by Erin Bevan
“Um…well.” How could she tell her parents about the proposal? “Max asked me to uh…”
“What?” Her mother stopped chopping and pushed a thin strand of gray hair out of her face before she waved her knife in the air. A potato peel stuck to her wrist. “Join his team and go around staking people’s yards? I see his groupies out there all the time doing his bidding.” She laughed as she lowered the utensil to the cutting board and continued mutilating the carrots; the potato peel flopped off her wrist in the process.
His groupies. She meant all the young women he talked into joining his campaign. The young women he’d probably slept with, wanted to sleep with, or might in the future.
The bread turned sour in Alex’s mouth, and she tossed the remainder back in the basket.
“No, he didn’t ask me to join his campaign.”
“Well, that’s a relief. You don’t have time with all that you’re doing with your job and the knitting. I mean…who would have thought, our Max, running for mayor?” Her mom shook her head, her tone one of reminiscence as her hazel eyes glowed. “He sure has come a long way in life, hasn’t he?”
That he had. From being a poor kid with hardly anyone to love him to being one of the richest men in town with women falling all over him.
“His mother would have been so proud. We’re so proud.” She continued to chop. “So what did he ask you?”
Tami Mills obviously hadn’t heard about how many women Max had fooled around with because if she had the word proud would have been exchanged with disappointed—or appalled!
“He actually…uh…” Alex stared down at her hands. “He actually asked me to marry him.”
“What?” In her mother’s excitement, she lost control of the knife and mistook her own finger for a carrot.
“Ow! Shoot.” Her mom dropped the knife.
“Mom! Be careful.” Alex ran around the counter and grabbed a towel. Blood dripped on her mom’s conservative white blouse as Alex wrapped her finger.
“Are you serious?” Her mother jumped and jerked, her voice shaking with excitement.
“Mom. Be still.” Alex fought for control of her mom’s hand.
“Tom! Tom, get in here, now. Hurry!”
“Mom. Please.” Alex stared down at the blood pouring from her mom’s finger as she applied pressure to clot the wound. “We should get this seen.”
“Oh, stop it. It’s just a little cut.” Taking control of the towel, her mom examined her own finger.
Blood dripped in fat drops on the kitchen floor.
Alex’s stomach swirled.
“What? What the hell’s the matter?” Her father ran into the kitchen, sliding in his sock feet like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, clutching the TV remote in one hand, while Yorkie yipped and barked a high pitch squeal in his other hand.
Thankfully, her father was wearing more than a shirt and tighty-whities like Tom did in the movie. He darted his gaze back and forth between them, then to his wife’s finger.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Hush, Yorkie,” her mother yelled at the over-protective pup. Once the dog stopped, she continued. “Don’t worry about me. Listen to what Alex has to say.”
Flipping on the faucet, mom placed her finger under the water. The current of water mixed with her blood poured down the drain like some grotesque prop from the movie Carrie. Alex retreated backwards and headed to the medicine cabinet hoping like hell when she turned around with a band-aid all the blood would miraculously disappear.
“Geez, woman.” Realizing nothing was dreadfully wrong, her father’s posture slackened. “You scared the piss out of me. I was watching the game then you started hollerin’. Got me and Yorkie all worked up, didn’t she boy.” Her dad talked to the arm-humper in a this-man-has-lost-all-his-masculinity baby voice as the dog licked his cheek. “What’s gotten into her scaring us like that? Huh? Huh?” he asked Yorkie. The dog’s butt wagged incessantly in her father’s large arms.
Who knew something so little could bring a grown man to his knees?
At least she wasn’t the only one whose arm got molested today.
“Oh, Tom your game can wait. Alexandra has some big news. Go on, honey, tell your father.”
“Mom.” Alex rolled her eyes and ripped the wrapper off the Band-Aid.
“Well, out with it, girlie. What’s so important it had to interrupt my game and take ten years off my already old life?”
Her father stared down at her with his “supposed to be menacing” brown eyes. Truth was, despite his six-foot, two-inch, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame, there was nothing menacing about her father. With his white beard and tubby belly he played the role of Santa Claus better than some beat ’em up, shoot ’em guardian.
She stared down at the Band-Aid before she passed it off to her mom. “Max asked me to marry him today.”
“The hell you say?” Her dad plopped Yorkie on the floor and placed both hands on the countertop, shoulder width, leaning closer. The remote stayed nicely tucked in his grip. He gaped at her like she’d started spitting juggling gypsies out of her mouth one by one instead of news about a marriage proposal. “And he didn’t ask permission first? That sorry bastard! When I see him, I’m gonna smack him upside his pretty-boy head.”
Ask permission first? The whole situation made her feel like she’d been transported back to the 1800s. Marriage of convenience. Asking for permission. What would be next? They’d trade two cattle, three sheep, and a goat for her dowry?
“Dad, I thought you liked Max.”
“I do. Love him like the son I knew I’d have one day, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give him hell about not doing it right in the first place.”
I knew I’d have one day…?
“Wait. What? What do you mean have one day?”
“I figured you’d get married eventually.” Her father shrugged.
