Page 40 of The Auction
My chest was heaving, though. I bit down on my lip hard so I wouldn’t cry.
“Can I have any app I want?” Shit. My voice cracked.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Cool. What are the best dating apps?”
He looked at me then, so freaking aggravated…I couldn’t help it.
My straight face folded and I started to laugh and laugh until I was holding my sides together.
Until I didn’t know if I would ever stop.
“You think you’re funny?” he asked me in his stern voice.
“Yes,” I said, still laughing. “You should have seen your face.”
“I’m going to bed. Don’t finish that without me,” he said, pointingto the TV.
“I hear they get him,” I said. Yes, I’d been isolated by Herb. But I’d always found ways to learn things.
Things like dating apps.
He looked at the TV and his expression changed again. Serious, but not mean.
“Yeah. They got him.”
“What if youjust tell him I have sleep apnea and you can’t stand the sound of my snoring?” I told Creed.
It had been a few days since he’d told me that his friend Hank was coming to visit, and now it was confirmed, (still by letter, which I found to be strange), that he’d be here in a few days.
We were walking down the rows of our neatly planted beets checking for any sprouts.
After planting, it was sort of like watching paint dry. There was nothing to do until the sprouts popped up, when at least then, you could actively be checking for insect infestation. I’d told Creed this, but like any nervous farmer, especially in his first season, he wanted to see for himself.
So we walked beside the rows, picked up the occasional rock that might interfere with our harvesting later, and at least he felt like he was actively contributing toward the beets’ continued success.
He glared at me.
“What?” I asked. “Snoring is a thing. Some people can’t sleep with their partners because of it and we have a whole extra room.”
It was the room I’d stayed in when Herb was dying but had refused to stay in since, because I’d wanted as muchdistance from Creed as I could manage. But now I was very grateful for the fact that we had a three bedroom house.
“We talked about this, Jules.”
“You talked about it, Creed,” I reminded him. “Look, I will agree to pretend to be your wife-”
“Youaremy wife.”
“Whatever,” I blew that off. “What I’m saying is, I’ll smile, I’ll make sure the house looks nice. I’ll even fucking hold your hand or whatever real married couples do-”
“Married couples sleep in the same bed,” he said. “We don’t share a room and it’s going to look like we’re not serious.”
“We’re not.”
“We are. I got a marriage certificate with your name and my name on it.”
“Yeah, but no rings,” I pointed out.
