Page 8 of The Marriage Sham
Earl’s bushy eyebrows have scrunched together, and he looks none too pleased with her. “You said you’d get married before I die. Isn’t that why he’s here?” He points his thumb at me, and it feels like my heart just might give up on me. I want to catch up with Frances, and sure, I had a bit of a crush on her in high school, but I’m not looking to get married any time soon.
But strangely, I feel the need to protect again and jump in before this interesting family argument can escalate any further.
“Can I help you make dinner?” I ask a bit too loudly, jumping up and holding my hand out to Frances.
She looks between me and her granddaddy before coming to a decision. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” She doesn’t take my hand, but she does spin around and start toward the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to make sure I’m following.
“Be right back, Earl,” I whisper in his ear as I follow his granddaughter.
Once we’re alone in the kitchen, I see her drop her head to her chest, her back to me. I can feel the waves of frustration coming off her. I can only imagine coming back to Love to take care of Earl isn’t easy, emotionally or physically.
“Wanna talk about it?” I stay away, telling by her rigid posture that she won’t welcome physical touch. She doesn’t know me, doesn’t trust me. Yet. But if I can help her talk it out, maybe she’ll lose that edge of desperation that tears at my sense of justice. She shouldn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.
She nods her head slowly but still doesn’t turn around. I give her space and time, hoping she’ll talk when she’s ready. A full minute passes before I hear a sniffle, then a slight shudder of her shoulder, and that’s all I can handle before I’m lunging across the kitchen and spinning her around.
Ducking her head into my chest, she falls into my embrace and lets the sobs come. I try to ignore how right it feels to have her in my arms and try to offer comfort in her time of need. Her sobs shake her whole body, so I rub my hands up and down her back, letting her get it out. She’s so warm and soft and smells like flowers. Whispering encouragement into her ears, words I don’t even comprehend, I let my nose sink further into her hair, smelling her scent, memorizing everything I can about her.
All too soon, she unclenches her fists where they’ve gathered up my shirt and steps back, swiping at her face to try to remove all traces of her tears. Even a foot away from me, she feels too far. How a person can become so necessary to another in a matter of minutes is beyond me, but I don’t question it. I’m a scientist, dealing in facts and proved hypotheses, but even I know some things can’t be explained.
“It’s not a weakness, you know?” I whisper. “Crying is just a necessary sharing of emotions. I can’t imagine taking care of your grandfather would be easy.”
Her eyes, rimmed with red, gaze at me wearily. “But I don’t even know you.”
My heart gallops out of my chest, and I know what I have to do. It’s crazy. I’m certifiable. I’ve never been happier to discover I’m insane.
I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life.
“You do know me.” I take off my glasses, like some kind of modern day Clark Kent. “I’m Fen.”
Comically, her eyes widen like she’s seen a ghost, then scrunch together as she scrutinizes my features. Then her gaze drops down the length of my body before snapping back to my face. A hand flutters up to cover her mouth, and she backs up another step.
“Let’s give Earl what he wants, huh? Let’s get married.”
