Marriage of Unconvenience Page 3

  “Wow, isn’t this fancy,” I said, putting my phone on silent. I didn’t have any faith that my mom wouldn’t call again tonight. She’d done it before.

  “Why not?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, sitting down and picking up my glass. She lifted hers and we clinked them.

  “To our impending marriage,” I said. The word left a strange taste on my tongue. It was so adult. So mature.

  “To our impending fake marriage,” Cara corrected.

  “Right.” I knew it wasn’t the real deal. It wasn’t like we were going to fall in love with each other or anything. I had literally never thought of Cara that way, and she was completely and totally heterosexual. Sure, she hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while, but that didn’t mean anything. Cara was the kind of girl who wouldn’t accept less than she deserved when it came to relationships, and a lot of the guys she’d tried to date hadn’t been able to handle that. Their loss.

  I inhaled as much pizza as I could and then we smushed together on the loveseat and watched old TV shows until we were ready to pass out.

  “So you can crash here, or we can share the bed,” she said, and my stomach did something funny. Probably too much melted cheese.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’d be comfortable out here.” She was basically in my lap and I’d been absently running my fingers through her hair.

  “That’s fine. There’s enough room for two,” she said, getting up.

  “Lucky for me,” I said, stifling a yawn. This had been a wild week and I was pretty fucking exhausted. At least I’d solved a bunch of my problems. I didn’t have to stress about finding a job, any job, right now. I could pick and choose and maybe find something that would pay better and would be a better fit for my resume. And Cara would be able to tell the financial aid office to fuck off, she’d gotten the money another way.

  “You ready for bed?” she asked, and I levered myself off the couch.

  “If I don’t go now, I’m going to be too tired to go to bed later.” She nodded and yawned wide.

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  It was comical trying to cram both of us in her microscopic bathroom to brush our teeth at the same time. We kept bumping each other with our hips and laughing. I almost choked on my toothpaste.

  One thing that Cara hadn’t compromised on was her bed. It took up nearly her entire bedroom and was made with silky gray sheets and a light-yellow comforter with black flowers on it. There were even enough pillows for two people.

  “This is the nicest bed I’ve ever slept in, except maybe for a hotel once or twice.”

  Cara pulled down the comforter so we could get in and I slid between the sheets and blankets and sighed in relief.

  “Why thank you. I spent way too much on this bed, but I figure a bed is a good investment. Sleep is really important.” It was, and right now, I needed it desperately.

  She got in next to me and turned on her side.

  “Thanks for coming over. And for having this ridiculous idea. I know I was reluctant at first, but I’m on board now. I’m not going to lie, I’m a tiny bit excited to get proposed to, even if it isn’t real. I wonder what my future husband is going to think about that when I tell him I was married before him.” When she mentioned a future husband, a sharp pain went through my chest.

  “If he does mind, then he’s not the right guy for you.” I could barely get the words out. I didn’t want to talk about this.

  “That’s so far in the future. I’m not planning on getting married until I’m a least thirty. That still feels like it’s so far away, even though it’s only seven years.” Her eyes drifted closed and she yawned again. I hoped she was falling asleep so we could stop having this conversation.

  “Let’s just get through the fake marriage first,” I said, and she nodded.

  “Goodnight,” she said opening her eyes one more time. I was closest to the light, so I got up and turned it out before crawling back into bed with her. She’d scooted over so we were almost pressed against each other. The bed was big enough, but I didn’t mind her being that close. We’d always cuddled when we were kids and had even shared sleeping bags dozens of times. I knew the sounds she made in her sleep. The little whimpers when she was having a dream, or the little sighs, or the tiny snores when her nose was a little bit stuffy.

  I’d slept in the same space with Cara hundreds of times before. So why did it feel different tonight? I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I couldn’t sleep. I was aware of every single breath Cara took, every single little movement she made. I could barely breathe myself, and I kept as still as I could so I didn’t disturb her.

