To Be Your Wife

by Rae Kennedy

  There is nothing else. No one else. No talking. No thinking. No thesis paper. No roommates. Only me. The cold air is damp and sweet. It fills my hair and my lungs. Breathe in, in, in. Breathe out, out, out.

  Fingers touch my shoulder. I jump and spin around faster than I knew I could. My heart is racing as I turn. Standing right in front of me is a large man and I instinctively reach for my tiny can of mace. In the dim morning light, it takes me a second to recognize Tuck’s face. His mouth upturned on one side.

  “Hey,” he says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I leave the mace in my pocket and pull the buds out of my ears. My heart is still thumping and I’m panting. “Holy crap, you scared me. Where the hell did you come from?”

  He looks at me blankly and slowly points to his right. I follow his pointer and, yup, there is his and Haley’s house. I hadn’t even realized I’d turned down their street. Tuck is wearing a white T-shirt, some soft gray sweats, and flip-flops. He’s also holding a mug of steaming coffee with a picture of a cat on it.

  “So...I saw you running by the other day...and then I saw you again just now...and...I thought I’d come say hi.”

  “Oh,” I say, finally catching my breath. “Well, hi then.”

  “Hi,” he says again, his shoulders shivering.

  I smile at him. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. We are standing there for a minute, no words exchanged. Goosebumps rise on his arms.

  “Okay, I guess I’ll get back to my run then. It was nice to see you.”

  “Uh yeah, you too. See you later.”

  I start to put my earbuds back in as Tuck turns toward his door. I’m about to take off when he abruptly turns around, “Hey Court—”

  I turn back to face him, once again removing my earbuds. “Tuck?” I smile.

  He looks a little embarrassed, still trying to figure out what to say. “I was wondering if maybe, you wouldn’t mind having a running partner?” He looks at me, his green eyes hopeful.

  Shit.

  “Wow, Tuck. I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t be very good company.” I don’t know how to say this nicely.

  “It’s okay, never mind. I just...I had been thinking about running again and it’s always easier with a partner...and, I don’t know.” He is rubbing the back of his neck. “Work has been stressful, I just got dumped, I basically disowned and kicked out my best friend, and my sister won’t see or speak to me.” He looks at me, vulnerable, having laid everything on the table.

  He’s alone. He needs a friend. Fuck. Nice going, Court.

  “Then, it’s settled. You’re going to start running with me.”

  His eyes are suddenly brighter and a genuine smile flashes over his face, complete with beautiful white teeth and two sweet dimples.

  “On one condition.”

  “Yeah?” The enthusiasm radiates from him.

  “Only if you can keep up with me.”

  His thick eyebrows lower and his left dimple deepens. “Oh, I can keep up.” His gaze on me makes my skin prickle under my clothes.

  “Are you going to run in those flip-flops, then?”

  “You mean right now?”

  I nod.

  His eyes widen. “Okay, be right back.” He dashes toward his house. I am impressed he hasn’t spilled his coffee. “Come in if you want,” he calls back to me.

  He leaves the door open behind him. I jog up the steps to the little white front porch, flanked by two large craftsman columns. I step inside the cozy entryway and make my way down the hall to the little kitchen that opens to an impossibly smaller living room.

  Everything is bright and clean, free of clutter or any stacks of dishes, unlike my place. There is one thing displayed—a small picture stuck to the white fridge with a little red magnet. It looks a bit faded and crinkled on one corner. I get up closer to it and it makes me smile.

  It is an old family photo, one of those ones you get from the mall where you all get posed awkwardly on a piece of brown carpet in front of a marbled brown background.

  The woman in the picture has light brown hair with feathered bangs and is wearing a bright floral dress.

  A little girl is in her lap. She is probably around two or three and is a little butterball with wild, curly hair and full red cheeks. Her mouth is wide open in either a laugh or a scream. She has chubby arms with rolls that lead down to little stubs of fingers which are grasped tightly around the arm of her older brother.

  Tuck looks about eight in a striped button-up shirt. He has a sort of lopsided smile, showing his left dimple and a major cowlick that makes a small chunk of hair on the right side of his head stick straight up.

  Behind him is his dad. The resemblance is remarkable. His frame looks a little wider with a slightly squarer-shaped face than Tuck, but his wide toothy grin and sunken dimples are the same. So are his kind green eyes, maybe with a few more crinkles around the edges. I can tell his dad smiled a lot.

  “Ready?” Tuck takes up most of the doorway. He’s wearing running shoes, navy shorts, a light gray hooded sweatshirt, and a huge smile. When he smiles, I can barely make out the little creases starting to form at the corners of his eyes.

  “Are you?”

  Tuck heads for the door and holds it open for me. We step out into the now-bright morning sunshine.

  “Just got to limber up,” Tuck says as he shakes out his legs. He stretches his arms over his head, bends at the waist, and then does some lunges down the walkway. He looks ridiculous but I love how he doesn’t seem the least bit self-conscious.

  I try to find traces of that cowlick in his now buzzed hair. But I can’t.

