Forty Day Fiancé

by Erin McCarthy

  I had my hands shoved in my pockets because it was cold and windy, with flurries drifting around us. We were en route to our parents’ apartment for dinner. “Nope. I have not lost my mind. I proposed to Felicia and she said yes.”

  “Of course she did, because she’s psycho. She’s a stalker. She has to be. A stage-five clinger. If you try to break up with her at any point, you’re going to come home and find your apartment completely emptied out of all your possessions. Or worse, she’ll do something like take a knife to your entire collection of suits. Or shit, what if she frames you for drugs? Has morphine stashed in your shoes or something?”

  I glanced at my brother. “That is very specific. Has this happened to you before?”

  “The morphine? No, of course not. I’m not a doctor. But if I wanted to exact revenge on an ex-boyfriend who was a doctor, that’s totally what I would do. Pop him for drugs and get his license revoked.”

  “You and Felicia both watch too much crime TV. That’s crazy. Also, I can see why you’re single.”

  “Oh, great, she admitted she watches crime TV? Dude, you are so fucked. Or worse, dead. She’ll marry you, kill you, and collect the insurance money.”

  “What happened to love at first sight? Does no one believe in that anymore?” I shook my head, more amused than angry.

  “Not me, that’s for damn sure.”

  “You’re a jaded manwhore.”

  “You’re not going to get this woman pregnant, are you? That’s a lifelong commitment. You have to make sure she’s not a psycho first.”

  “She’s not pregnant.” I wasn’t going to comment on if I was in the future, because I didn’t know the answer to that yet.

  “Of course she’s not pregnant yet. You just met her. Or she is pregnant but you wouldn’t even know it, so you better hope that’s not the case. Be safe. I’m serious.”

  “I will.” I paused in front of my parents’ building. “I’ll meet you up there in a minute.”

  “What are you doing?” Sean looked at me suspiciously.

  “Waiting for Felicia.”

  “You invited her up to Mom and Dad’s apartment? What the hell, man? Couldn’t she just meet us at the restaurant?”

  “No, we’re having happy hour first. That’s what Dad said in his extremely clipped and Dad-like text. It would be insulting to her to have her meet us at the restaurant.” I wasn’t sure if Felicia would have cared or not. But I wanted to see how she was around my parents in a more informal setting instead of at dinner where sometimes the acoustics made conversation challenging.

  “Did you warn them?”

  “Of course I told them.” I shook my head at my brother. “You’re the only one who is being weird about any of this. They’re totally cool with meeting Felicia.”

  “Do they know you’re engaged?”

  “Not yet.”

  He snorted and opened the door to the building. “This should be fun.”

  Felicia was actually getting out of a cab. She was wearing a thick wool coat that looked vintage to me, but I wasn’t entirely sure. It went nearly to her ankles. No boots tonight, thank God. I couldn’t be responsible for myself around those boots. Instead she had on conservative heels in black. It was a good meet-the-parents choice. Hopefully the dress was the same.

  Though I wasn’t sure what I was worried about. I didn’t think my parents had much of an opinion about my dating life. I was forty-two years old, after all. They were retired, spent the winter months down in Palm Beach and had long ago given up hope of ever having grandchildren.

  Felicia gave me a smile as she came over to me. “I’m very nervous,” she said. “I don’t meet the parents of a lot of men I’ve dated.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, giving her cheek a kiss.

  “I think I’ve been a dirty little secret a number of times.”

  I really didn’t like the sound of that. It made me feel like she hadn’t always been treated with respect. The model who was the eye candy for some guy with a small dick and money.

  “If anyone ever called you that, I hope you punched them in the gut.”

  She gave me a slight smile. “That’s a story for another time.”

  I laughed. “Remind me to circle back to that.” I opened the door for her. “Remember to stick as close to the truth as possible. We met on an app in October. Keep it simple. This is like a trial run for how we’re going to do with the powers that be.”

  “Jesus, Michael, no pressure.” She gave me a look of reprimand.

