A Marriage of Convenience

by Doreen Owens Malek

  Her mother answered on the first ring. "I've been waiting for your call," she announced.

  "I said Tuesday in the afternoon. It's Tuesday. It's the afternoon."

  "Don't get smart with me, young lady. I'm having a bad day at work and I don't need you to add to it."

  "Why don't you have your last bad day at work and quit that job?" Sharon said. Her mother was an office manager for an insurance company and hated it.

  "And what would we live on, I'd like to know?" her mother asked.

  "We've had this conversation before, Mother. We'd be fine," Sharon replied. Her mother's father had died a couple of years before and left her a considerable legacy. There was no reason for her to continue in the job except that if she left it she wouldn't be able to complain about it anymore.

  "What are you doing for your birthday?" her mother asked, mercifully changing the subject.

  "I'm going out to dinner," Sharon said shortly. The fewer details, the better.

  "With whom?"

  "Mom, I know you don't like to discuss the situation out here. Do you really want me to go into it?"

  There was a silence at the other end of the line, and her mother veered off in another direction while Sharon offered silent prayers of thanksgiving. They talked for another few minutes and Sharon hung up gratefully and went back to the bathroom.

  She was ready at seven-fifteen. She was wearing mascara and eyeliner, which her mother did not allow, and had put her hair up in a chignon. She was feeling very nervous but wanted to put on a brave face.

  Tay walked through the door at seven twenty-seven. He was wearing gray cotton slacks with a navy linen blazer, white shirt and navy-and-gray striped tie.

  He must have bought some new clothes.

  He stopped short when he saw Sharon. His eyes raked over her from head to foot and returned to her face.

  “Where did you get that dress?'' he said.

  "This is the dress I was wearing at the wedding," she said, bewildered.

  "It didn't look like that before," he said.

  "I had the jacket on then."

  "Put it on now."

  "Why?" she asked, disappointed that he didn't like her outfit. She could understand why his mother worried about him. He was certainly mercurial.

  He shrugged. "Have it your way. Well, I guess we'd better get going. I promised Rae I'd have you there by eight." His manner was less than enthusiastic.

  "Don't do me any favors," Sharon mumbled under her breath.

  "What?" he said, watching her.

  "Never mind." He probably had to break a hot date to take the brat stepsister to dinner, she thought unhappily.

  "Then let's just go, okay?" he said.

  Sharon followed him out to Dan's car. Her father had taken his van to the auction, and Tay's pickup truck wasn't exactly suitable to be left with valet parking.

  It was a strained ride in to Los Angeles. Despite his apology, Tay was still jumpy, and after a few faltering attempts at conversation Sharon gave up, sitting in silence until the attendant had taken the car and they were inside the restaurant.

  It was decorated in Mediterranean style, with deep reds and dark woods and low lighting, little shaded lamps at each table. They were on time and were seated immediately. The wine list was propped on a silver stand, and when the sommelier arrived he asked, "Will there be anything to drink?"

  "I'll have a bourbon, straight up, and you can bring the young lady a Coke," Tay said to the man.

  "Yes, sir," he answered, smiling, and left.

  "Do you think you should be drinking?" Sharon asked, concerned.

  "Yes," he replied shortly.

  Swell, Sharon thought. This duty is so onerous he has to fortify himself to get through it.

  Their order arrived and Sharon sipped her soda, examining the menu the waiter brought.

  Everything was in Italian.

  "Need a little help?" Tay asked, noting her expression.

  "I suppose so," she admitted.

  "Rae told me you like Italian food," he said.

  "I do." I just didn't know I had to be Italian to get some, Sharon added silently.

  "I speak Italian. I learned in the service. Do you want me to order for you?"

  "Okay."

  “What would you like? "

  "A shrimp cocktail and veal parmigiana," she said.

  When the waiter returned, Tay ordered for both of them.

  "Were you stationed in Italy?" Sharon asked.

