I was just glad he didn’t want to take me hunting.
Since I was already in America, we had to go through an adjustment of status process rather than through the consulate back home for an immigration visa. As part of this process, there was an interview. Basic questions, nothing too exciting or scary… so long as it was Frank and not Larry doing the interviewing.
Frank was the good cop to Larry’s bad cop. Frank sorta made me think he was maybe kinda pulling for us, which actually made me feel a little bit guilty because none of this was real.
Larry, though… Larry was a fuckhead. And worse, he was actually Frank’s supervisor. So he was a fuckhead with power. Thankfully, it was Frank asking me the questions right then.
“What was the first thing you noticed about your wife?”
When Frank asked me that question, for a second I saw her standing there in the doorway at Tech. The rich reddish-brown of her hair, the bright blue of her eyes, and the way she said “shit.” It all brought a smile to my face. It could’ve been an Oscar worthy performance, but, in all reality, it came naturally.
“She was touring Tech and got lost. I can’t even really describe how it felt when I first saw her. She walked into the lab, cursed, and started to walk out.” My chest felt kind of full at that moment, and a little achy too, as I continued. “When I first spoke, she froze. It was my accent, you see. It reminded her of her grandfather.”
“There’s a lot of Irish in Butte, but not so many that talk quite like you.”
I shrugged with a smile. “Yeah I’ve kind of noticed.”
Frank smiled and looked back down at his list. “What did you buy her for her last birthday?”
“We have never really been together for either one of our birthdays,” I murmured. “I remember one, though, when she was dating someone else. He was a friend of mine, and was trying to figure out something to get for her. I making suggestions since he was feeling guilty because, once again, he had slept around.”
“Did he do that a lot?” Frank asked.
I nodded. “A fair bit.”
“And what did you think about that?”
I thought about his question for a few minutes, thinking how much I had hated it at the time, that Trent would do that to her. He had no idea just exactly what kind of awesomeness he held in his hands. And that he was willing to risk it… that just blew my mind.
There were very few people I trusted with how I felt about her. Brannon was really the only one, and even that had been the result of a drunken cathartic confession, something to try and ease the torture my feelings put me through. But as I sat there and looked at Frank, I realized it not only would likely help my case to tell him how I really felt about her all those years, but it might ease my conscience. It might relieve some of the pent-up guilt, some of the undying affection that never seem to fade.
So I took a deep breath and started to spill my guts.
“I hated it,” I began. “I even kinda hated him for it, because I’ve wanted her ever since I first saw her.”
Frank sat back and looked at me curiously, silently coaxing me to continue.
“I wanted to ask her out, that very first day I met her, but I didn’t because she wasn’t eighteen yet. Then the next time I saw her, she was with him.”
“He didn’t know that you liked her?” Frank asked.
“Nobody knew. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time.”
“Did she have feelings for you, too?”
I paused before I answered.
“I think so,” I finally replied. “She seemed to when we first met, and there were a couple times when we were alone together. It was always purely platonic, but it felt like there was so much more there.”
“But you never made a move on her.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“I couldn’t.” I shook my head and frowned. “See, he had done a lot for me, for my band. He’d been a good friend and, at first I think, he was probably a good boyfriend to her. He had a hard time with monogamy, but he would have lost his mind if he’d known I wanted her. He was very possessive that way.”
“When was the first time something did happen between the two of you?”
“Right after he died. I kissed her…”
Frank was quiet for a few minutes, thinking carefully about what I said. “How did that change your relationship? Did you guys start dating then?”
“No, I pushed her away. We didn’t even speak for a couple years,” I replied. “I saw her a few times, but I didn’t talk to her.”
“Tell me about one of those times.”
“My roommate, Justin, is an engineering instructor at Montana Tech. The year she graduated with her bachelor’s degree, I made some silly excuse to go with him to commencement.” I smiled, remembering the pride I felt for her that day. “She was the valedictorian. Feckin’ smart… she was so feckin’ smart.”
Frank cocked his head curiously. “But you didn’t talk to her?”
“She looked happy,” I said wistfully. “She wouldn’t have stayed happy if I went and talked to her.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
But I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Over the next couple weeks, we sort of settled into the way of things. Fliss was offered and accepted a job from her interviews, a social services position with the Department of Health and Human Services. It was a state job with a good salary and great health insurance. Granted, it was in Butte, but Butte was only a twenty-minute drive from Ophir.
I found myself on the highway making that twenty-minute drive one morning, heading to pick up some supplies to work on a welding project that had come my way. As I drew closer to Butte, I debated calling Fliss. I just kinda wanted to see her. The more I thought about it, the stronger the urge became.
I debated it as I crossed into the city limits, as I drove across town, and as I pulled up in the car park next to her office building. I even debated it as I headed up the lift to her floor. Once I reached her office, I didn’t need to call because there she was.
She didn’t see me at first, didn’t realize I was there. Sitting with a kid who looked a bit worse for the wear, she listened as the young fella talked.
“I hate him,” the kid said vehemently. “He can’t even take care of himself, much less me and my sister.”