“But wait.” Alex held up her hand. “What about Chris? You didn’t think I’d marry Chris?”
“We sure as hell hoped not. In fact, prayed for it nightly.”
Prayed for it.
“You asked God to break Chris and I up?”
What kind of twisted mess was that?
“Sure did.” Her father gave an assertive nod. “And thank the Lord He answers prayers. Your mom and I both hated him and hoped one day you’d realize you hated him, too.” Her father shrugged again, his overall strap slipping slightly off his shoulder in the process.
Hated him? They’d been together for five years. How did she not know her parents hated Chris?
“You both hated Chris? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”
“Darling.” Her mother finished applying the dressing to her finger then gave Alex a side hug. “I think what your father is trying to say is we think the only people in the world that didn’t know you and Max would be together were you two. I’m glad to see he’s come to his senses. I worried, what with all the rumors of him and all these females he’s been canoodling, he may have made some mistakes that couldn’t be undone.”
So, her mother did know he’d done his fair share of canoodling, but then again, her mistake—one that couldn’t be undone—was the one that mattered the most right now. But that wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. Not yet anyway.
“You tell that future son-in-law of mine to come over for dinner and take his ass whooping like a man. After that, we’ll grill.” Her dad pushed away from the countertop, the remote still in his death grip.
“I don’t think Max meant any disrespect, Dad. I think he just got…caught up in the moment.” For lack of better words, and it wasn’t right for her father to think ill of Max. Especially after all he offered to sacrifice for her. Marriage to a woman he wasn’t in love with so she could save face and her job. Shelby was right. Max was an exotic fruit. “And besides,” she continued, “I haven’t said yes yet.”
“You haven’t?” Her mother walked back over to the cutting board. “Why not? Don’t you w
ant to marry him?”
More than anything.
“I don’t know. I love him. I always have, but we’ve never dated. We just…we’ve always been friends.”
“Best friends,” her mother corrected her. “And don’t you think marrying your best friend is better than going on dates with a stranger?”
“Yeah, but what about…” God, was she really having this conversation with her mother, with her father standing in the same room?
“Sex? Is that what you’re asking about?” her dad asked.
“Dear Lord, shoot me.” Alex ran a hand over her face.
“It’s easy enough dear. You’ll figure it out.” Her father waved his hand in the air and moved back to his recliner.
“Oh, God, really shoot me.” Her parents were a little late on the sex talk.
“Tom, stop. You’re embarrassing her.” Her mother scolded as she continued cutting, the knife making a constant bump, bump, bump sound against the board as she chopped, her hurt finger poised delicately in the air.
“I’ll leave you two girls to it,” he said as he un-paused the game on the television. “Tell my soon to be son-in-law he better come make things right with me,” her dad hollered over the noise of the TV.
Geez. Everyone assumed she would say yes. She didn’t even know her answer yet.
“Alex.” Her mother set the knife down and sprinkled the carrots on a cookie sheet. “What else is bothering you?”
I’m pregnant with a stranger’s baby.
The truth seemed a little bit too harsh for the moment.
“Is it the marriage proposal? Are you really not sure? I mean there must be a good reason why he asked you to marry him.”
Yeah, so he could have the picture-perfect mayor family.
“And I wonder what happened for him to come to his senses besides the fact that he must really love you.”
Love wasn’t enough.
But being in love…that would help.
“He’s always loved me, Mom.”
“But you’re worried he’s not in love with you? Is that it?”
Point two for her mother.
Alex sighed and nodded her head. “Yes. Like I said, we’ve never even dated. How do I know we’ll fit? How do I know we’ll make if for the long haul?” Did he even have any desire to make it past the birth of this child and his election? If he won, would he divorce her after his term ended?
“You don’t know unless you take the chance. There’s nothing wrong with a long engagement.”
There is when she only had a few months to make this marriage happen before she started showing.
“I’m not sure our chemistry is there.”
Lie.
How many times had she’d lied today? She couldn’t even keep count anymore.
“Alexandra, I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. It’s hot enough to burn this whole house down. There is chemistry, you just have to tap into it.”
Gross. The last thing she needed or wanted was her mother telling her she had to tap anything.
Alex shivered. The thought was beyond disturbing.
She turned her attentions out the kitchen window, and searched for something, anything, to bring her mind back to the present.
Off in the distance, the wide, expansive green field gave the appearance it floated up into the evening sky as the sun dropped behind the old red barn, turning the once bright blue sky into deep shades of blues, pinks, and oranges. The tree house she and Max had played in as kids stood off in the distance, their fortress still standing tall. She’d grown up her whole life in this home, on this land, and there wasn’t any other place in the world she’d rather get married than right here in her parents’ backyard.
When she dated Chris and dreamed about her wedding, she always saw the same picture—her parents’ backyard decorated with white chairs and an arbor covered in roses,
Shelby as her maid of honor, and her father walking her down the aisle. She even envisioned her preacher at the head of the aisle waiting to marry her. But in truth, she could never see Chris as her groom. That spot had always been empty, waiting to be filled. She’d tried to picture him at the end of the altar in their five years together, but every time she’d forced the image a wave of doubt would surface, and her mind would think of all the ways they disagreed. On how to raise a family, on finances, even the types of vacations to take together. She always wanted tropical and he wanted snow. Why had she’d ever thought they would work?