  He shook his head, nursing his bourbon.

  "Then how did you learn to speak Italian?" she asked, feeling as if she were extracting every word from him with pliers.

  "I was locked up with a guy from Little Italy in New York," he said briefly. "We had to pass the time somehow so he gave me lessons."

  "How long were you locked up with him?" Sharon asked.

  "A year and a half, before he died," he answered.

  Their appetizers arrived, and Sharon watched Tay push his salad around on his plate before she said, "Tay, what's wrong?"

  He looked up as if remembering that she was there.

  "Are you unhappy because your mother forced you to bring me here?" she asked miserably.

  His face went blank, and then he looked concerned. "Oh, no, honey, it has nothing to do with you."

  ''Then what is it? Can't you tell me?"

  He sighed. "I found out this afternoon that I'm not going to be rehired at my job in Arizona. I thought I could spend the summer here and go back in September, but my boss lost the road contract we were working on and another firm's picking up the assignment,"

  "Oh," she said softly.

  "So it's take your father's charity or be out on the street," he added bitterly.

  "It isn't charity, Tay!" Sharon said, outraged. "He needs the help, he told me so, and you're working very hard."

  "I wouldn't have the work if I weren't Rae's son," he said stubbornly, finishing his drink.

  "So what? You're not goldbricking, you're earning every penny. You got your construction job through an Army buddy. Is that so different?''

  "You don't understand," he said. "I wanted to go back to Arizona, show Rae and your dad that I was independent. This way, everybody still thinks of me as..."

  "What?" Sharon asked.

  "A burden, a concern, a problem," he answered, and she couldn't disagree.

  A dance band was assembling in the room behind them. Sharon was listening to them tuning up when two attendants opened a folding divider to their left, putting the band into the room with them. A pegged wood dance floor spread out in front of the dais.

  "Isn't there some field you could go into? Didn't you learn to do something in the Army?" she asked, trying to be helpful.

  "I learned to kill people," he said.

  Sharon fell silent, chastened.

  He signaled for another drink.

  The band began to play, a cheerful counterpoint to their strained conversation.

  Sharon stood abruptly.

  “Where are you going?'' he asked.

  "To the ladies' room," she said quietly and fled.

  He watched her leave and decided to buy himself some cigarettes in the lobby while she was gone.

  When Sharon returned, the table was empty. For a brief wild moment she thought he had left, but she realized that Rae's son would never do such a thing, no matter how upset he was. She was standing uncertainly next to her chair when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  "Dance?'' the young man said.

  He was about twenty, dining with his parents a couple of tables away. They had come in while Tay was away from the table, and the boy obviously didn't realize that Sharon had an escort.

  "No, I can't, I'm sorry," she said, flustered.

  "Why not? Got a date?"

  "Well, not a date actually, but..."

  "Then dance with me," he said, taking her hand and guiding her onto the floor.

  “Wait,'' Sharon said, but it was too late.

  Tay a
ppeared behind the boy and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around with stunning force. Before the boy could say a word Tay's fist crashed into his jaw and he fell.

  Sharon clamped her hands over her mouth, horrified. Then she darted forward as she realized that Tay was bending down to grab the boy and hit him again.

  "Tay," she screamed, throwing both arms around his neck and holding him back, placing herself between him and his victim. "What are you doing?"

  He tried to put her aside, but she hung on with all her might, and he couldn't continue the fight unless he handled her roughly. As he paused to disentangle her, the boy's parents ran from their table and helped their son to his feet. At the same time the maitre d' and several waiters rushed to intervene.

  "What is the meaning of this?" the boy's father demanded, sputtering. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers!"

  "Forget it, Dad," the kid said, wiping his bloody mouth with his hand. “Let's just get out of here.''

  The family left in a huff, the father still muttering threats of litigation against both Tay and the restaurant as Tay pried Sharon's arms from his neck and reached for his wallet.

