To Be Your Wife

by Rae Kennedy

  * * *

  I pick Haley up Friday afternoon after my last final. We get ready at my place for the party while the boys set up the keg, extra speakers, and tables for beer pong. Nick locked Gilbert in his room so he wouldn’t get stressed by all the partygoers.

  I pick out a tight, dark purple dress of mine for Haley to wear and a short shift dress for me made of gold and silver sequins. I don’t normally wear much makeup, just mascara and lip gloss, but I do occasionally like to get all dolled up. I do a simple liner for my eyes and then a deep wine color on my lips.

  I put my long hair up in a braided bun while Haley finishes her makeup.

  I stride back into the room carrying two shots of tequila. Haley is still wrangling her dark, curly hair.

  She gives me a groan. “I prefer vodka.”

  “I’ll make you a vodka-cran next.” I hand her the little glass and we each down them quickly with a cheer to the end of the semester.

  She makes a face after her shot, but I think it goes down rather smoothly. I love tequila. The last time I had tequila was...the first night I met Tuck.

  I leave to get two more shots. It’s as good a night as any to get shitfaced.

  * * *

  Nick has been entertaining Haley with obnoxiously loud stories and trying to show off his beer pong skills.

  Our small apartment is packed. There’s a line for the keg, which Josh is manning in the kitchen. People are shoulder-to-shoulder watching the rounds of beer pong in the dining room.

  The music in the living room is loud with heavy beats. The crowd in there is starting to dance and it’s a good thing this entire apartment complex is college students, so no one complains about the noise. That and most of the tenants are here.

  I make my way around the rooms, chatting with as many friends as I can. Making sure the drinks are replenished and everyone is having a good time. It’s hard to hear more than a foot away because of the music and boisterous conversations and laughter.

  Every time the door opens, I check who it might be.

  Many partygoers are starting to drift down the hall, leaning up against the walls holding their red cups to talk in more intimate pairs.

  I glance at my phone. No new texts.

  I wonder about the girl Tuck is on a date with tonight. Where did they meet? How well do they know each other? Is she younger or older than me? Is she pretty? Tall? Blonde? Or does she look completely different? Is she more his type?

  It’s almost midnight and I can only guess he is, indeed, having a good time on the date. Have they ended up at one of their places? I mean, I don’t care—

  There is some sort of commotion near the living room. Nick and Caleb run past me, disappearing into the crowd of people now amassing around whatever is going on.

  I manage to wedge myself through the maze of bystanders—both of Haley’s ex-boyfriends are in the center. Nick and Caleb are actively holding back Adam, the guy she dated before Cade. The entire left side of his jaw is pink and looks as though it’s starting to swell. The snarl on his face is like a rabid animal trying to attack.

  Cade is still, fists balled tight at his sides. Haley is standing behind him.

  How the fuck did I not notice either of them earlier?

  I run in the middle of them, my eyes darting between the two men and then to Haley, who looks mortified.

  “Get out of my house!” I yell. “Both of you!”

  They turn to leave, and I realize my heart is racing.

  There is a smashing sound. Adam has a mangled glass bottle in his hand and before I can comprehend it, Haley is in front of Cade to stop Adam’s attack. But he slashes. The glass slices down her arm, a gash almost from wrist to elbow immediately oozing crimson blood.

  Cade turns a second too late, his face losing all vigor when he sees the blood. He whips off his white shirt and wraps it around Haley’s arm then scoops her up and runs her out the door, telling her they’re going to the hospital.

  Holy shit.

  Adam is gone, that coward.

  Nick and Caleb start ushering everyone to leave, and I run to my room to call Tuck.

  “Are you calling to check on how my date’s going?” I can tell he’s smug-smiling through the phone.

  “No.” But now I am wondering about it. “Cade’s taken Haley to the hospital. There was an accident at the party, and she got a pretty bad cut on her arm.”

  “Oh my god. I’m already driving in from the city, but I’m still about an hour out.” He sounds panicky.

  “I don’t think it’s life-threatening, but there was a lot of blood and she’ll definitely need stitches.” I would have known that even if I hadn’t seen so many sports injuries.

  “Okay, thanks for letting me know.” His voice is calmer.

  “Of course. Will you update me when you know more? No matter what time it is.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  I pace around my room, waiting for an update from Tuck. To pass time I make sure everything is packed so I can head home for Christmas break in the morning. Technically, it’s already morning.

  Outside, snow is falling. Big fat clumps float to the ground in slow motion against the black sky.

  I idly fidget with my hands until Tuck calls. It’s after two.

  “She was in bad shape when I got here. They arrived just before me.”

  “What? They left before I called you.”

  “Someone slid into them at a four-way stop and Cade couldn’t drive. She lost a lot of blood while they waited for responders.”

  “Oh no! Is she okay?” Please let her be okay.

  “There were talks of life-flighting her to the city because of the blood shortage but Cade donated blood and they’re doing the transfusion now. They said if it goes smoothly, she’ll be fine.” His voice cracks and my chest tightens.

  “Do you want me to come there?”

  “Please.”