  What was wrong with me? This had nothing to do with pizza.

  I let my mind wander and gave up on sleep after a few hours. It finally latched on one thing: the proposal. I thought of at least a hundred different ways I could do it, but none were right. Why was I spending so much time on this? I didn’t know, but I wanted it to be good. Even if it was fake. It would be good practice for the future, maybe. So far this fake marriage thing had been pretty good. Maybe the real thing wouldn’t be so bad, either. Or maybe I was just being a huge dork and was wrong about everything. That was also a huge possibility.

  At one point, Cara made a little grunt in her sleep and wiggled closer to me. I froze, worried if I moved, I would wake her up. She nuzzled right into my shoulder and sighed in her sleep.

  Carefully, I turned a little so her head was tucked more fully into my body. She was warm, and it was a hot night, but I didn’t care. I’d sweat my brains out before I would move.

  Sighing myself, I let my face rest against the top of her head, and finally my body decided it was time to shut down.

  Five

  I didn’t propose the next day. Or the next. I kept the ring with me at all times, even when I was in the shower. It was too small for my ring finger, so sometimes I put it on my pinky. I had no idea what Cara was doing with my ring, but neither of us had mentioned them, and the longer we went like that, the bigger the rings seemed to grow, until I finally just decided to do it.

  “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s not like it’s real. Or is it for you?” Ansel asked, when I’d complained to him about it. I figured I needed someone not involved with the situation to talk to about it. I’d considered some of my other friends, but Cara and I were closest to Ansel, so it made sense to burden him with both of our issues.

  “No, it’s not real, are you high? It’s literally just for the money and just on paper. Cara has been my best friend forever. Friend. I don’t think of her that way. Plus, she doesn’t like girls. Remember?” Ansel smirked, as if he didn’t believe me.

  “What are you saying? That I’m secretly in love with her and I created this need for money so I can marry her and seduce her into falling in love with me? You’re giving me way too much credit, dude.” I wasn’t some criminal mastermind from some movie. I was just a broke girl who had a broke friend who needed to marry her so they could be un-broke. Simple.

  “I’m not not saying that,” he said, and I briefly considered dumping my soda on his head.

  “You’re an asshole sometimes.”

  “Yes, you’re finally getting it! Congratulations.” Now I definitely wanted to dump soda on his head. I picked up my cup and he put his hands up.

  “No, don’t mess up my hair. It’s doing this perfect swoosh thing today.” I slowly set my soda down and narrowed my eyes. His hair was looking good today. It was a color in between brown and blonde, and he probably took longer to style it than I did with my entire morning routine. He worked hard, and it showed. I couldn’t mess with Ansel’s hair. That was a crime I couldn’t commit.

  “Fine. Your hair escapes a soda bath. Just for today. But I’m not ruling it out in the future.”

  “You mess with my hair and we are no longer friends, Lo.” I waved him off.

  “Fine, fine. Your hair is safe. Promise.” He dramatically held out his pinky finger and I linked it with mine.

  “So back to this thing you have going with Cara,” he said, and I groaned.

  “Leave it alone, Ansel. Just leave it alone.”

  He didn’t, and pestered me for the next hour until I threatened to leave.

  I couldn’t make him believe that I wasn’t doing this whole thing because I was somehow in love with Cara. How ridiculous was that? And even if I was, she was never gonna feel that way about me, so it didn’t matter. Still, I couldn’t figure out why Ansel’s comments wouldn’t stop bugging me. I was grumpy and irritated for the rest of the day. It was Saturday and Cara had stuff going on until the evening, and I was even grumpier and missing her. It was silly since I had seen her yesterday, and I was going to see her tonight. I looked down at my pinky every now and then at the ring. I should do this. I should do this and get it over with. I had built it up and that was making me more anxious and stressed.

  I didn’t want to make a massive deal out of it, but I also didn’t want to hand it to her while we were sitting in her living room. What was the happy medium between a massive romantic proposal and shoving the ring at her? There had to be something.