  * * *

  His footsteps echo mine perfectly as he stays a stride behind me and just to my right. Even the rhythm of his breath mirrors mine. He lets me lead, and I’ve taken us on a looping path around the outskirts of town, just shy of where it starts to get hilly. I’ve slowed down and then sped up and Tuck has kept my pace without missing a beat.

  I normally would have turned around twenty minutes ago, but I’m curious how long he can keep up with me. We’ve run about six miles and if I head straight back, it’s another two miles to my apartment. I might be late for my first class. Might be worth it.

  I slow to a stop as we come to a corner. My heart is pounding in my ears, my nose is cold, my lungs are burning, and my legs are throbbing in the best way. I can’t help but smile when I turn to look at Tuck.

  He’s bent over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. He stands and his face is red, but I catch a glimpse of that left dimple.

  “You ready to call it?” I ask.

  “Only if you are.” He puts his hands on his lower back, stretching it out.

  “I’ve got to get home and get ready for class.”

  “I’ll run you home.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know.” He lowers his head a little closer to mine. “I’d like to.”

  I look him over slowly. “Okay.” I give him a quick nod. “Let’s go.”

  When we get to my apartment complex, Tuck walks me up to my door. All three flights. He winces when we get to the top. “I’m going to feel this tomorrow.”

  I bite my lip, trying not to smile too widely. “Maybe I should have gone easier on you.”

  “What? Never. Same time tomorrow?”

  “If you’re up for it.”

  “I’ll meet you here.”

  “You’ve got a date.”

  The smile on his face is so genuine, it reminds me of the little Tuck from the family photo.

  I open my door. “Oh, and Tuck—"

  He turns around, his pretty eyes latching onto mine. “Yeah?”

  “Um, if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m always here.”

  His face relaxes, and he gives me a little nod and smile. “Thanks.”

  CHAPTER 4

  The clock reads 3:57 am. I stayed up until after midnight finishing my last paper and now, three a
nd a half hours later, I’m awake again.

  I roll over, punch my pillow, then stuff it back under my neck. A sliver of light peeks between my curtains. Just close your eyes, then you won’t see it. But it’s bugging me. So, I get up and make sure the curtains are tight together. I hop back on the bed and cuddle under the soft, warm covers and close my eyes. I roll over the other direction. But now the glow from my clock is somehow seeping through my eyelids.

  It’s 4:08.

  Shit.

  I roll on my back and stretch my legs all the way down and out through my toes. I only have a quiz today and a project to turn in tomorrow. Then it’s Fall break for a whole week. I also still need to pack. I should probably do laundry too. A small pile of cleanish clothes has started to mount on my desk chair. To be fair, it began as a way to keep them away from the not-so-cleanish clothes littering the floor. I should clean up my whole room while I’m at it.

  It’s 4:22.

  Fuck it.

  I manage to have my room all picked up, laundry sorted, school papers stacked and organized, trash taken out and my desk and nightstand wiped down before my dad calls at five o’clock.

  “I’ll be so glad to have you home.”

  “Me too, Dad.”

  “Expect you’ll be home about supper time? We’re having everyone over.”

  “Yeah, I should make it in town by then.”

  “Great. See you then, love ya.”

  “Love you too.”

  * * *

  I tie my hair up quickly as I go to answer the door. Tuck knocks promptly at five thirty and now stands in front of me in what can only be described as leggings. Man leggings. They are black and shiny with a reflective yellow stripe up the sides.

  “Did you go shopping?” Don’t look at his crotch, Court. I just did. I try to focus my attention upward.

  His face lights up. “Do you love them? I mean, the shorts did give a lot of calf, which are among my best body parts, but these really show off the whole leg.” He points his toe and motions up and down his leg.

  “Yup, they definitely show off your legs.”

  “And...?” He looks at me expectantly.

  “And...they’re fabulous.”

  He claps his hands together. “Yes, thank you! Nailed it.”

  I lock the door behind me. “Okay, let’s get those fabulous legs moving.”

  “After you, darlin.’”

  I give him a sideways glance, but he just smirks and falls in step behind me.

  * * *

  I only make him run five miles today.

  As we round the last corner back to my apartment, the sun has fully risen over the distant hills, casting a warm orange glow across the buildings. If you were looking out the window, you might forget it is freezing. The trees lining the sidewalk dapple the concrete in dark blue shadows and everything untouched by sun shimmers with frost.

  We slow to a walk while making our way toward my door, both out of breath.

  Tuck bumps my arm with his elbow. “I don’t have to be at work until an afternoon meeting. Do you want to go get some coffee?”

  “Depends.” I look him up and down. “Are you going to keep wearing those tights?”

  “You know it.”

  “Okay then.”

  All the lights are still off when we enter my apartment.

  I flick on the kitchen light and my keys hit the counter with a metallic clank.

  “Can I get a glass of water?”

  “Sure, cups are in—"

  But Tuck is already opening cabinet doors and finds the cups on his third try. He seems quite comfortable dancing around the kitchen while filling up his water.

  As I enter the dark hallway to my bedroom, the bathroom door swings open. Nick is wearing athletic shorts and no shirt. His light brown hair is spectacularly smashed on one side of his head and curling over his ear on the other side.