  * * *

  Tuck isn’t in the waiting room and an ice-cold chill runs through me. As I rush to the reception desk, I spot him out of the corner of my eye down the hallway. His back is to me, but I recognize his tall frame, his short dark hair, and his ears that stick out just a little too much.

  He is on the phone and doesn’t notice me walk up behind him.

  “I’m well aware what time it is.” His voice is authoritative with enough menace to make me stop. “Tell your client we have several witnesses to the incident between his son and my sister and we will be pressing charges. If he’d like to avoid court, as I suspect he would, we are willing to agree to certain conditions. They are as follows—are you ready?” He pauses for a moment. “You’ll want to write this down.”

  He is silent for a minute. Standing rigidly still.

  “Good. He will obviously pay for all medical expenses incurred, both current and any future bills that can be directly related to the incident. He will complete a minimum of one hundred hours of community service, the location and type of service to be approved by myself beforehand, in writing. Lastly, he will personally come and apologize to Haley’s face when she is fully recovered, and he better fucking mean it.”

  Tuck taps his foot. “Verbatim is fine with me. And tell your client he’s lucky it happened off campus or I’d be pushing for academic probation or expulsion as well. I’ll be expecting the response no later than noon tomorrow.”

  He ends the call and turns around. He’s wearing a black sweater and dark jeans. His strong jaw is clenched, full lips in a straight line and he looks very much in control—until he sees me.

  In one stride, he closes the distance between us. His arms are instantly around my shoulders, his face buried in my neck. I wrap myself around his middle as he leans into me. My face is pressed against his chest and he smells so good. He must have put on cologne...for his date.

  We sit in the uncomfortably worn-out floral upholstered chairs across from Cade. Cade’s head is in one hand, his fingers twisted in his dark blond hair. His other arm is expose
d, covered in intricate tattoos with a thick bandage wrapped tightly around his elbow, and rests on his knee which bounces up and down at a frantic pace.

  Tuck stands when a man with salt-and-pepper hair, and wearing a white coat comes into the waiting area. He tells us Haley is stable and resting. He mentions platelet counts and iron but I can only concentrate on Tuck and how easy it is to read the relief on his face and the emotion in his eyes.

  The doctor says they won’t allow any visitors until morning and we should go home and get some rest.

  “I’m staying,” Cade says resolutely.

  He and Tuck share a look of understanding and then Tuck turns, locking his hazel eyes on me.

  “Come home with me?”

  My heart lurches forward at his words and the damn fluttering in my stomach starts again. Butterflies. I have fucking butterflies.

  I take his hand as we walk to the parking lot.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.”

  His voice is a whisper across our pillows in the dark of his room.

  “She’s going to be fine, Tuck.” I find his hand under the covers and his fingers lace in mine without any coaxing.

  “It’s always been her and me. When our dad died, I was fourteen, but she was only nine. My mom did her best, but she had to get a second job and she didn’t have much extra time or emotional strength to share with us when she was barely managing to take care of herself. I vowed to always take care of Haley. And I did. I just...what if...” His voice trails off. “As a lawyer, we’re taught to plan for the worst-case scenario. Losing Haley is my worst-case and I am not even a little prepared for that.”

  I squeeze his hand. “She’s okay.”

  He wraps his fingers around my hand tightly and holds on through the night as we sleep.

  CHAPTER 8

  I didn’t want to leave Tuck’s bed this morning, but I made the drive home and now here I am, stirring green beans in bacon drippings. Gracie has been sequestered in her room most of the day, having skipped her Saturday morning cheer practice. Mom thinks she must be ill and has, therefore, enlisted me to help her prepare dinner.

  As I’m adding what I hope is the appropriate amount of salt and pepper, my back pocket vibrates.

  Tuck: Haley’s awake and looks good. They’re going to discharge her in the morning.

  Me: I’m so glad! Thanks for the update.

  “Smells good in here!” My dad’s voice booms as his heavy boot-steps clomp on the wood floors. He walks over to my mom and kisses her on the cheek. “And how are my beautiful ladies?” He pinches my mom’s soft hip and she smacks his hand but laughs while she does it.

  “Go get cleaned up. Supper’s almost ready,” she says to him, then turns to check on her casserole in the oven. She sweeps a coppery lock of hair behind her ear, revealing gray hairs at her temple.

  My dad doesn’t think I notice him checking her out when she bends over as he leaves the kitchen.

  * * *

  Sunday after church, I finish my chores then text Tuck.

  Me: How’s Haley doing? Are you guys home yet?

  Tuck: Just got home, she’s good, resting

  I make a mental note to call her later.

  Me: How many stitches did she need?

  Tuck: 28

  Me: Ouch

  Me: How are you doing?

  The little dots blink on my screen as he’s typing, but then they disappear. A few seconds later.

  Tuck: Better

  Tuck: How are you? How did you sleep last night?

  I don’t want to think about how long I tossed and turned in bed this morning before finally giving up and showering.

  Me: Not great

  Tuck: What’s your address? I want to send you something

  That’s...interesting. I type in my address.

  Me: What for?

  Tuck: Consider it a Christmas present, but don’t wait until Christmas to open it.