  The internet was my friend, so I took to Google to see what a nice, casual proposal would look like. After scrolling, I realized that all those proposals were for other people. I needed something that was for us.

  After a long shower to think, that ended up being ice cold at the end, I finally had it.

  I was gonna kill it at this proposal. Go big, or go home, right? No matter if it was real or fake.

  “Okay, what are you doing, you weirdo?” Cara said when I showed up twenty minutes early for our outing at her house.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, affecting an airy tone. I’d dress
ed up just a little bit, but not enough to make her suspicious. I hoped.

  “I just never know with you, Loren,” she said, smirking and leaning against the door. There was a little flutter in my chest about her using my full name.

  “Damn right. Come on, put on something nice.” I shifted the large tote bag I had on my shoulder. It wasn’t a basket, but I wasn’t hauling a damn basket all over Boston.

  She raised her eyebrows, but went back to her bedroom and I set my bag down for a minute.

  “How was Ansel?” she asked, as I waited in the kitchen for her. Her bedroom door was cracked just a little bit and I could see her naked back as she slid a dress over her head. I looked away.

  “What?” I asked. I’d forgotten what she’d said.

  “How was Ansel?” she repeated. I was using all my energy to not look at her as she slid on some wedges and walked out. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her naked before. What was my deal?

  “Oh, he was his usual charming self.” I wasn’t going to tell her about him pestering me. I definitely didn’t want to plant that seed in her head and take the chance that it would grow and she’d think I was doing this for anything other than the money.

  “I haven’t seen him in ages and I miss him. Maybe I’ll see if he wants to get a drink next week.” Her dress was floaty and made of a black fabric covered in bright tropical flowers. She looked like a goddess when she moved. I felt like an ogre in comparison, but that was how things went with Cara. I remember when we hit puberty that she just kept getting prettier and I just kept getting more awkward, and that hadn’t changed with age. I could clean up as best I knew how, but she would always top me in the beauty department. There was no doubt about that.

  “You should,” I said, a belated reply.

  “I think I’ll text him right now,” she said, getting on her phone. My nerves started to get the better of me. Was this a terrible idea? Was she going to think it was awful? Was she going to say no and change her mind? Was she going to think I was making too much of this?

  I didn’t know, and I wouldn’t know until I did it. I’d started the ball rolling and I had to let it go and see what happened.

  Fingers crossed.

  Six

  I refused to tell Cara where we were going, so I had to tell her when we had to get off the subway. I could see the wheels clicking in her mind, but she didn’t know where we were going. She couldn’t.

  Once we got to the street, I pulled out my phone to make sure I knew where I was going and then said, “this way.” She gave me a skeptical look before following. I’d brought us to one of the main shopping areas in the city, but I bypassed most of the big stores, and took her down a few side streets to some smaller shops.

  “This one,” I said, pointing to a small shop with an awning. Cara looked up at it and smiled.

  “You would bring us to a candy place.”

  “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” I said, holding the door open for her. “This is just the first stop. I have some more adult stuff in mind.” That made her raise her eyebrows.

  “Not adult like that, Care. Get your mind out of the gutter.” We walked together into the shop that looked like Willy Wonka’s wet dream.

  “Never,” she said, nearly crashing into a display of candy bars. I grabbed her arm at the last second.

  The place was cram-jammed full of every kind of sweet thing imaginable, floor to ceiling. I didn’t even know where to look. Bins of jellybeans, buckets of salt water taffy, bouquets of flower-shaped lollipops. I went right for those and grabbed a basket to put the lollipops in.

  “You’re not getting those for me, are you?” she asked, lurking behind me, looking a bit more apprehensive.

  “Yes, I am. You don’t have to eat them all. Go ahead and get whatever you want.” Her eyes lit up.

  “Even coconut jelly beans?” she asked. I made a disgusted face.