“He’s sick,” Fliss replied, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. “I truly think he loves you. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t think any parent truly wants to hurt their child. He’s just got some stuff that he’s going through right now, stuff he can’t handle. That’s why you’re here… so we can make sure you’re safe.”
“What if it’s worse, though?” the kid argued. “I don’t want to be a foster kid. Nobody wants us.”
“There are people who really do want to help you.”
“I’ve heard so many bad things,” he said, shaking his head. “One of the kids I know at school is in foster care. He said they aren’t very nice to him. At least at home, I know there are things I can do to take care of my sister.”
“But you shouldn’t have to,” Fliss replied. “You’re only nine years old, Austin. You’re a kid. You shouldn’t have to be a grown-up yet. You should be out riding your bike or playing on your Xbox, staying up too late watching cartoons… things that other kids your age do. You shouldn’t be worried about making sure your dad is lying on his side so he won’t choke if he throws up. You shouldn’t be waiting up for him to stumble in so you can lock the door behind him. You shouldn’t be afraid that his friends are going to come into your house and hurt you and your sister.”
“But what if the foster family doesn’t like us? What if they just want us for the money?”
Fliss lifted her hand up to the kid’s dirty cheek. She spoke sincerely, with a calm that made my heart swell. “I know this lady, Austin. I’ve known her since I was a little kid. She’ll take one look at you and your sister, and she’ll see someone who needs what she ca
n give you. She will take care of you, she will love you. I can speak from experience.”
Austin narrowed his eyes at her. “You were a foster kid?”
“I still had my dad,” Fliss said, shaking her head, “but this woman is very special to me. She used to take care of me a lot when I was a little kid. A babysitter, but sort of like a mother. Something I really needed since mine was gone.”
“Did your mom leave like mine?” The boy’s voice was small, sounding comforted by the knowledge that Fliss knew first-hand what kind of person would be taking care of him.
“Sorta,” Fliss replied, not going into detail, but showing him her own sense of loss, something that they had in common. Something that made her more real to him. More trustworthy. “But Mrs. O’Leary was so warm and sweet and loving. She will be for you, too. I can promise you that. And while she’s taking care of you, your dad will be getting help. He’ll be working really hard to get cleaned up so that he can be the dad you need.”
The kid dropped his gaze, frowning for a minute before he looked back up and eyed her speculatively. “Will you check on us?” he asked.
“Every day,” Fliss smiled, “and you can always talk to me. You can call me or email or text. If you need anything, I’ll be there for you.”
Finally, the kid gave a hesitant nod.
“Your sister is in there with her,” Fliss said. “Are you ready to go meet her now?”
The kid thought for a minute, then nodded again, a little more sure of himself this time. Fliss stood, waiting for him to do the same. Then, with her arm around his shoulder, she began to guide him out of her office.
She looked up as they stepped through the door into the waiting room and saw me sitting there.
“Denny?” she gasped, appearing a bit gobsmacked at seeing me standing there in her office.
The kid looked up at me, over Fliss, and back at me with a wary glint in his eyes. Catching herself, Fliss quickly smiled down at him in reassurance. Austin, however, continued to stare at me with a guarded look.
“It’s okay, Austin,” she murmured, “this is my husband, Denny. I was just surprised to see him. I wasn’t expecting him to stop by.”
At first, I just kept hearing her voice over and over calling me her husband. It made me feel a lot better than it really should have.
“Howya, Austin,” I said.
When I spoke, the kid’s expression changed and he cocked his head to the side. He leaned up to Fliss and whispered loudly in her ear.
“He talks funny.”
Fliss grinned down at him and ruffled his hair. “He’s Irish.”
“So am I,” Austin said, “but I don’t talk like that.”
“Yes,” she nodded, “but you grew up in Butte. Denny actually grew up in Ireland.”
The kid’s eyes went wide. “You mean he’s not an American then?”
Fliss looked up at me with a faint smile touching her lips. “We’re working on that.”
I kinda couldn’t help but to smile back.
“Anyway, you look busy, so I’ll let ya get to it.” I started to turn away, then stopped and looked back at her. “Do ya want to grab some lunch in a bit, though?”
A faint myriad of emotions passed over Fliss’ features. She looked happy and then nervous, then bit her lip pensively before she smiled again. “Yeah. It will probably be a good hour or so before we’ve got things kind of straightened out here, but I’d love to.”
“I’ll do my runnin’ around and come back then,” I said.
“You were good with that young fella today,” I offered as we sat across from each other in the little café a short time later.
“Poor little guy.” Fliss shook her head slightly. “He’s had it kind of rough. I just want him to be able to be a kid for a little while.”
“He might be able to, thanks to you.”
“You want to hear something really dumb?”
I gave her a skeptical look. “From you? You’re the smartest person I know. Like you’d ever say anything remotely stupid.”
She toyed with her pasty as she thoughtfully twisted her lips.
“It’s just that I should have known. I did know. It just didn’t really hit me until I was working in it just how heartbreaking this is, the foster care system.” She shook her head and looked back up at me, and I could see the faint sheen of unshed tears. “I thought I was tough enough to handle it.”
