Page 28 of The Marriage Deal
Dad chuckles. “She’ll keep you on your toes, that’s for sure.”
I roll my eyes mainly to cut the hold Briggs has on me. To Dad, I mutter, “I’m not that bad.”
Dad knocks a knuckle to his chest. “Kiddo, I’ve got a steel plated heart because of your antics.”
“Oh, please,” I echo Mom.
Dad cuts into his steak, but warns Briggs as he does, “You be sure to watch this one closely. Before you know it, she’ll have you wrapped around her little finger bowing to her heart’s every desire.”
“I’m prepared to kneel.” There’s a roughness to Briggs’ voice that I feelinsideme.
“Oh, my God.” Mom claps her hands in front of her chest. “He’s perfect!”
I slide my eyes to Briggs, hoping that he can read the warning in them. Of course, I know he must romance my parents to some degree. I just don’t want them hurt by the loss of him. Because the loss of him is inevitable.
This isn’t real. And we have to be compassionate about the people in our lives. Because the reality I hadn’t considered until this moment is that this is going to affect more than just our lives. What we’re doing together, faking love, is going to affect everyone we love.
Everyone I love.
Briggs touches his hand to my thigh, squeezing gently. There’s a touch of question in his eyes. A look of concern darkening the green as he peers at me. Inside my chest, my heart feels funny. Slick and oily.
I’m no longer certain I’m doing the right thing, debts be damned.
Then Dad invites Briggs fishing, and Briggs accepts.
That’s when the wave of reality crashes over my head, threatening to drown me.
It’s sink or swim.
I’ve never been a sinker, so I let a smile hitch mylips and settle into the role I’ve agreed to play as Briggs’ girlfriend and soon-to-be-wife.
13
MELTING POT OF WISDOM
LILAH
This road will eternally feel like hot summer days bleeding into cool evenings paired with spiced teas and Nan’s homemade jam on fresh baked bread for dinner. Even now, with my foot on the gas pedal, I can feel the dusty residue of a rich day spent running barefoot beside Dakota.
We’d play hard, weaving through fruit trees and wildflowers buzzing with honeybees. Through Nan’s kitchen that always smelled like the promise of comfort food, before ending up in the cool, clear water of the lake.
Tree lined and winding like a ribbon catching sharply in the wind, I follow the road down into the valley I’ll always associate with childhood comforts and freedom. It’s passed the low oak assembled storefront where Nan peddles her jams, spices, herbs, and blends of specialty teas. Tacked to the walls of the storeare handcrafted blankets, woven dream catchers, and carved wood totems. The trinkets in that small shop are plentiful and magical. I’d been able to sit in that little shop for hours, daydreaming about a realm on the cusp of our own where simple little delicacies existed in abundance. Where life was simpler, and so muchmore.
It's comical how I’ve always been so enchantingly attracted to the simplicities of life. The wealth of the land and the value in a small kitchen filled with love.
Now look at me, so desperate for money that I’m marrying myself off to a man I know nothing about.
It’s been a week of dating. A week of faking devotion to a man I’m only just getting to know. Only, I don’t really feel I have a right to know him. What we’re doing isn’t real. It’s transactional. Cold.
I’m not good at cold.
I’m depressed. My life is depressing.
This is always the place I’ve come to for comfort. It’s second home.
I touch the brake with my toes as Nan’s little house comes into view, nestled tenderly into the nook of a lush, yet rocky valley.
I park my car as a text comes through. It’s Briggs.
