over the side, and being the clean freak she is, she gives up on the remote in order to pick the popcorn off the floor. Ha, I win.
As I’m scrolling through the menu for a good movie, I see the edge of her shirt slip off her shoulder, leaving all that flawless skin uncovered. I have to be the most frustrated newlywed alive. Clenching my jaw, I promise my teeth I’ll be nicer to them once I have an answer from Francie.
“Fen, wait! You just scrolled right past all the movies!” Francie dives across me to grab the remote again, but I whip it up over our heads and out of her reach. That puts her draped directly across my lap, her laughter ringing out.
“You’re getting awfully handsy lately, Francie.” I’m teasing her, getting the payoff I want: a crimson blush attacking her cheeks. Then she gives me that look of hers, like I’m exasperating her. Pushing off my lap, she sits back up, much to my disappointment.
Giving the T.V. the same level of focus Francie is using to keep her eyes off her laptop, I find a good movie, a romantic comedy I know will make her smile and keep her mind off everything she has to do tomorrow.
And if it puts her in a romantic frame of mind, all the better.
Halfway through the movie, she snuggles in closer, and I put my arm around her so she can rest her head on my chest. This has become our normal configuration for movie watching. Although it usually takes us two nights to get through one movie because Frances says she only has an hour of time for frivolous entertainment. Her words, not mine. Tonight, we might actually get through the whole thing.
By the time the credits scroll, she’s out. Completely asleep before she got to the happy ending of the movie. I don’t have the heart to wake her, knowing she needs more rest than she’s been getting. So like the lovesick fool I am, I sit in the dark and watch her sleep. I catalogue the long lashes that fan onto her cheeks, the way her thick hair curls gently down her back, and the slight upturn to the tip of her nose. Her lips are lush and soft, begging for another kiss.
And that’s when it hits me. I don’t just want to see how things go with her and me. I’m already fully invested.
I love Francie.
I’ve always been a little bit obsessed with her, which is really an oxymoron. There’s nothing little about my level of fascination with her. In high school, I figured we were just good friends. Then when she left, I put her out of my mind as much as I could and got on with building my life. But my thoughts always drifted back to her, wondering where she was and how she was doing. Heck, even buying the house next door to her Granddaddy was probably done with the hopes of seeing her again one day in the back of my mind.
Digging in dirt all day might be how people see my job, but in reality, what keeps me coming back for more is finding buried treasure. Archeological finds aren’t pretty, shiny new objects. They are usually old, dirty, and weathered with age. But finding something unexpected, something treasured by someone somewhere in time, is a heady feeling.
Finding that I love Frances feels the same way. My heart is racing and my head feels like it might explode in excitement. I’d been sifting through life looking for casual companionship, and I found treasure instead.
So as I sit in the dark with my new revelation, I study Francie and I outline how I am going to make her see we are perfect for each other. I was an idiot in high school not to truly see her, but I see her now. No more waiting for her to make a decision. I am going full-court press with my pursuit.
* * *
Next thing I know,I’m waking up to a warm body pressed against me and a hand drawing lopsided circles on my chest. My glasses are half off my face, but once I right them, I see Francie’s head on my shoulder, eyes still closed. She mumbles something and I know she’s still asleep.
