Page 17 of The Marriage Sham
He huffs out a laugh. “No.”
Well, that was really descriptive. Guess he doesn’t want to share, which is probably smart. No need to go down that road when this marriage is temporary. I pause, trying to come up with a different line of questions. A safer topic to discuss.
“Sorry, that was an abrupt answer, but rest assured. There’s no one else.” He isn’t looking at me, but I nod anyway, not trusting myself to say the right thing. “So, tell me about your business,” he asks.
That I can do. “I started it right after high school. Mainly just organizing birthday parties for friends or people I went to junior college with. I also worked for a catering company to pay the bills, but it gave me a good glimpse into the business and even some bigger contacts. I only contract with businesses now, planning their corporate events. I have a few smaller events I’m working on right now, and one really big one. If I can make the manager happy with my work, she could really put in a good word with other large corporations.”
“Is that who you were on the phone with the other day?” He seems genuinely interested, so I continue.
“Yep, she’s a piece of work, actually. Beautiful, super creative, but a handful too. She wants everything perfect, which I understand since she’s responsible for the event. I just hope I can come through for her.”
He sets down his knife and puts his hand on my back. “I’m sure you will. Maybe I can help out a bit around here, so you can get more of your work done. When I’m not traveling, I work from home. I can do that at your place while watching Earl. In fact, it would keep up appearances if I’m over here most of the time.”
“You’d do that?” A few hours of time to make the phone calls I need to make without worrying about Granddaddy waking up and needing me sounds heavenly.
He rubs my back absently, his touch leaving tingles down my limbs. “Of course. That’s part of why we got married, right? To help out Earl.”
I try to stay guarded around Fen, but he keeps breaking down my walls with his thoughtfulness. I smile at him and pass him another handful of washed lettuce. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
We keep making dinner, passing the time with light conversation about our work, various hobbies, and friends. Occasionally there’s silence, but it’s a friendly one, surprisingly not awkward at all. In fact, I’d dare say we’re becoming friends.
Which is weird, considering I’d left Love, Georgia hating him.
* * *
“Francie,give me more of those potatoes, would ya?” Granddaddy is eyeing the bowl of mashed potatoes like a starving man, which is good news for his road to recovery. He could stand to put some muscle back on.
I give Fen the evil eye while I dish out some potatoes on Granddaddy’s plate. “That’s your fault, you know.”
He shrugs, eyes wide with innocence. “That he wants more potatoes?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Fenwick Whittington. He’s never called me that before, and just a few days of you around and Granddaddy’s using that horrible nickname too!”
Fen chuckles while I go back to eating the dinner we prepared. Secretly, I kind of like that Fen has a nickname for me. No one else ever shortened my name before, and the use of it seems intimate. Like we aren’t basically strangers.
Granddaddy coughs, and it sounds like he’s got something in his chest. I’ll have to talk to his doctor tomorrow. “You didn’t show me your honeymoon pictures. I don’t know why you only show me your wedding pictures.”
I squint at Granddaddy. “We just got married today, Granddaddy.”
He squints back at me, a confused stare-down happening over the mashed potatoes going cold. “What are you talking about, young lady? I don’t like when you try to confuse me. I wanna see those honeymoon pictures.”
He’s getting agitated, his face turning a shade of red that doesn’t look healthy. I look to Fen then back to Granddaddy. I need to calm him down. Quick.
“Sorry, I didn’t understand your question. I don’t have the pictures here right now. How about I show them to you later?”
Granddaddy stares at me a little longer, and slowly the puckered eyebrows relax and he goes back to eating. Placated, for now.
I’ve lost my appetite. I wish there was some kind of a sign that would alert me to which version of Granddaddy I was talking to at any given time: clear and all there, or confused and lost.
Feeling someone’s stare, I look up and catch Fen’s eye. He reaches across the table and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. I don’t know that he can help me with this, but just to know someone’s here with me is nice.
More than nice.
