Page 45 of Maid of Dishonor

“Yes,” she says hesitantly. “I—I think so. And I said I would. And I want—” She breaks off, her eyes getting noticeably glassy. “I want my baby to have a mom and a dad, okay? It’s important to me.”

I look at Sam, my poor little sympathetic crier, whose eyes are now starting to mist over in response to Maya’s own threatening tears. If I don’t lighten things up, there are going to be two crying women who might also vomit at any moment.

“So,” I begin.

“Oh, right,” Maya says, sniffling and then sitting up straighter. She blinks forcefully a few times. “I want to marry Chet, but…you said you had bad news?”

Is it just me, or does she sound…hopeful? Eager, even? Like shewantsreasons not to go through with this wedding?

I grin. I can work with that. “Terrible news,” I say, nodding. “We found you a venue, but it’s sixties themed. Orange shag carpet—”

“Wood-paneled walls,” Sam adds.

I nod again. “Green furniture. One of those massive stone fireplaces Grandma had in that old house.”

Maya’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

I nod again, my voice solemn as I say, “Dead serious.” Then I hold up a finger. “But,” I say, “they do have an Elvis impersonator they contract out with, the lady said. So you could have him sing, if you wanted—”

“What? No! No Elvis.” Maya chews on her bottom lip, and I see her eyes dart to the poster hung next to the window.Pay attention to the voice of the universe,it reads. When she looks back to me, she says, “That’s the only place available?”

I swallow against the little twinge of guilt I feel knowing I’m about to lie. Am I taking this too far?

But then I think of her hopeful eyes when she asked for my bad news, her anger when she talked about Chet flirting with some woman, her hesitation when she said she still wanted to marry him.

I feel for Maya—I really do. She’s clearly completely torn. She desperately wants a partner for herself and a father for her child. But I don’t think she wantsChet.

So I feel a little less guilty as I say, “This is the best place we found.”

And it’s nottechnicallya lie—the themed place was the least expensive. We just…didn’t look very hard.

“That’s not good,” Maya says, looking at the poster again before glancing back to me. “Okay. Well, I’ll let Chet know. He probably won’t care.” She rolls her eyes. “I told him he needed to be more supportive, so we’re going to the bank sometime to open up our joint checking account. He’s been really enthusiastic about that. He really misses spending time with me since we can’t do a lot of the stuff we used to do—rock climbing and hiking and stuff.”

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

And it hits me:that’swhy Chet’s ultimately agreeing to get married. He lives in a trailer and has a part time job that he tries to get out of as often as possible. If he has access to her steady finances and access to all the women he wants under the guise of an open marriage, he thinks he’s set.

I shoot Sam a worried look, and she gives me the same look in return.

“Maybe you should hold off on that. Just…you know. To make sure you don’t change your mind,” I say.

The fact that Maya gives me no response tells me that she sees the wisdom in my words, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

As we wrap up our conversation and then head out, promising to look into finding a caterer, I look over at Sam. “We need to find some more convincing signs from the universe.”

Sam nods slowly, looking thoughtful. Then she smiles, a mischievous grin that sets my heart tripping over itself. “I might have a couple ideas,” she says.

“Great,” I say, relieved. “Hit me with it.”

“All right,” she says as we get in the car. Then she nods to my phone in my pocket. “Take notes as I drive?”

“Yeah, definitely.” I pull my phone out.

“Okay. So—and this is just off the top of my head—I think whatever our ‘signs’ are, they should be more mystical in nature.” She glances over her shoulder and in the rearview mirror as she backs out of Maya’s driveway, and then she continues. “I think that’s the kind of thing she’ll be the most accepting of, right?”

“Right,” I say, nodding. “Mystical,” I add under my breath as I type it into my phone. Then I look over at her. “Anything specific you had in mind?”

“Yes, actually. I was noticing some of the things in her house, and you know that star chart she has? The one with the constellations?”