“Just like they would if we said we were married. There’s something sort of final about that. I don’t think your mega-rich donor will ask questions beyond that.”
A silence descended on us after I commented. I could see the gears working in Liam’s mind. He finally broke the silence with the one-word question, “Married?”
“Well, yeah. I just say you’re my husband, and then they stop asking stupid questions. If we’re married, they would assume it’s my turn to take the dog to the park. They would assume we were trading off chores, or something like that. At least that’s what I would imagine.”
“Married.” He repeated the word. This time he said it in a flat tone.
I asked, “Are you okay, Liam?”
He spoke almost like he was thinking out loud. He wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the floor as he said, “Maybe we should just say we’re married. Is there any harm in that?”
I thought about the things that could be wrong with that, but, honestly, I was the wrong person to ask the question. When I brought up the idea of pretending to be married for dinner with his museum’s donor, I was waiting for Liam to tell me what a bad idea it was. Now I was waiting on him again. It had to be a horrible idea because it was so absurd — even if it sounded kind of fun. It wasn’t something we should do just because it would force Liam to spend more time with me. It wasn’t an outstanding idea because it would force him to get to know me even better.
“What about the wedding?” asked Liam.
That wasn’t the response I was expecting. I thought Liam would just say something like, “Yeah, I’m flattered, but that’s just crazy. Anyway, you’re leaving soon…”
My thoughts were pushed in the direction of a wedding and imagining how handsome Liam would look in a tux. I said, “I guess that’s easy. We would just tell everybody that we were so excited about the idea that we eloped to save everyone a lot of expense and bother. We took one of those super-bargain flights to Las Vegas, got hitched at a wedding chapel, and then we came home.”
Liam rubbed his chin. “I think that could work. Sarah would be furious with me.”
“Maybe she could know the truth. It might be useful to have just one person who is in on the joke with us. She wouldn’t tell anyone, would she?”
“Sarah is social, and she’s always sharing stories. Everyone thinks she is a great friend. They love to hang out with her, but she keeps secrets like they are locked in a vault. I’ve known her just long enough to figure that out. I’ve had experience with Sarah on both ends. I’ve had her keep things about me to herself, and I’ve tried to pry information out of her. We can trust Sarah.”
“She’ll just think you’re crazy, and then she’ll probably think it’s a fun idea.” As I made the assertion, I hoped she would. Sarah was vital for Liam. She was a great friend. A harsh condemnation from her could kill the whole scheme on the spot.
Liam said, “She already knows I’m crazy.”
Rubbing my chin thoughtfully, I added, “You know, I kind of like the idea. There’s no harm done, and we don’t need to share it with relatives. The closest friends like Sarah will know. I think I make a handsome husband, don’t you?”
He stared at me, and I couldn’t help but blush. I was a little shocked that I’d suggested something like faking being Liam’s husband. It was a fact that I was tired of the comments, and then having to explain that we weren’t dating. But a much less complex solution might be just to begin dating. Unfortunately, Liam would likely shoot that idea down based on my plans to go back to St. Paul. I decided it was worth bringing it up as an alternative. I said, “Maybe we should just say that we’re boyfriends. Wouldn’t that be enough?”
“And then they will still wonder why we’re living together. Are you backing out?”
It felt like his comment pushed me further to the edge, and I clung to the cliff with white knuckles. “Boyfriends live together. At least some boyfriends do.”
“And so do husbands,” said Liam. “Anyway, we’ve got the perfect trial run at the dinner. I haven’t decided yet that we should expand this, but it’s fun to contemplate. If it doesn’t work out, and we both come to our senses, then it doesn’t work out. I won’t have hard feelings.”
He made the complicated plot sound so easy. When I first moved into Liam’s house, I was convinced that I could exit stage left in a few weeks and return to St. Paul without difficult emotions. Now I wasn’t so sure I could just exit without gnashing of teeth and shedding of tears.
Liam successfully pulled us both back from the edge of the cliff at least for now. It didn’t stop me from running with the idea a little further in my mind. I wondered about what I would say if someone asked me personal questions about my husband. What’s he like in bed? Does he floss regularly? Are you going to adopt?
I realized my mind was running half a mile ahead of me. I asked, “What if we did this and you met a guy you liked, and you already had a husband?”
Liam grinned. He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder saying, “Honey, I’m not looking.”
In the middle of all of my complex and confusing thoughts, Liam cut through it with a sense of humor. I frowned and grumbled, “If you start talking like that then we’re getting divorced tomorrow.”
He winked and said, “Oh, I’ll be good. I’ll be very good indeed.”
9
Liam
Sarah held the back of her hand to my forehead. She said, “I don’t believe that. You’re just telling me stories. I think I’m starting to rub off on you, Liam. At least you don’t have a fever.”
“Cross my heart, Sarah. I’m telling the absolute truth. Alex went to the dinner with me and pretended to be my husband. We’re thinking of sticking with it for now. Do you know how many times people ask if we’re a couple? Now we can just say we are. Of course, we haven’t made a final decision yet.”
She asked, “Is that why you’re not wearing a ring.”
“I’ve got it in my pocket.”
