Page 24 of The Marriage Sham
Chapter Thirteen
Frances
I’m having one of those days where everything is going awry, and I’m one wrong look away from bursting into tears. The source of my angst is clear: a certain blonde with a mouth on her. After her little visit during our lunch yesterday, I completely shut down, refusing to speak to Fen about it. The shame was overpowering and quite frankly, I needed time to lick my wounds in private.
Even though she makes my skin crawl, I can’t help but feel like Helena’s comments were a blessing in disguise. The last few weeks have been nothing short of amazing with Fen by my side. I’ve come to rely on him for his help, his friendship, his touches when I need them the most.
Which is flat out ridiculous. I’m being reckless with my own heart. He’s temporary. Our marriage is nothing but a sham, the length of which is determined by Granddaddy’s lifespan. Helena’s comments were like a bucket of cold water to the face.
Fen isn’t mine. He never was.
It’s time to stop acting like a besotted young teen and get my life back on track. I have an ailing grandfather and a business to run. No more distractions in the form of hot archeologists with perfect hair, nerdy glasses, and sweet gestures. I learned my lesson when I was eighteen—I don’t need to learn it again.
“Granddaddy, I told you, I’ll only be gone for an hour, tops.” I tuck the blanket in around him, equal parts concerned and frustrated that I already told him five times what I’m planning on doing today. He’s forgetting more and more. It isn’t his fault, but as his caregiver, it feels like I’m losing my own mind repeating myself a bazillion times.
“How’s my favorite patient feeling today?” The nurse that took care of him when we went on our honeymoon breezes through the door, Fen at her heels.
“What’s she doing here?” Granddaddy asks me, clearly needing another reminder.
“She’ll be staying with you while I’m at the town barbecue. Don’t you give her a hard time now, ya hear me?” I raise an eyebrow at him, my look as stern as I can make it while staring into the face of the confused old man who has my whole heart.
His eyes clear and his mouth turns up in a smile. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do now that you told me not to, Frances.”
I chuckle with him. “You always were an ornery thing.”
Fen puts his hand on my back. “Ready to go, love?”
I nod, kiss Granddaddy on the cheek, and leave the room to find my shoes. I got up at five this morning to get in a couple hours of work before Granddaddy woke up. The town barbecue isn’t where I want to spend my afternoon, especially knowing Helena might be in attendance, but Harold had guilted me into going, saying I needed to make an appearance or people would start talking. I figure after our run-in with Helena yesterday, people are already talking.
The more to prove, the higher the shoes.
That’s one of my life rules. I just feel more confident in tall shoes. Butt kickers, that’s what they are. Who knows. Maybe they’ll give me the courage to actually say something back to Helena instead of just sitting there, mute, taking her crap.
Speaking of mute, Fen is quieter than usual, which makes sense given I told him to leave me alone last night. I’m sure he’s wondering which version of Frances he’s taking to the barbecue. I don’t mean to be hot and cold with him, and I’m certainly not playing games with him, but I have to protect my heart. He broke it once. I can’t sign up for that again.
But here we are in public again, having to act like a happily married couple. As his hand settles on the small of my back, we walk toward the cluster of people spread across the lawn in the park. I scan faces, thankful beyond belief not to spy a particular blonde amongst the townsfolk.
“Fen! Nice to see you!” A man about Fen’s age calls out as we approach. More heads turn our way, and I plaster a smile onto my face and hope it looks real. Without Helena present, I should be able to relax, but I find lying to the people I grew up around is harder than I thought.
We shake hands as I’m introduced to a couple, then another. Everyone asks about Granddaddy, and I tell them a sugarcoated version of the truth. Fen’s hand remains on my back the entire time, occasionally rubbing in a circular pattern, like he’s soothing me without even thinking about it.
It warms my insides, and it also gives me courage.
“Come on. Let’s grab a plate before all the good stuff’s gone.” Fen leads me toward the buffet table where we load up our plates and then move to a shaded area beneath a tree.
“Reminds me of our picnic in Savannah.” He settles on the ground, but not before spreading out his jacket on the ground next to him for me to sit on. The little gesture, on top of all the other little gestures, is enough to melt the ice I’ve built up around my heart since last night. Helena is the problem, not Fen. I can be friends with him without losing my heart. I’m sure of it.
I give him a genuine smile, and we tuck into our food, a private bubble in a public forum. My feet, in their sky high shoes, are relieved to be off duty for a bit.
“So. I was hoping to talk to you today,” Fen says, staring at his plate like the key to life might reside there in Betty’s potato salad.
“That would be great. What’s on your mind?” The food turns to sawdust, so I put my plate on the ground and my hand on his knee. My touch forces his head up.
His eyes are soft, the way they always look when he’s looking at me, but his jaw clenches. “What made you leave Love so fast after graduation?”
A spike of adrenaline runs through my system, and I know the time has arrived. I need to tell him what happened and how I felt about him in high school. He’s already seen me brought down by Helena, so what’s a little more humiliation to add?
I’ll tell the story, but I can’t be made to look him in the eye while I tell it. “Remember when we became friends junior year?” When I see him nod in my peripheral vision, I carry on. “I actually had a huge crush on you. I used to talk Helena’s ear off about you, every conversation we had, every time you looked at me. All deciphered and analyzed over a Coca-Cola shared between best friends. I didn’t have a lot of friends in high school, but I didn’t care. I had Helena. So, senior year, when she and I went to prom, I was planning to make my move. Figured it was my last chance to do something about this crush, you know?”