  “Oh, and my brother thinks you’re probably a psychopath who will murder me if we split up, so don’t be offended if he’s rude to you.”

  “How delightful.”

  We went into the elevator. “Show me your dress,” I said, curious what was under that coat.

  She raised a single eyebrow. “This is not the time for naughtiness.”

  “I just want to see it.” I reached out and undid the top button. Her scarf was still covering whatever that would have revealed. “Please.”

  For a second I thought she was going to ignore me, but then she undid the coat and peeled her scarf off. She handed it to me to hold. Then she opened her coat, revealing a disappointingly conservative gray dress. Zero cleavage. I lowered my gaze and realized that below the thin black belt around her waist, the skirt went way below her knees. And had a killer slit on both sides. It was subtle, but it still made me want to slide my hand under it during dinner.

  “Do you approve?” she asked as the elevator doors opened.

  I nodded. “You look like you could be a teacher by day, a dominatrix by night.”

  That made her laugh. “That is not the look I was going for. I wanted conservative, but figure flattering.”

  “My mind went in different directions.”

  “Obviously.”

  I knocked on my parents’ apartment door. It opened a few seconds later and it was my father. He was a big, blustering kind of guy. He still maintained some Irish jovialness, but he was the third generation of an immigrant family that had made serious money in tenements and running liquor and speakeasies back in the twenties. Not exactly the most moral backdrop for acquiring wealth but starting with my grandfather, the family had distanced themselves from those rough beginnings and now my father was a retired investment banker who was heavily involved in various philanthropic endeavors.

  “Hey, Dad.” I stuck my hand out because we were the family that shook hands and skipped the hugs. “This is Felicia Hobbs, my girlfriend. Felicia, this is Bud Kincaid. Real name Michael Edward, but Bud to everyone who matters.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, offering her small hand.

  He took it and drew her into the apartment with his free hand on her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, too. So you’re a Brit, are you? What brought you to New York?”

  “Initially, I was modeling here. Then I stayed because I just love the city.”

  “Dad, let us get inside before you grill her.” I stepped inside behind Felicia and closed the door.

  He totally ignored me. “A model, huh? Well, that’s not hard to imagine. You’re a beautiful woman, Felicia.”

  I had not expected my father to say that. He wasn’t known for being a big flirt. But he was staring at Felicia in appreciation that went way beyond a casual compliment. Fantastic. I knew she was hot but I didn’t need my dad to know that too.

  “Let me take your coat,” I said, giving my dad a glare as I stepped behind Felicia.

  He shrugged like he had no idea what I was trying to convey.

  My mother appeared right as I took Felicia’s coat off and opened the closet to hang it up.

  “What a lovely dress,” she said. “Prada?”

  I shut the closet door in time to see Felicia nod. “Yes, thank you. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Kincaid.”

  “Oh, call me Gloria.”

  My mother took Felicia by the arm and led her into the living room. They were just sitting down when my mother let out
a loud exclamation. “Is that an engagement ring? That’s an engagement ring! Michael, are you engaged?”

  Well, fuck. I should have suggested Felicia leave the ring off so I could tell them first.

  This could get messy.

  My father was looking at me in astonishment. “You’re engaged?”

  I nodded, walking into the living room. My parents had a very traditional apartment, stuffed with antiques. Felicia was perched on the end of a divan looking at me for help.

  “Yes, we’re engaged,” I said. “I asked Felicia to be my wife and she said yes.”

  My mother burst into tears.

  Not exactly the response I was expecting.

  Nine

  I stared at Michael’s mother in alarm. Were those happy tears or was she having a meltdown over his alleged engagement? I looked to his brother, Sean, who was sitting back casually and sipping a drink. He just shrugged and looked a little smug.

  Not wanting to make an enemy out of Sean even though he had accused me of being a psychopath, I gave him a polite smile and turned back to the melee. Given that Michael’s mother was hugging him, I took it as a good sign and stood up to receive congratulations. Funny we’d rehearsed our relationship details but hadn’t discussed whether I should wear the ring or not.