“You don’t. I wanna see it.”
Her eyes opened wider when I pulled the ring out. At first, I didn’t know how we were going to solve that particular problem. I refused to spend thousands of dollars to fake marriage to Alex. It was my red line.
I wasn’t surprised that he had an easy solution. He said that he worked in the props department for his drama group in high school. He knew where to find $50 fake wedding rings. If you didn’t stare at it close up, it looked genuine.
I slipped the ring on my finger and then rubbed at my arms. Goosebumps rose as soon as my finger threaded through the gold-painted metal. Sarah noticed the goosebumps and asked, “Are you cold, Liam? Nervous?”
I was honest when I said, “I’m not sure. I think it has something to do with Alex.”
“You like him, don’t you? You’re excited about pretending to be his husband.”
Sarah held onto my hand and rotated it one way and then the other staring at the band that looked like real gold. She said, “I would think it was the real thing from any distance more than three feet. Up close, it’s a little on the fake, shiny side, but if someone is staring at your hand long enough to notice, you might want to get away from them anyway.”
“I did feel a little weird about it, but you know how an idea can get started, and things just begin to move forward like a snowball rolling downhill. It sounded like an interesting idea, and the next thing I knew I was introducing Alex to Hubert Linton and his wife Beatrice as my husband.”
“Did that feel good?” asked Sarah.
The goosebumps popped out in another wave. I demanded, “Why do you ask questions like that? You’re supposed to look sympathetic and say, ‘I’m sorry, Liam. Yeah, it is tough. We all get ourselves into messes like that,’ instead of taking a screwdriver and twisting it to make me even more confused.”
Sarah gave me a sad little smile and leaned her head to the right. She said, “You know that I’ll support you forever. It’s just that I get curious about t
hings like this. How many times do you have the opportunity to ask questions about a friend who goes through with pretending to be married in public? I have to admit I’m like most of the rest of the world thinking that the two of you make a good couple. You get along so well. You don’t finish each others’ sentences yet, but you do everything else happy couples do. Why not be a real couple?”
“Well, we don’t do everything…” I mumbled.
“See, I wasn’t going to ask about that at all. If you do play around a little bit, it’s none of my business. You’re both adults.”
I growled, “We don’t play around,” and then I hung my head. Sarah’s insinuation made me angrier than it should have. I also knew why. For the last three nights, I had trouble sleeping. I lay awake in my bed thinking about missed opportunities with Alex, and then I argued with myself about making a move with a guy who was going to live five hours away. I desperately tried to change the topic when I said, “He did a great job at the dinner.”
“The rich guy liked him?”
“Yeah, he seemed to warm up to Alex from their introductory handshake. For the first half hour, I kept bracing for some disrespectful comment about two married men, and it never came. I don’t know why.”
“The whole world is changing fast, Liam,” said Sarah. “Just because he made stupid, derogatory comments in the past, that doesn’t necessarily mean he still feels the same way. Maybe he woke up somewhere along the way.”
“Yes, maybe. Then Alex started acting just like you. He made up cute little stories about how we met, and our first date, and then the wedding in Las Vegas.”
“Did you meet an Elvis Presley impersonator?” asked Sarah.
“We didn’t go to Vegas!”
Sarah laughed at my indignance. She said, “I know that, silly. I just wanted to know more details about Alex’s story. I’m sure he made up an intriguing one. Most of the fascinating Las Vegas wedding stories I’ve heard involve at least one Elvis impersonator.”
I was feeling edgy. I didn’t want to be angry with Sarah. She was my best friend. I didn’t want to be upset about anything, but my nerves were raw. I said, “Then this must be a high-quality Las Vegas wedding story. He told the Lintons that we booked ourselves into a little Las Vegas wedding chapel, Elvis sang ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love,’ and then a woman showered us in bright red rose petals while we kissed.”
“Aww, that’s so very sweet,” said Sarah.
Just like when Alex shared the story with the Lintons, as I told Sarah, I thought about Alex dressed in a tuxedo. He would look amazingly sharp, and it would be such a difference from when we first met, and he was wearing denim.
She asked, “Did you wear tuxes?”
“Of course we did. I wouldn’t get married without one.”
“And a wedding cake?”
“With two grooms on top.” I was drifting into the fantasy that I relived alone in my bedroom after dinner with the Lintons. I said, “Alex charmed them. It turned out that Beatrice Linton grew up in a small town in Minnesota just outside of Minneapolis. When she figured out that Alex was from St. Paul, they started sharing memories about all sorts of places.”
“And the museum is getting the money?” asked Sarah.
“Yes, and Beatrice convinced her husband to kick in $10,000 more for me to buy another piece somewhere in northern Wisconsin. She said that she wanted Alex to be involved in picking it out.”
“That is amazing. I hope you stay married long enough for that to happen,” said Sarah. She gave me a wink to try and soften the impact of the comment.
I took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, that’s true. Alex was such a good actor, but in some ways, he was too good at pretending to be my husband. I’m a little worried the Lintons will want to see us again. I’m worried their opinion of me will shift around when they find out I divorced Alex after only a month or so.”