Now with Max suddenly as the groom, the whole picture came together.
“Could we have the wedding in the field out back?” she asked.
“You can get married in an alley for all I care. As long as you’re happy. Can you be happy with Max?”
Yes.
“I think so. I think we could both be happy.” If she could keep him from wandering.
“I think you could, too. Oh, I’m so excited!” She heard her mother’s footsteps hurrying closer to her before she placed her small hands on Alex’s arms and pulled her in a warm, side hug. “We have a wedding to plan.” She squeezed.
Quickly. “I was thinking October.” Alex turned toward her mother.
“Of course. That gives us a whole year to plan.” Giddiness shown all over her mother’s soft wrinkled face.
“No, mom. I mean this October.”
Her mom’s happy expression turned confused.
Please, don’t ask questions.
“This October? You mean next month?” Her mother studied her with a quizzical expression. “You’ve gone from not knowing if you want to get married to getting married right away. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She had to want it. No other way. She had her baby to think of now.
“It is.” She nodded. “Besides, it’ll be better for Max in the polls if he’s married before the election.” She did a little bounce on her tiptoes and forced a smile. “I guess I better go tell the groom he’s going to be a groom.” She stepped back to the counter and grabbed her purse.
“Well, wait!” her mother called, reaching her hand out. “Don’t you want to eat first?” She hooked a thumb toward the oven.
Alex could see the roast in the pan, covered in tinfoil.
“No. Not tonight.” She turned up her nose, suddenly the smell of cooked meat made her stomach roll. “I’m not that hungry.”
“Oh…okay, then. I’ll bring you some tomorrow, and we can start making wedding plans after we feed the puppies at the shelter.”
Wedding plans.
What a crazy few weeks this has turned out to be.
“Sounds great. Thanks, mom. See you then.” She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Bye, Dad. I love you,” she hollered over the noise of the television.
“Bye, babe,” her dad called from the recliner.
The back of his arm lifted in the air as he gave her a wave, the remote clutched tightly in his hand. Oh, how some things never changed.
And, how so much was about to.
Mrs. Alexandra Buchanan.
She rolled the name around in her mind a few times, and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, she couldn’t help her insides from doing that stupid pulsing thing again.
Tami sat next to Tom at the dinner table. The only time the man would leave the comfort of his recliner and the television was for food or sex or both. After all these years, he still had a voracious sex drive. Tom shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“Alex didn’t want to stay and eat?”
At least he had the decency to swallow before he spoke.
“No. She said she wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t believe that for one minute.”
“What do you mean?” Tom grabbed another forkful.
“She smelled the meat practically before it started cooking, and all of a sudden she wants to get married next month to Max.”
“Spit it out, Tami. I’m not following.”
Tami rolled her eyes. The man might work miracles on a tractor, but he
sure was clueless when it came to subtle hints. “I’m saying your daughter is pregnant, Tom.”
Tom dropped his fork and it hit the plate with a loud clatter. “The hell you say. So, my baby already knew about sex before I even mentioned it?”
Tami looked at her husband like he had bees spurting from his ears. “Tom, our baby has known about sex for a long while.”
“What?” Tom pulled his shoulders back. “Since when?”
“Since her first year of college when she dated Zach Briggs.”
“I hated that kid. Max did, too, if I recall.”
Besides Max, there wasn’t one kid that Alex introduced to her father that Tom had approved of.
“Yeah. And did you ever wonder why?” Where Alex got her cluelessness from was no mystery.
“No. I didn’t need to wonder. Zach was a prick.” Tom hunched back over his plate, shoveling mashed potatoes back into his mouth like a caveman who didn’t know where his next meal would come from.
“That might be, but that’s not why Max hated Zack.”
“Well…” Tom took a sip of his tea. “Out with it, Tami. Why did he hate Zack?”
“Because, you doofus, Max Buchanan has been in love with our daughter since he picked worms with her in the front yard in third grade. He’s never stopped. I guess this baby is the push he finally needed to realize how much she means to him.”
“Uh. Well, now he damn sure better come ask me for her hand. Knocking our baby girl up and all. And what’s going to happen when those church ladies of yours catch this gossip? Will they kick you out of prayer group like they did Nelda when they found out she was sleeping with the pastor?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care what the nosy biddies in my prayer group think.” Tami laid a fist on the table. “Also, you will not say a single word about this baby to Max or Alex, do you hear me? She will come to us when she’s ready. I imagine soon after the wedding they’ll make their announcement. Her job could be on the line if this comes out now. The Christian school has strict rules, so you keep your mouth shut.”
“Fine.” Tom huffed. “I won’t say anything. It’s not like I want to go bragging about our daughter getting pregnant outside of wedlock. It might be the norm now-a-days, but I still don’t like it, and Max better take care of our girl, or I’ll make sure he doesn’t win that damn election.”