  To be honest, I hadn’t taken it off since he’d given it to me three days earlier. I was in love with the ring. It was gorgeous and it represented possibilities. The possibility that we might actually wind up together after all this nonsense was over. I liked sitting around in that cloud of optimism. Maybe I wanted a relationship, marriage, more than I’d thought I did.

  No, that was a lie. I had known I wanted both. I had just thought they weren’t going to happen for me. Nor could I allow myself to think that now.

  “Come here,” Gloria said to me. “Give me a hug.”

  I readily accepted her embrace and said, “I’m so thrilled you’re happy. I know you don’t know me, but I promise I’ll be a good wife for Michael. He’s an amazing man and I feel very lucky.” My friends weren’t the only ones with acting skills. I had taken a class or two back in the day when I had been modeling.

  “That makes me so happy. I’d about given up on him ever getting married again. And you look young enough to have children. Do you want children?”

  Sean let out a crack of laughter. “Jesus, Mom. She just walked in the door.”

  Gloria was holding both of my hands in hers and she had a warm, firm grip. I could see she’d been genuinely worried about her son. I felt gutted seeing the pain in her eyes.

  Stick as close to the truth as possible. That’s what Michael had told me.

  “Yes, a family is part of the plan,” I assured her, because how could I not? That was the plan. Technically. If all the stars aligned and Michael and I didn’t hate each other in forty days. Thirty-seven, actually.

  The number made my gut clench.

  “Congratulations,” Bud said. “Let’s sit down and you can tell us everything.”

  “Yes. Sean, open a bottle of champagne so we can celebrate.”

  Sean rolled his eyes but he did stand and retreat into what I had to assume was the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t open concept. It had elegant crown molding and was decorated in a French provincial style. It reminded me of my grandparents’ house in the country. Very classy.

  “So you’re from England? What part?” Gloria said, once we all sat down.

  “London. Specifically Knightsbridge, if you’re familiar with London at all.”

  “Yes. I studied there for a semester in college. Knightsbridge is a lovely neighborhood.”

  “It is.” I’d leave off for another day we’d left in disgrace, the bank practically tossing our things into the street when my father lost the townhouse.

  “You do plan to stay in New York, right?” Gloria suddenly looked suspicious.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Felicia wants a brownstone on the Upper West Side. For starting a family,” Michael said, sitting down next to me, his hand resting on my knee.

  That mythical brownstone. Why did it feel like it was going to turn around and bite me in the ass? “That’s not set in stone,” I said, feeling the need to retreat from the potentially four-million-dollar decision.

  “I’d love it if you were uptown. God, I hate going downtown. The traffic is a nightmare.”

  “Because it’s all about you, Gloria,” Bud said, looking amused.

  “Oh, zip it, Bud. You know what I mean. I’m thrilled at the prospect of getting to know Felicia and planning a wedding.”

  A wedding. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “We’re hoping to have an engagement party before Christmas.”

  “How exciting! You’ll have to get on top of that though. That’s weeks, not months. Do you want the name of my event planner?”

  “I’d love that,” I said, truthfully. The thought of planning an engagement party with so little time made me break out in a cold sweat. Especially because I was also supposed to be moving into Michael’s flat. “And I’d love it if you were able to help me.”

  The enormity of what we were attempting hit me then and I felt my cheeks grow hot. I glanced at Michael, mildly panicked.

  He read my expression correctly. He gave me a smile and reached out and took my hand, squeezing reassuringly.

  “I would absolutely love that. Do you have a wedding date set?”

  “No,” Michael said. “We just got engaged on Thursday.”

  “Are you expecting?” Gloria asked me, her gaze dipping to my flat stomach.

  I certainly hoped not. The very idea of it gave me heart palpitations. “No.”

  “Not yet,” Michael said.

  I squeezed his hand. Hard.