“You’re a lot stronger than you think you are, even more so because you’re actually doing this. You’re out helping people that society likes to forget exist.”
She smiled at me dismally.
“That’s something to be really proud of,” I reassured her.
“Thank you,” she exhaled shakily. “I think I needed that reminder. I’m just glad Mrs. O’Leary offered to take these two in. Austin is terrified of letting an adult have control, and sadly there are foster parents exactly like what he described.”
“He’s right lucky to have someone like you on his team.”
She smiled warmly, giving a little shrug that made her seem slightly uncomfortable with the praise. “I’m just doing my job.” She glanced around the small restaurant with its funky little Butte vibe before looking back at me. “So,” she began with a grin of false bravado, clearly wanting to change the subject, “why the surprise visit?”
“Had to come to town for supplies,” I answered. “One of those birds in the garden club wants me to do some kind of sculpture that she can make water run over for her back deck, and I’m all out of flux. Thought I’d stop and see my wife, maybe take her out to lunch.”
Fliss’ smile faltered as she looked up at me with sort of that same expression Austin had cast on her. Wary. Wanting to trust, just unsure if she should.
“Thank you,” she finally murmured with a slightly melancholy smile. “Even if it’s just for appearances… it’s kind of sweet.”
“Jaysus,” I chuckled, trying to make light of her words, even though they caused a sharp, stabbing sensation in my chest. Because it wasn’t just for appearances. Not to me. “Don’t tell anyone that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“Right,” she mused, a twist of her lips that almost reflected in her sad, blue eyes. “Denny the wanker. Wouldn’t want to lose that tag, now, would we?”
The act continued in public, day after day and week after week. I offered many times to do a parts run for Brannon's garage so Fliss and I could meet off and on for lunch. We would find quiet little cafés where we'd sit across from each other, quietly joking about how married couples would do things like that and how it would look good for immigration. We would laugh it off in an attempt to belie the real emotion behind it. The truth of it was, I looked forward to every opportunity I got to spend with her.
We held hands as we walked into a crowded room, be it a bar or a party. She curled into my arms every chance she could when others were around. The constant touch of her body pressed up against mine, the consistent scent of her swirling around me, and the sweet and gentle tone of her voice filling my ears was starting to take a toll on my sanity.
There were times when it all just felt so bleedin' real.
For the most part, the people we generally hung out with seemed to take it all in stride. Sophie was thrilled to have another girl in the group, especially since Drew’s girlfriend Maggie wasn’t exactly the warm fuzzy type. Maggie almost seemed to look at other girls as competition, and she really didn’t care for the fact that Fliss lived with us. Quite honestly, I had always kinda thought Maggie was a bitch. I wasn’t the one shaggin’ her, though, so it wasn’t really my place to say anything.
As Fliss and Sophie became closer, Brannon seemed to relax a little around Fliss as well. His initial response to seeing her was curious. I sorta figured it had something to do with my drunken confession about wanting her to the point where I couldn’t be around my friends. He was, after all, the one I always dragged off to go chasing tail when things got to be too much.
; While most everyone, Sophie included, seemed to buy into the whole wedded bliss act we had going on, Brannon appeared somewhat skeptical. He watched closely, and I felt like I had to touch her a little bit more, pull her up against me a little more often. Yet he didn’t totally seem to buy in. Being the awesome friend he always had been, though, he didn’t out-and-out question any of it, giving me the impression that he was willing to go along with it, no questions asked.
Fliss and I were watchful and wary around others, careful to keep up the appearance. Sometimes it was all too easy, like when the band would play on Friday and Saturday nights and she would come to watch. She was easy to find in the crowd with the color of her hair, and she made a good show of being enthralled with each and every performance we did. She fit so well up against my side during breaks when us guys would come offstage to have a drink. She always had something icy cold waiting there for me as she sat with Sophie and Lily, Sophie’s boss and also kind of a regular around the band.
Ordinarily the girls had Brannon close-by, but one night I looked out into the crowd to see some dickhead talking to them. Fliss was arching away as he leaned closer, and I hushed the rest of the band for a minute before I spoke into the mic.
“Hey, ya feckin’ bastard,” I said, and the entire bar, the tosser included, looked up at the stage. Everyone went quiet as I pointed at him.
“What, me?” he asked, puffing out his chest.
“Right, you,” I nodded. “The lady isn’t interested.”
“How the hell do you know?”
Jaysus, where the hell was Brannon? This lad had to go.
“Because she’s my wife.” Just then I saw my buddy heading back across the bar to the table. “And the little blonde bird sittin’ there beside her, well her man is about to kick your bleedin’ arse if ya don’t back off right quick.”
Brannon was a big fella, and it only took one look for the sod to lose his balls and slink away from the girls.
And that’s how I shared the news of my marriage with the patrons of the Copperline Bar.
It wasn’t until later in the evening that I realized how that little scene had seemed to Fliss. She had been quiet on the way back to Ophir, which really wasn’t all that uncommon. There was a tremendous strain on both of us to keep up the charade in public and around friends, so we sort of had an understanding that we could go off into our own heads if it was just the two of us alone.
Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) Page 17
