A Marriage of Convenience

by Doreen Owens Malek

  "Yes, you are, and we're not going to argue about it. You were in so much pain last night that I had to slip you a mickey."

  "A mickey?" he said, smiling slightly. She sounded as though she had stepped out of a Humphrey Bogart movie.

  "I put pain pills in the drink I gave you." She poured cream into a pitcher and handed it to him.

  He thought that over, adding a dollop of cream to his coffee and rubbing his side with his other hand. That explained the headache. Maybe the vivid dreams, too.

  "I don't have time to go into town today," he said, trying again.

  Both women looked at him.

  "You're acting like an idiota, Tay," Rosa said sternly. "A broken rib can puncture a lung."

  Tay glanced from one face to the other and knew he was outgunned.

  "All right," he said reluctantly. "But I can only spare an hour."

  "You'll spare whatever it takes," Rosa replied flatly. "Maybe you'll remember this little inconvenience before you get into your next fight."

  "I think I've already had my last fight," he said, sitting down carefully at the kitchen table. "I'm getting too old."

  "Huh," Rosa said. "I did think you were over this kind of thing but it looks like you had a big lapse last night."

  "It wasn't my fault," Tay said.

  "It never is," Rosa replied, scrambling eggs.

  "Some townspeople jumped him because he doesn't want to sell the ranch," Sharon explained. "They need the work the developers would bring."

  "That's clever on the part of the developers, isn't it?" Rosa said. "If they can't persuade you to sell they can spread the word about your refusal and get the locals to 'persuade' you for them."

  "Do you think Citrus Farms paid them?" Sharon asked, listening.

  Tay shook his head. "I don't think Morse would be dumb enough to do anything that could be traced. If one of them talked, the company would be in a lot of trouble. I think paying people to beat up other people is still against the law, isn't it?"

  "Illegal contract, aggravated assault, civil and possibly criminal charges," Sharon said.

  "Really?" Rosa said.

  "There you go," Tay observed, jabbing his thumb in Sharon's direction. "Ask the answer man. Excuse me, woman." He stood and drained his cup. "I'll go clean up. I don't want to scare the doctor."

  "The eggs are ready," Rosa said, turning from the stove.

  He shook his head. "My gut is still rocking and rolling." He looked at Sharon. "Give me ten minutes," he said.

  "Fine with me," she replied.

  There was a silence in the kitchen after Tay left, and Sharon finally broke it by saying, "I never should have spoken to that man Morse.''

  "It might have happened anyway. The other company, Sun City, could be behind it."

  "I still feel that talking to Morse added fuel to the fire. He got the impression I wasn't decided yet, and that didn't help." Sharon sat disconsolately.

  Rosa put a plate in front of her. Sharon surveyed it as if it were a pit of snakes.

  "If you don't start to eat, there isn't going to be enough of you left to ship home in a thimble," Rosa said. "Tay is off his feed, too." She sighed dramatically. "It must be love."

  "It's aggravation," Sharon said.

  "Or frustration," Rosa noted wisely.

  Sharon ignored that as she picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it.

  "How is Pilar?" she asked.

  "She says she needs fifty dollars for her dance outfit for the summer recital," Rosa said. "I should tell you that this outfit includes items like a silver lamé spandex top and black satin tights."

  "I didn't know tights came in satin," Sharon said, trying not to laugh.

  "She's making them herself. I just bought her new tap shoes last month. I'm going to have to take another job to keep that kid in equipment.”

  "You have to make sacrifices for an artist in the family."

  "Yeah, well, when she's dancing at Radio City Music Hall I'm submitting a bill."

  They chatted until Tay walked back into the room. He had showered and shaved and combed his hair, but he still looked a little shaky.

  "Ready?" Sharon asked.

  He nodded. They walked out to Dan's car together, and Sharon got behind the wheel as Tay slipped in beside her.

  "I can drive," he said.

  "I didn't know who your regular doctor was, so I just called the clinic," Sharon replied, ignoring his protest as she drove down the access road.