“When first you practice to deceive…” whispered Sarah.
I growled. “I don’t need to be reminded about that.”
“So is that why you’re thinking of sticking with it for awhile? I’m not completely sure that’s the best solution. Don’t you think it could have the effect of digging the two of you even deeper into a hole?”
“I’m not sure. Our closest friends like you know that we aren’t married. I think we will spread that word to a few more people before we tell anyone else that we are married. It just gets exhausting when Alex living with me causes trouble.”
“So do you think Alex should move out now?”
A shiver raced up my spine. Almost every day, at least once, I thought about Alex inevitably going back to St. Paul. It never made me happy. In fact, the thoughts were harder and harder every day.
I laced my fingers together and stared down at my hands. Then I looked up into Sarah’s eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe it would make the most sense to start facing the fact that he will be moving out soon. This marriage thing might be a ridiculous idea.” My emotions were bubbling just below the surface. I wasn’t sure that I should continue the conversation.
Sarah placed her right hand on top of mine. She asked, “Do you want an opinion from me? If you do, I’ll tell you, but if you don’t, just let me know. It looks like my recent track record might not be the best.”
I breathed deeply and said, “Go right ahead. I don’t know how you could confuse things any more than they are already. Maybe you can help me sort them out.”
Sarah cleared her throat briefly as if she was going to say something intensely meaningful. She said, “I think you like Alex. In fact, I think you like Alex a lot. My small amount of experience in these situations has shown me that a person will think some crazy thoughts and do some crazy things while they are trying to sort it out. My best guess about the reason for the crazy is the sight, sound, and smell of them crowding out everything else including rational thought.”
I continued to stare at my hands, but I considered Sarah’s words in my head. It wasn’t new information. In fact, her opinion was helpful because it confirmed some of the chaos going on in my head.
I asked, “Do you think we could get away with saying that we’re married?”
I watched her jaw drop. She wasn’t expecting the question. Sarah said, “I thought you thought that wasn’t…”
“I asked a question. I want an opinion on that one, too.”
She squeezed my hands and then sighed. I watched her rake the fingers of her free hand through her long black hair. She said, “I’m not going to tell anyone, and, if you fooled the donor for the museum, I would guess you can fool a whole lot of people. I think we’re all more gullible than we want to admit.”
10
Alex
When I first moved into Liam’s house, I volunteered to do the laundry along with house cleaning and dishwashing. Liam balked at first, and for three weeks we did our loads of laundry separately. After he saw the quality of my work on the house, and I volunteered to do laundry again, he said, “Yes.” I followed his machine instructions to the letter, and that’s how I found myself running my fingers over the fabric of his shirts and holding them close to my nose to catch the familiar scent of his fabric softener before hanging them in the closet.
His clothes were classic in style with little effort put toward chasing trends. I admired his savvy in creating a substantial, adaptable wardrobe. Liam was always well-dressed, and he made it appear effortless. The only surprise was the baseball jersey that I found at one end of the rack in the closet. Like his three suits, it was protected from the rest of the clothes by plastic from a dry cleaner. I checked the tag attached to the hanger and discovered the jersey was cleaned in June. That wasn’t long ago.
There was only one explanation. Liam was a baseball fan. I thought it was weird that he never talked about baseball, but I didn’t bring it up either. The jersey put a thought in my mind, and it helped pull me out of the closet to accomplish a different task.
After a quick search on the computer, I discovere
d that the final game of the baseball season was just days away. September was fading into October, and football was starting to steal the attention of local sports fanatics. I read that it wasn’t a good season for the city’s baseball fans, and their team was floundering near the basement of the standings. The good news was that low-price quality tickets for the final games were inexpensive and readily available. With the small amount of money my parents sent in sympathy, I purchased a pair for Liam and me on the last day of the season.
As I hit the purchase button on the computer, my fingers tensed up. I wondered how I would explain to Liam that I figured out his interest in baseball. It didn’t take long to breathe easier. He knew that I was doing laundry and putting clothes away in the closet. Besides, I could tell him about my ill-considered adventures in little league baseball and my affection for my home team in Minnesota.
The day zipped by uneventfully until I walked Chester late in the afternoon. He enjoyed the excursion and chased a few falling leaves while made our way down the sidewalk. I was blissfully unaware of what was going to happen just around the corner. By the time we left the dog park, I could feel myself clenching and unclenching my fists in near panic. I hurried Chester along to reach Liam’s house as quickly as possible. I felt a sudden need to be away from the outside world.
I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on the couch trying to calm the thoughts and questions racing through my mind. Staring at the clock and seeing that it was still nearly an hour away from Liam’s usual time arriving home, I pulled myself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. It was the perfect time to lose myself in putting together my grandma’s legendary lasagna recipe. Grilling wasn’t the sum total of my cooking skills. I could put together a few basic casseroles, too. I had purchased the ingredients for the lasagna on our most recent trip to the grocery store. I hadn’t yet decided which day to bake the homey, gooey, meaty masterpiece, but with my thoughts crashing in a myriad of directions, I reasoned there was no better time than the present.
The Pretend Husband: Romance In the City, Book 1 Page 6