  The enraged maitre d' started to say something about unacceptable conduct and disturbing the guests and calling the police. Tay removed several greenbacks from his billfold and flung them onto the nearest table.

  "Save it," he said to the man. "That's enough to cover their meal and ours and to pay for any damage. We're leaving."

  He grabbed Sharon's wrist and hauled her after him through the dining room, where everyone stared as if they were a sideshow, and into the lobby. He paused long enough to look down at her and say, "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine," she responded shakily. "But I'm not the one you were beating up."

  He didn't reply to that but merely said, "Wait here. I'll get the car."

  Sharon spent several uncomfortable minutes as the object of sotto voce commentary from the late diners before he returned to get her. She slipped into the passenger seat beside him and he gunned the motor, leaving the restaurant behind as quickly as possible. He drove for a while with unrelieved concentration, not looking at her, until he surprised her by pulling into a rest area. It was paved for parking and had picnic benches by the side of the road. He shut off the motor and sat staring straight ahead until he said expressionlessly, "I'm sorry."

  "Why did you do it, Tay?" she asked. "That boy wasn't really bothering me."

  He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know," he said quietly.

  "Then why?"

  He shrugged, shook his head and looked out the side window at nothing.

  "Come on," Sharon said impulsively. "Let's go sit under the trees."

  He obeyed without protest, getting out on his side and following her to one of the benches. She sat and he leaned against a tree trunk, lighting a cigarette.

  "So, I guess I ruined your birthday, huh?" he said, inhaling.

  "No, of course not. But I wish I could understand what happened."

  "I screwed up, is what happened," he said flatly. "Nothing new."

  "I think you were disappointed and unhappy, and you wanted to take it out on someone. That kid just gave you an excuse to do it."

  He exhaled luxuriously before saying, "How did somebody your age get to be so smart?" He tapped ashes on the ground, smiling thinly.

  "I'm a child prodigy," Sharon replied, and his smile widened. "That's better," she said.

  "Better than what?"

  "Fistfights in restaurants?" she suggested.

  He nodded slowly. "You got a boyfriend back home?" he said.

  Sharon shook her head.

  "Why not?"

  "My mother's kind of strict. She doesn't allow me to date much."

  "But you'll be going to college in the fall. That'll change."

  "I hope so," Sharon said fervently, and he grinned.

  “What about you?'' she asked boldly.

  "Me?"

  "Uh-huh. Rosa says you have lots of girlfriends."

  "Rosa talks too much," he muttered.

  "I saw you leave the wedding with Eloise Randall."

  "You don't miss much, do you?" he said archly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his heel.

  "Do you like her?"

  "She's all right,'' he said dismissively.

  "Do girls like that make you feel better?" she asked ingenuously.

  He eyed her closely, wondering if he should be annoyed, but she seemed innocent. He looked at the ground. "No," he said remotely. "They're a quick fix for one night, maybe, but nothing changes."

  “Then why do you go with them?'' she asked.

  "You're just chock-full of questions, aren't you, miss?" he said, taking her hand and pulling her off the bench.

  "I'm sorry if I was nosy," she said quickly, realizing that she had been grilling him ."I'm just... interested.''

  "I'll say. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

  "Yes. Where I can get a hamburger? I'm starving."

  "That's right, you missed your birthday dinner on account of me, didn't you? Well, the least I can do to make up for it is feed you. I know a good Mexican burger place in El Monte. Want to go?"

  "You bet."

  They were on the road again shortly, Tay humming along with the radio as he drove.

  "Your mood has improved," Sharon said.

  "Must be the company,'' he said, glancing at her.

  "I was with you in the restaurant, too," she said impishly.

  "Prolonged exposure may be required to have an effect," he said.

  "Then you'll have to see more of me," Sharon suggested.

  He glanced over at her but didn't reply.

  Tay took her to a railroad style diner with vinyl booths and a mini jukebox affixed to each Formica table. They ordered burgers, and while they waited for them to arrive, Tay said, "So what do you want for your birthday?"

