Page 14 of Patch's Bride
I pick up the marriage license. The paper is heavy archival paper with black ink and our two signatures side by side. This creates a link that her stepfather cannot easily break. I quickly snap a picture with my phone. My thumb hovers over the screen for a moment, then I open a text box and begin typing out a message to her stepfather. I decide to make it seem like a done deal.
I wanted you to hear it from me first. Elizabeth and I were married this morning at the courthouse. As you know, our mothers were best friends, we grew up together, and it was her mother’s dying wish that we end up together. I’ll take care of her, just as I promised her mother before she passed.
My thumb quickly hits send before I can second guess myself. The screen blinks and the message is sent. My phone rings within minutes. His name lights up across the screen.
I don’t even get the chance to say hello before her stepfather begins his angry rant.
“What the hell is going on here? Her mother never said a word about you marrying my daughter.”
“Stepdaughter. And just because she didn’t tell you doesn’t mean it isn’t so.”
“I can’t believe you just ran off and married her. She’s a child, Solomon.”
“Beth is nineteen, old enough to know what she wants out of life, and what she doesn’t want…” I leave the last bit hanging. I’m in two minds whether to tell him what Beth overheard.
“I’m calling your parents right now. They won’t stand for this.”
“Who do you think arranged our marriage? It was your wife and my mother. If you think about the situation, you’ll find it makes perfect sense.”
“She’s confused and grieving. You took advantage of her when she was vulnerable and that’s not morally right.”
I’m about to tell him that he’s the one who wanted to take advantage of her, but I bite my tongue. As yet there’s no evidence. “By law, she can marry who she likes. She won’t be the first woman to marry young. She chose me and I’m in a position to provide well for her and any children we might have. Once you calm down, I think you’ll see it’s for the best.”
“Absolutely not. If you don’t get an annulment today, I will. Do you hear me, Solomon? I’ll go to Father Michael if I have to.”
“You can go to whoever you want,” I tell him flatly. “It won’t change anything. The license is signed and there is nothing you can do legally to change it.”
“We’ll see about that. You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna stand for this.”
“Robert.” I cut him off, raising my voice. “Listen to me. Beth is my wife. Her mother wanted us to be together because she trusted me to take care of her. There are very few reasons to revoke a marriage license in this state. The bottom line is you have no reasonable justification for attempting to revoke our marriage license. You can rage and call whoever you like, but the fact is, she’s mine to protect moving forward.”
I tap the screen, attach the photo of the marriage license, and send it, thinking that should surely shut him up for a while. The next thing I hear is a string of curses before the line goes dead. I stare at the screen a second before turning the ringer off and sliding it into my pocket.
All his screaming and threats don’t rattle me. If anything, it hardens me for the coming battle with him.
By noon, my stomach’s growling so loud that Sharon asks, “Aren’t you getting hungry? You can have a bite of my sandwich if you like.”
“No way, I’ve got a wife to feed.”
Sharon teases, “She’s your fiancée. We already talked about that, remember?”
Grinning, I deadpan back, “I like the word wife better. It sounds more permanent.”
I like that my staff are so easygoing. They’ve found a good balance between being social and professional. I’m proud of what I’m creating here. But today, my mind keeps straying back to the beautiful young woman tucked away in my private space upstairs.
“Well, I think your old lady has a surprise waiting for you in your office.”
I rush to scrub my hands and fast walk to my office, way more excited than I should be at what Beth has planned for me. Sure enough, Beth looks up from the food she’s plating from our local pub. I love pub food, so I can’t keep the smile off my face. Shutting the door behind me, I ask quietly, “Is this us selling the relationship or developing the friendship? I can’t tell.”
Surprise registers on her face. “How about a little of both?” She gestures me over to the small table. I see she’s brought in an extra chair. “I ordered you a lunch based on what I remember you eating at church potluck dinners.”
I ask, as I sit down, “You paid for my food?”
“Of course I did. I have enough money saved so you don’t need to worry about paying me back. Just enjoy your food.”
“Darlin’, that is not gonna work for me.” Taking out my wallet, I put one of my credit cards down on the table. “I like that you’re looking out for us and want you to be able to order food or buy things that we need, but it needs to come from the money I earn, rather than your savings.”
“Why is that, exactly? I don’t understand why you’re so particular about me spending my own money.”