  "I don't have a regular doctor," Tay said. "I haven't been to one in years."

  “Don't you ever get sick?"

  "Not often. When I do, I wait it out until it goes away."

  "If everyone had your attitude the medical profession would be bankrupt," Sharon said dryly.

  "Did I say anything after you gave me those pills last night?" Tay inquired suddenly, looking over at her.

  "What makes you ask that?'' Sharon replied, stalling.

  "I don't know," he said, frowning. "I'm kind of confused. It all seems like dreams."

  "It probably was," Sharon said quickly. "The medicine really knocked you out fast."

  He seemed to accept that and looked out the window broodingly for the rest of the trip. When they reached the clinic, Sharon parked and they went inside, where Tay gave his information at the window and then sat waiting restlessly, looking as if he were about to bolt any minute. The room was crowded and he got up to pace several times, looking longingly at the door. Sharon was beginning to think he would leave regardless of what she said when his name was finally called by the nurse.

  He seemed to be in the doctor's office for an inordinately long time, and when he finally emerged, Sharon was able to determine why. The white coated physician was with him. She was about thirty, with thick chestnut hair and large green eyes. She was wearing nonregulation high heels, and a blue silk dress showed beneath her jacket.

  They were deep in conversation, and Sharon felt sure it had nothing to do with cracked ribs. Tay finally tore himself away from his medical adviser and came through the door, a prescription slip in his hand.

  "So?" Sharon said to him.

  "She taped them for me. Hairline fractures, she said."

  "Gee, she developed the X rays right there, huh?" Sharon said.

  "Yeah, they can do that now," Tay said, staring at her.

  "For special patients?" Sharon asked.

  "For everybody. What's the matter with you?''

  "I've been waiting almost an hour, that's what's the matter with me," Sharon replied irritably.

  "I'm sorry it took so long. When I told her I hadn't seen a doctor in a while she gave me a thorough exam."

  "I'll bet," Sharon said under her breath.

  "What?"

  “That's good. Do you have to get that filled?''

  He nodded.

  "Did she say anything about curtailing your work schedule?" Sharon asked suspiciously.

  He didn't answer.

  “Tay. I'll call and ask her myself.''

  "She told me I can't lift or do heavy work for a week," Tay replied unhappily.

  "I'll see that you follow that directive," Sharon said.

  He looked at her as they left the office. "How do you propose to do that?'' he asked.

  "I have my ways."

  "Gonna sit on me?"

  "If I have to."

  "I'm looking forward to it," he said, smiling, and she let that pass.

  They stopped at a pharmacy in town to fill his prescription, and on the way out Tay said, "Do you want to have lunch? There's a good place around the corner."

  "All right," Sharon said, wondering about the invitation. He had made a science of avoiding her since her arrival, and she suspected that there was an ulterior motive for his sudden chumminess.

  The hostess in the restaurant knew Tay, and they bantered amiably as she seated them. They had ordered and were waiting for the waitress when Tay said, "There's a zoning meeting tonight."

  This is it, Sha
ron thought. "And?" she said.

  "I'd like you to come with me."

  "Why?"

  "I want you to see how many people are opposed to bringing the developers into our area. The streets would have to be rezoned residential for the houses, and they're going to debate the question in an open session."

  "What's the zoning now?"

  "Residential business. That means you live where you run the business, and both take place on the same lot."

  "I know," Sharon said gently.

  "But if it's rezoned strictly residential, then all the ranchers will be driven out. We won't be able to keep horses or livestock at all."

  "I see."

  He toyed with his napkin. "I'm afraid the developers are going to grease a few palms to get their plans through. They have a lot of money, and they stand to make a lot more."

  "The developers won't be able to get anywhere if all the ranchers stand together."

  "If they do," Tay said. "Money talks. You were listening."

  "I was considering," Sharon corrected him.

  "How do you feel now?" he asked, not looking at her, as if he were afraid to see her answer in her face.