  “Yes, even those. Ew.” She had the oddest taste in candy, but I couldn’t help but laugh as she scampered through the shop, both of us filling up my basket pretty damn quickly. I made sure to get some of the stuff I liked as well, and then spent a small fortune at the checkout counter before I filled my tote bag.

  Our next stop was a wine and cheese shop for something a little more grown up. I picked a bottle of sweet sparkling wine and Cara got a premade cheese plate with prosciutto, olives, and crackers.

  After we had the food, I steered us in the direction of the river. I hoped we could find a semi-secluded spot so we could just sit together and I could do my thing.

  It took a while, and I was about ready to dump the candy, which was beyond heavy, but at last we got a good spot where there weren’t too many people and we had a great view of the city, as well as a clear patch of grass free of goose poop. I hoped.

  “I should have brought a blanket. I didn’t put that on the list,” I said, sighing.

  “You made a list? I’m so proud.” Cara clapped her hands and I stuck my tongue out at her as I dumped the candy down with a thump.

  “Now I wanted to take you to my parent’s house and go up in the barn and maybe hang this damn thing from the ceiling and have you pluck it down, but you know that I’m not that organized. You are. So I’m expecting something spectacular. But you know me, so you probably knew this was how it was going to be.” I couldn’t not do the traditional thing and get on one knee, so I said that and held out the ring. She already knew what it looked like, so I didn’t have to do the whole dramatic thing with the box.

  Cara was still standing and I couldn’t stop looking at her face. In that moment, there was nothing more real than the expression on her face. Her hands trembled as she held them up to her mouth. As if she was shocked. As if this was the real deal.

  “You are such a dork,” she said in a soft voice. “And you forgot the question.”

  Oh, right. I should have written this down, but my whole thing was going to be spontaneous.

  “Cara Lynne Simms, will you marry me so we can both get at my grandmother’s money?” She held out her hand and I slid the ring on her left hand.

  “Yes, Loren Alyssa Bowman, I will marry you to get at your grandmother’s money.” I heard someone cheering and Cara went beet red. She immediately sat down and hid her face with her hands.

  “You said this wasn’t going to be in public,” she said through her hands.

  “I didn’t think anyone was paying attention. No one in Boston is usually paying attention to anyone else.” She let her hands drop and looked around to make sure no one was staring. No one was. They’d all gone back to their own business.

  “Give me my candy,” she said, holding her hands out.

  “Fine, fine. I worked for like, an hour on this proposal. I mean, I wrote down a bunch of ideas that I scrapped and decided to do this instead, but still. I worked on this.” Cara got the bag of coconut jelly beans open and crammed a few in her mouth and grinned at me.

  “You did good. Now I have to do something better. I can’t let you top me.” I cringed at the jelly beans and pulled out a chocolate bar that had caramel and nuts in it.

  “You don’t have to propose. I didn’t have to do it, but I figured I would, since we had the rings and all. No pressure. I need to contact the guy who is in charge of the account and let him know that I’m getting married so he better be working on getting me a check. I know he’s going to want to see the marriage certificate, so we’ll probably have to fax him a copy or something. But as soon as I have the check? Cha-ching!” I devoured the rest of the candy bar and went for the cheese and crackers.

  “We should have a toast,” Cara said, opening the wine. “Do you have any glasses?” Shit, I’d forgotten something else.

  “I really needed you to help me plan this. I’m a mess without you.” Cara took a swig from the wine bottle and passed it to me.

  “We don’t need cups, see?”

  I smiled at her and sipped from the bottle. We could always make it work.

  “No, we don’t need cups. Here’s not needing cups, and marrying for money.” I raised the bottle and had a sip before passing it back to her.

  “Here, here,” she said before drinking from the bottle as well.

  “This is really nice, Lo,” she said, leaning back and grabbing some cheese. “You did a good job. And you didn’t have to. We didn’t need to do the rings. But I can’t help but feel good that it’s on my finger. It’s so pretty.” She held out her hand and tipped it back and forth to watch the shine.