  Sean reappeared with several glasses and a bottle. “This is all I can find. You don’t want to open this, do you?” He held it up.

  It was a very expensive vintage but it looked dusty, like he’d pulled it out of the back of the wine rack.

  “No, not that.” Gloria stood. “Good grief, Sean. That isn’t even chilled. There has to be some wine in the fridge.”

  This was harder than I had expected. I felt like a total fraud. Like the floor might open up and drag me to hell. Gloria was genuinely happy. It had nothing whatsoever to do with me. She just clearly wanted her son married off, but still, I felt like rubbish.

  “I’d rather have a bourbon,” Bud said. “Anyone else want one?”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  Gloria came back in, Sean trailing behind her with four glasses.

  “I found the bottle of wine we bought in Italy on our honeymoon. Let’s open this.”

  “I thought you were saving that for your fiftieth anniversary,” Michael said.

  Fabulous. His mother wanted to pop the cork on a bottle she’d been saving for half a century to celebrate the success of her own actual, legitimate marriage? Nope. Not feeling guilty at all.

  “Why wait?” Gloria beamed at us. “Is that okay with you, Bud?”

  “Sure. I’ll probably be dead by then anyway.” He waved his hand as he poured himself a drink.

  “That’s only in six years, Dad,” Michael said. “What’s going to take you out?”

  “Probably a heart attack from all that Viagra he takes,” Gloria said, rolling her eyes.

  “Mom!” Sean looked horrified.

  I fought the urge to give a startled laugh.

  “What? You’d think after forty-four years I’d have earned the right to be left alone with a good book at midnight.”

  Bud moved over to his wife and kissed her cheek. “Then stop being so damn sexy.”

  She waved him off, but she looked pleased.

  Unlike Sean, Michael just looked amused, like he appreciated that his parents did still genuinely love each other.

  My stomach clenched again. I had the feelings of both horror that I was lying to these people and desire for what they had. Forty-four years. It was astonishing and be
autiful.

  “Michael, you might want to invest in the little blue pills yourself,” Bud said. “You are no spring chicken and Felicia is what, a dozen years younger than you? You need to keep her happy.”

  Now that made me actually laugh out loud.

  It was Michael’s turn to be outraged at his parents. “Wow, thanks, Dad. Way to undersell me.”

  Sean was also grinning. “I think it’s a fair point, Mike.”

  “Kiss my ass, Sean.”

  “I’m actually fourteen years younger than Michael,” I said. “But I have no complaints.” I turned to him and gave him a smile, biting my lower lip. “He makes me very happy.”

  I meant it as a flirty innuendo but the minute the words left my lips, they sounded much weightier than I intended.

  His eyes narrowed, like he heard it as well. He actually leaned in, gaze locked with mine, filled with lust and something else I couldn’t define. “You make me very happy, too.” He gave me a soft kiss. “I do have one complaint though,” he murmured in my ear.

  I knew what he meant. My no-sex rule.

  I was already rethinking the damn rule. But it was the smart thing to do.

  Bud uncorked the anniversary wine. He poured glasses for everyone and passed them around. He raised his glass. “To Michael and Felicia. May your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow.”

  Touched, I raised my glass to that and took a small sip.

  “And to our wives and girlfriends,” Bud continued. “May they never meet.”

  It took me a full ten seconds to get the joke. Michael was groaning. Gloria was glaring. Sean eye rolling.

  But when it sank in finally, I let out a laugh because thank God for a good old Irish Dad joke when you were feeling like a hideous imposter.

  * * *

  “Where is Michael?” Leah asked me as she stood in the doorway of her old bedroom, shoving a box out of the way. “I really wanted to meet him.”

  I pushed my hair back and eyed the room to make sure everything was properly packed and ready for the movers who were arriving in just a few minutes. “He had a surgery he didn’t want to reschedule. I can’t deny some poor old woman a new hip. Besides, he paid for the movers and he would just be underfoot here. As you know, this isn’t the biggest space. We can’t take many more bodies.”