  * * *

  Dinner that night is more chaotic than normal. Charlie is trying to get the baby to eat any of the orange-colored mush in front of him. I think most of it has ended up in his hair or up his nose and the baby squeals with delight.

  Jack and Emily have given up trying to make the boys sit politely so the two ruffians are instead playing with pretend swords across the room.

  Eric brought a date to dinner—Tara. She was a year ahead of me in school. Her eyes are currently wide but she’s doing a good job of answering my parents’ rapid-fire questions. I don’t think they realize the intensity of their drilling. But I do think Eric realizes his mistake in bringing her to Sunday family dinner.

  Gracie would normally revel in a new face at the dinner table, but she hasn’t joined the conversation and has barely touched her plate.

  Wes nudges me with his elbow, and I turn toward his dazzling smile and bright blue eyes.

  His arm remains against mine as he leans in.

  “Anything new with you?”

  “No.”

  The answer is automatic, but my body knows it’s a lie as soon as Tuck’s face flashes in my mind. Tuck and the stupid butterflies. My heart starts pounding and surely Wes can read it on my face.

  But he just smiles at me and takes a bite of his chicken.

  “Me neither,” he says.

  * * *

  A couple of days later a small package arrives for me. I don’t know what sort of gift I’m expecting from Tuck, but when I pull out a pillowcase with a giant ass picture of his face on it—that wasn’t it.

  Haley and I have been texting and I want to send her a picture of the ridiculousness so we can laugh at it together, but I’d have a lot of explaining to do first. Actually, after I put it on my pillow and set it on my bed, I realize no one can know about this and I promptly turn it over so it’s Tuck-side-down.

  Me: Thanks?

  Tuck: It will be like I’m there with you, thought it might help you sleep.

  Me: I don’t think it will be quite the same

  Tuck: Just give it a try

  When I get in bed, I do flip it over, though. I imagine the mattress sinking with Tuck’s weight. I try to hear the melody of his breathing while he sleeps.

  It doesn’t work.

  * * *

  By the third night, it stays facedown.

  Tuck: How’s Pillow-Tuck working?

  Me: Sadly, it’s not

  Tuck: Dang. I was really hoping it’d help

  Me: I think I just need the real thing

  I immediately regret hitting send. Did I just imply I need him in bed?

  I am cringing, waiting for Tuck’s reply when Gracie trudges past my bedroom door with a frown on her face, her bookbag sliding off her shoulder. She’s just getting home after her last day of school before her Christmas break and she should be ecstatic.

  I set my phone down and call her name. She doesn’t respond right away but stops in the hallway.

  “Come talk with me for a minute.”

  She pokes her head in the doorway. “What about?”

  “Just sit.” I pat the quilt next to me.

  She drops her bag on the floor and sits, her lips still in a pout.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  Gracie looks down and to the left. “Nothing.”

  “C’mon. I know something’s wrong.”

  She gives me that tortured, ‘I’m bored’ teenage look, but her blue eyes are sad.

  “I’m not going to stop bugging you ‘til you tell me, so you might as well get it over with.”

  She chews on the inside of her cheek for a minute, still looking away. “Tanner and I broke up.”

  I nod. I already knew this thanks to social media. “What else?”

  She scowls at me. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “You dated for less than a month and it’s been three weeks since the break-up. I know there is something else.”

  She lets out a hard breath. “Fine.” She looks back up to me, meet
ing my eyes. The snarky teenage attitude melting away. “He dumped me because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

  Fucking teenage boys. I sit silently, letting her continue.

  “And, honestly, it made me glad I hadn’t, if that’s the kind of guy he is.”

  Good girl, Gracie.

  “But then I heard he told the whole football team I’m a prude and a stuck-up bitch. When I walk down the halls, it feels like everyone is talking about me.”

  “Oh, Gracie,” I say as I grab her hands. “I know everything happening right now seems big, but once you’re done with high school, you’ll realize how insignificant it all is.”

  “Thanks,” she deadpans.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to minimize your problems. I say put your head down, focus on graduating, forget the gossip, and before you know it, they’ll be talking about something else.”

  She gives a tiny nod.

  “And, seriously, forget about the high school guys. They’re not worth your time and definitely don’t sleep with them. They have no idea what they’re doing anyway.”

  She cracks a wide smile at me, filled with her pretty white teeth.

  “Also, I need you to know that not having sex with a guy does not make you prude. And if you do have sex with a guy, that doesn’t make you a slut.”

  “Even if I’m not in love with him? I mean, shouldn’t the first time be special or something?”

  “It’d be hypocritical of me to say you need to be in love with a guy to sleep with him. I am happy I was in love with the person I lost my virginity to, but you’re eighteen and you’re in charge of your body and what you want to do with it. Know who you are and stay true to that person. Respect yourself with your decisions and most importantly, make sure the person you’re with respects you. What anyone else thinks is unimportant.”

  “Thanks, Court.”

  For the first time since I’ve been home all break, she looks like the happy, unencumbered little sister I adore.

  My phone buzzes from behind Gracie and she instinctively grabs it for me. The text is bright on the screen and she glances at it as she hands it over.

  “Who’s Tuck?”