  "I think I would find it hard to do business with anyone who engaged in the kind of practices you're describing," Sharon said.

  "I can't prove anything," Tay said, raising his eyes.

  "I saw the condition you were in last night," Sharon said. "I didn't imagine that."

  "You heard Rosa. The townies may have taken it upon themselves to rough me up.''

  "Do you believe that?" Sharon asked him.

  "No," he said as the waitress delivered their orders.

  "Neither do I," Sharon said, digging into her chicken salad. "Why do you think they picked on you?''

  "I'm kind of perceived as the ringleader of the ranchers who are holding out," he answered, taking a bite of his sandwich.

  "Perceived?" Sharon said, arching her brows.

  "Okay. I am the ringleader."

  "How many ranchers are we talking about?" Sharon asked.

  "About fifteen in the county, but I'm the only one in Glendora. They're offering the most for our property, too."

  "That doesn't surprise me, it's the closest to L.A.," Sharon observed.

  "So you'll come tonight?"

  Sharon nodded.

  "Thanks."

  The waitress returned and said, "Everything all right?"

  "Fine," Tay said.

  She winked at him and favored him with a sidelong smile.

  "Another member of your fan club?" Sharon asked archly when she left.

  "Never saw her before in my life," Tay replied, deadpan.

  "We hardly had time to pick up our forks before she came back," Sharon said. "Usually you have to send out a search party to get your waitress once she's delivered the food."

  "Maybe she's conscientious," Tay said, shrugging.

  Sharon studied him a moment and then said quietly, "My arrival has really cut into your social life, hasn't it?"

  He didn't answer, taking a sip of his drink.

  "It must be hard for you, pretending to be married."

  "I am married," he replied. "I've got the paper to prove it."

  "You know what I mean. Pretending to be in love with me."

  "That's not such a stretch," he said.

  "No?" Sharon murmured.

  "People believe it," he went on. "I mean if you were sixty or ugly or something, it would be different, but this way it's not difficult to pull off."

  "Oh." She hesitated and then added, "But you can't see other women while I'm here.''

  "You won't be here forever," he answered flatly.

  "Right," Sharon agreed. She sighed and said, "I guess you're anxious for this to be over."

  "Aren't you?" he countered.

  "Sure," Sharon said lifelessly.

  Something in her tone must have alerted him because he looked up at her. Their gazes met and held.

  “Would you like anything else?'' he said.

  "Pardon?"

  "Anything else to eat? Dessert?"

  Sharon shook her head.

  "Then let's go."

  They rose together and Tay paid the bill.

  As they left Sharon saw the waitress looking after them.

  * * * *

  As they drove to the Glendora municipal building that evening a rainstorm was gathering. The sycamore and pepper trees bent in the wind, and dead palm fronds rattled to the pavement with every gust. By the time they pulled into a parking space, droplets the size of dimes were splattering on the windshield, and they ran inside through a welcome shower that hit the parched earth and was absorbed instantly as if by a sponge.

  The turnout for the meeting was large, and the developers spoke first. Rain thundered on the roof as one of Morse's colleagues told how Citrus Farms was going to transform the San Gabriel Valley into the Garden of Eden. To their credit, the ranchers sat in stoic silence and let him talk; there were no boos or catcalls, but no applause either. When the chairman of the city council asked to hear from the Ranchers' Association, Tay stood up to a round of encouraging comments from his neighbors.

  "I've been ranching in this county for ten years," Tay said. "And I'm opposed to the rezoning for the developments, and I'll tell you why."

  Sharon sat at his side, listening.

  "All the open country around here is getting swallowed up," he said. "Time was when you could drive from one spread to another and tell where one left off and the other began only from the color of the fences," he went on. "Now the housing developments are carving the West Coast into sections like a paring knife slicing into fruit. There's going to be no place left for the animals or for the people who tend them."

  The ranchers nodded and murmured approval.

