Page 33 of Takedown

Ma’s grip tightens on Mel’s hands, and her mouth hangs open. She stares at me, and I stare right back, giving her my most innocent smile.

“The church?” Mel asks, aghast.

“Oh, Mel. I would hate to leave this earth without seeing my baby married with my own eyes. It will give me great comfort in my last days.”

Mel lets out a soft gasp. “Your last days? Are you sick, Molly?”

“We’re all born with an expiration date, darling. I would just hate for my date to come up and not see my baby marry his beautiful bride. I have no other children.”

Mel clears her throat and looks around the room. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, and I hold my breath until she speaks. Mel closes her mouth and exhales loudly. Her shoulders sag, and I know that’s the exact moment she resigns herself to a church wedding.

“Something small,” she says after a strained silence. “And I’d want my sister-in-law and best friend Ananda to help us.” My mother whoops in victory.

She claps her hands together right before she takes Mellie in a hug. “Finn!! We’re having a wedding!”

“Bedding? Are they spending the night? Adam!”

19

She doesn’t say a word the entire ride home. When dinner was over, Ma grabbed Mel and pulled her out of the kitchen. Once I finished cleaning, I found them in the living room looking at wedding dresses online. My mom had an iPad, and she was taking notes. Before we left, they made plans to go to the nail salon next weekend. To make sure it happens, my mother volunteered to pick Mel up Saturday afternoon.

“You okay, Mel? You haven’t said a word in ages.” I pull my car into my spot in the back of the house and rest a hand on hers.

She doesn’t pull her hand away, but when she finally looks into my eyes, I can see the uncertainty and worry on her face. I lift my hand from hers and run a finger along her jawline.

“What are we doing, Adam? We only agreed to be together for a year, and now your mother is planning a wedding. A goddamn wedding. In a church. I can’t do this.” She throws her hands up, opens the door to the truck, and jumps out.

With my heart in my throat, I open my own door and catch up with her before she can get too far.

“We’ve got to tell her the truth. She’s a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be lied to. And why would we spend money on a wedding anyway? I’m saving to buy a house and you just spent a bunch on furniture.” I wrap my arm around her, and neither one of us speaks again until we get inside.

We spent most of yesterday getting rid of things that Mel wants replaced, including the couch and coffee table. The only thing left in the living room is my recliner.

I help her with her coat, and while she pulls off her boots, I hang everything in the closet.

“Hold on to the credit card to pay for the wedding.” A boot drops from her hand, and her head snaps up.

“You really want to do this?”

“We promised my mother.” She hangs her head down and her hair falls and covers her face. I run a hand through her silky mane. “Don’t worry about the cost, okay,” I say, trying to put her at ease.

“I don’t want you to be in debt. We don’t have to do this. Let’s tell her we had a fight and I left. You can blame the entire thing on me. Tell her I’m a flake, but I can’t do this to you or her.” She stands up and walks to the bedroom. I find her in the closet grabbing her suitcase. I close and lock the door behind me.

I put an arm around her waist and lift her with one hand. She protests, but I drop her on the bed and jump in beside her.

“Mel, relax.”

“I feel bad, Adam. We picked a date for our wedding. And we’re supposed to have this wedding and get a divorce four months later? That’s insane.”

“We don’t have to get a divorce next year, Melanie,” I all but snap at her. That takes the wind out of her sails. “There’s no law that says we have to end things in a year or a hundred years.”

“It was a drunken mistake,” she says.

I turn on my side, and she does the same. “Listen to me carefully when I say this. I wasn’t drunk.”

I can tell she’s stopped breathing while she stares at me. “Remember what you said to me that night?”

She opens and closes her mouth several times. “You know I don’t remember.” She can’t hold my stare as she utters those words. Words that I know are lies, but maybe she’s just not ready to face the truth yet, so I simply nod.

---