  “Morning, sunshine,” I say.

  “You’re too cheery for so early in the day.” He yawns as he scratches his backside. He glances toward the kitchen then squints. “Who the heck is that? He looks...tall.”

  “That’s my friend, Tuck. We’ve been running together.”

  “You’ve never let me run with you.”

  “You’ve never asked.”

  He flicks his hand. “Beside the point.” He heads toward the kitchen, eyes focused on Tuck.

  “Be nice,” I call out as I enter my room.

  “I’m always nice.”

  I emerge from my room, freshly changed into my softest, threadbare jeans and my long blonde hair fixed into a loose braid.

  “No way!” Nick whips his head toward me, his eyes wide. “Court! Did you know Tuck played basketball at Notre Dame?”

  “I was only on the team for a season, and I didn’t actually get to play.”

  “No, no, dude, that’s literally the most amazing thing ever. We shoot hoops at the Rec all the time. You should join us.”

  “I haven’t played in a while. That sounds fun.”

  “Awesome.”

  Tuck pats Nick’s shoulder and looks at me over his head with a smile. “You ready to go?”

  I nod.

  “It was nice to meet you, Nick.” Tuck walks over to me, all tall and broad-shouldered in his gray hoodie. Nick is behind him, giving me an exuberant thumbs up as we leave.

  Tuck blasts the heat as I climb into his red truck.

  “Notre Dame, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Tuck has one arm resting on the steering wheel and the other on the back of my seat as he backs out of the parking space. “It’s not a big deal. The athletic scholarship was cool, but I tore my knee early in the year and realized basketball wasn’t a reliable enough path for me.”

  Tuck has chiseled cheekbones and his smooth skin is taut across his angular jaw when he talks. He tells me how exciting it was when he got the call inviting him to be on the team, his voice increasing in volume.

  “What about you?” Tuck opens the door for me when we arrive at the coffee shop. Bells jingle against the glass and the aromas of hot coffee and decadent chocolate surround us.

  As we wait for our orders, I tell him about my high school athlete days playing volleyball, basketball, and running track.

  “All Varsity?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  I shrug. “Sports were always easy for me. It was the first place I found where I really fit in and excelled.”

  “You? Have trouble fitting in?”

  I swirl the creamer into my coffee, watching it turn to a pale milk chocolate color. I won’t bore him with tales of being teased on the playground for being tall and gangly. Or the fact I only had one real friend until high school.

  “Let’s just say playing sports is what helped me break out of my shell and make friends. It also boosts your confidence when you discover you’re talented at something.”

  Tuck nods at me as he takes a sip of his drink. He scrunches up his face. “Ow, that’s hot.” He starts inhaling quickly. “Might have burned my tongue.”

  I press my lips together to try to keep from smiling.

  He looks up at me, nonplussed. “So why didn’t you have many friends growing up?”

  Is this where we’re going? Okay. I let out a sigh. “Kids just didn’t like me, I guess.”

  He looks at me seriously, his golden-green eyes fixed. “Court, if girls didn’t like you, they were clearly jealous. And if the boys didn’t like you, they were just lying and probably scared of all the boners you were giving them.”

  I let out a hard laugh—kind of a cackle, actually. I wasn’t expecting that. “I don’t think that was it. You haven’t seen how awkward I was when I was twelve.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, I started talking about boners and you didn’t even blush.”

  “I’m not the blushing type.”

  He rubs his jaw and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Trust m
e. That was definitely it. I’m sure I got a boner the first time I met you too.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  A deep chuckle bounces in his chest then he flashes a wide grin, full of straight white teeth. “I wish I could remember that night. What did we do?”

  “We drank.”

  “Obviously.”

  “We danced.”

  “I’m an excellent dancer.”

  “Sure.” I nod placatingly at him. “You also asked me to marry you.”

  He’s amused by that. “I seem to recall you mentioning my head in your lap for fifteen minutes. When did that happen?”

  “When you passed out.”

  His face falls. “Did I pass out...during?”

  I realize what he’s implying. “What? No! You were laid down across my lap in the backseat of the car when we were taking your drunk ass home.”

  His forehead relaxes and he lets out a breath. “Oh good. I was afraid I’d have to turn in my Man Card.”

  I lean forward, placing my chin on my hands. “And what makes you think I’m the type of girl who would let your face between my thighs the first night we meet?”

  He tilts his head to the right, pink coming to his cheeks and ears, but he smiles big enough for those damn dimples to appear. “You really aren’t the blushing type.”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Good to know.” He leans in closer to me, his voice lower. “And just so you know, if I did get my mouth between your thighs, I’d stay awake. Promise.”

  Heat pools in my core at his words and I squeeze my legs together. The heat rises to my chest, but I’m not going to blush. I’m pretty sure I’m not blushing. Totally not blushing.

  Change of subject, please.

  “How’s Haley doing?” Shit, now I’m mad at myself for not asking about her sooner.

  Tuck looks down for a beat, staring at his coffee cup lid before meeting my eyes again. “I think she’s doing better. I heard her get up and she left the house yesterday, I think to go to class. I hope so, anyway.”