  "Those people have to live somewhere, Mr. Braddock," the Citrus man said.

  "They don't have to live here," Tay shot back.

  "Braddock has the floor," the council chairman said mildly.

  "Tell them what happened to you last night, Tay," someone in the back called out.

  Tay ignored that and went on, talking of his love for the land and his respect for the area people who made a living on it. His speech was simple but eloquent, straight from the heart, and Sharon was moved by his obvious sincerity.

  So was his audience. When the time came for a poll the rezoning plan was defeated.

  "Is that the end?" Sharon asked Tay as his friends came up to congratulate him.

  He shook his head. "No way. They'll resubmit their plan and put it to a general referendum as soon as they can. This just stalls them off a little. But every bit helps."

  "Why were they so eager to buy our place when they don't even know if they'll get the rezoning?" Sharon asked.

  "They know," he replied. "Or they think they know. It's called confidence. They're confident they'll pay off or buy out whoever they have to in order to make this work. They've done it before elsewhere, I understand. They'll regard this as a setback but hardly a defeat."

  "A formidable opponent," Sharon said.

  "Yes," Tay said evenly. "But so am I."

  It was still raining hard when they left, and the townspeople delighted in the rare spectacle of an honest-to-goodness thunderstorm.

  "You'd think they'd never seen rain before," Sharon marveled as they went back to the car.

  "They don't see much of it," Tay replied.

  "You were really impressive in there," Sharon said as they backed out onto the road.

  "I just said what I felt."

  "You said it very well."

  "I feel like Peter putting my finger in the dike," he said, squinting through the streaming windshield. "What I did wasn't enough, but it's a start."

  "Are you sure you should be driving?" Sharon asked nervously. She could hardly see a thing and he was still favoring his side.

  "I'm fine. I don't see how holding a steering wheel can affect my ribs."

  He negotiated the return trip
and they dashed back into the house as forks of lightning split the sky. Sharon took off her wet raincoat and was shaking out her damp hair when Tay said, "I was surprised. You seemed one hundred percent with the ranchers."

  He was wiping his damp face with the back of his hand. Touched by the eloquence of his plea at the meeting and feeling guilty about her meeting with Citrus Farms, Sharon faced him and said quietly, "I don't want to sell the ranch, Tay. I never did."

  He stared at her, speechless. After a moment he recovered and said, "Then what was all that pussyfooting around with Morse?"

  Sharon hesitated. Seconds passed, and then he held up his hand.

  "No, wait a minute," he said. "I get it." He took a step forward, his dark eyes blazing. "It's really important to hurt me, isn't it?"

  "Tay..."

  “You despise me, don't you?''

  '' I don't despise you...."

  But there was no stopping him now.

  "That's the real reason you came back here, isn't it? The will provided you with an excuse to return and make me pay, get me back for what happened when you were a kid."

  Sharon was silent. She wanted to contradict him, but there was an element of truth in what he was saying. He had hurt her deeply back then, and she hadn't been able to explain even to herself why she'd made it look as though she was entertaining Morse's offer.

  "And when Sun City gets in touch with you, I guess you'll keep them on a string too, to make me squirm a little more," he said softly.

  She shook her head. "No, I'm calling Mr. Morse in the morning. I'll tell him and Sun City that I'm not interested."

  "Oh, thank you so much. What caused this sudden change of heart? Is the lady of the manor taking pity on the lowly retainer begging to hang on to his parcel of land? Is this the same lady who walked away from the retainer without a backward glance or a word passing between them in all this time?"

  "Tay, don't do this," Sharon said quietly, pained by the depth of the bitterness in his voice. She wasn't the only one harboring resentments through the years.

  “You must really hate me," he said quietly.

  ''No,'' she whispered, her voice trembling.

  "And the funny thing is, there's no need for it," he went on, his tone tinged with irony. "You think I rejected you that night in the bunkhouse." His eyes moved over her face, and she fancied she could feel their burning touch. "You'll never know how much I wanted you to stay."