  "Riding lessons," she said fervently.

  "Yeah?"

  "Yes. I'm the only one on the whole ranch who can't ride a horse and I feel ridiculous. My father said Miguel Quintero could teach me, but he never seems to have any free time and..."

  "I'll teach you," Tay offered casually.

  "Are you serious?" Sharon asked, wide eyed.

  "Sure. If you're not scared of me after tonight, that is," he added, watching her face.

  "I'm not scared of you," Sharon said softly.

  "Brave girl," he said wryly, seeming relieved. "Okay, I'll work the time out with your father. We can start tomorrow."

  "You sure you don't mind?" Sharon asked, delighted.

  "Nah, it'll give me something constructive to do."

  Their food came, and Tay asked Sharon about her life in Philadelphia as they ate.

  "Boredom," was Sharon's description. "I couldn't wait to get out here for the summer.”

  "Are we that much more exciting?" he asked, raising his brows. He seemed so relaxed now, his coffee colored eyes smiling, that it was difficult to recall the violent stranger who had erupted in the restaurant.

  "Anything is more exciting than living with my mother," Sharon said around a mouthful of hamburger. "As a jailer, she's about on a level with Ernest Borgnine in From Here to Eternity: '

  "Fatso Judson, sergeant of the stockade," Tay said, grinning. “You remember that old flick? "

  "I love old movies. My mother doesn't let me go out much, and when I get tired of books the television's about the only thing left."

  "So what's your mother's problem?" Tay asked, popping a French fry into his mouth.

  "She's a single parent with an only child, that's her problem. She thinks every guy under the age of sixty is after me."

  "I'm sure some of them are," Tay said evenly.

  "I wish as many were as she thinks," Sharon said glumly, and he smiled.

  "How was the burger?" he asked as she enthusiastically finished the last bite.

  "Great. This is more my kind of place anyway. It was your mother's idea to go
to that other restaurant. I mentioned that I liked Italian food and she thought it would be a treat. I didn't want to disappoint her."

  "Some treat it turned out to be," Tay observed dourly.

  "I'm having a good time now," Sharon said brightly.

  "Really?" he asked, as if he doubted it.

  "Sure. Why not?"

  He shrugged. "I guess I don't consider myself very entertaining outside of..." He stopped.

  He didn't say "bed," but the implication was clear. Sharon could feel herself blushing. So that's why he pursued women like Eloise Randall. They made him feel successful when he felt like a failure everywhere else.

  "I think you're very entertaining,'' Sharon said gently.

  "I think you're just easily amused," he responded, smiling, and she had to smile too.

  The waitress arrived to clear their plates and Tay ordered dessert in a low tone while Sharon selected a number on the jukebox. The waitress returned with coffee for Tay and a chocolate cupcake with a candle in it for Sharon.

  "Surprise," Tay said.

  Sharon was touched. He lit the candle with his cigarette lighter and insisted on singing an off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday" with the waitress, who thought the whole thing very cute.

  Sharon was embarrassed by the performance but pleased by his attempt to repair the wreckage of the evening. As far as she was concerned, he had succeeded.

  They divided the cupcake in half, Tay wolfing his portion in one bite. He glanced at his watch and said, "I'd better get you home. Your dad will have my tail if I keep you out too late."

  Sharon didn't want to go, but agreed reluctantly. The drive back to the ranch was quiet yet companionable. When they arrived home, the house was dark.

  "Cinderella's back from the ball before midnight," Tay said as he unlocked the door. He walked into the kitchen with Sharon and turned on the lights.

  "Thank you," Sharon said. "I had a wonderful time."

  "I'm glad. And I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I didn't want to ruin anything for you."

  "You didn't." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and for just a moment his arm came around her, pressing her close. She felt his hard, muscular body along the length of hers, inhaled his masculine scent, and then he released her.