Page 42 of The Fake Husband Play
My brows lift. “Yeah? I didn’t know that about your mom. That’s so cool. Did she come here from Haiti when you were little, or?—”
“No,hermom did. When she was a little girl. But Grammy clung tight to her culture. She had dreams of going home again, but…it didn’t work out. She and my grandaddy fell on hard times, lost their land, and eventually moved to Canada. Last we heard, they were in Michigan somewhere, not far from Detroit, but…” He shrugs. “We’re not sure where. When my mama refused to go with them, they decided they weren’t interested in staying in touch.”
I wince. “I’m sorry, but I get it. I really do. I have no idea where my real parents are.”
“I’m sorry, too, but probably for the best,” he says. “Like with my dad. If a parent can look at a sweet baby who needs their love and protection, and just walk away…” His lip curls. “Well, they didn’t deserve the gift they were given.”
“Agreed. And my foster parents were wonderful. I wish I knew more about my biological parents for health reasons, so I might know more about where Mimi’s condition came from and any other DNA minefields waiting in the wings. But otherwise? You’re right. I’m better off without them.”
“Speaking of parents who hit the road,” he says in a more cautious voice, “can I ask you something a little…personal?”
“We gotmarriedtoday, Grammercy,” I say, the words sending a thrill through me, despite the strange circumstances. “Even a fake marriage entitles a person to a few personal questions. So yeah, fire away.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate that,” His lips quirk up, but a smile doesn’t form, and his tone is serious as he asks, “Where’s Mimi’s dad? Why isn’t he helping with any of this? The cost of raising a child, parenting, healthcare?”
The question is gentle, but direct, a fact I appreciate.
I like direct. It saves time and makes me feel more respected than people who dance around the fact that my baby daddy bailed, like it’s somethingIshould be ashamed of.
“Um, well…” I sigh. “The short answer is he’s in grad school in Canada, probably explaining Proust to undergrads and pretending his sperm never went rogue.”
Grammercy’s eyebrows shoot up with a judgmental grunt. I can’t help but enjoy a little, even though I let go of my anger at my ex a long time ago. “And the long answer?”
I take another sip of my beer, rolling the bottle between my palms as I murmur, “Johnny Castellane. Editor of the school newspaper, crazy good artist, Columbia-bound on a full ride. Also charming, fun, and possessed of the most persuasive ‘just the tip’ argument in teen history.”
His brow furrows sympathetically. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I slouch deeper into the lounger, which is surprisingly forgiving. It’s honestly more comfortable than the couch I’ve been sleeping on for the past year. “We were both seventeen, both convinced we were poet scholars in love. I was going to get my degree in journalism, he was going to study the classics and become a tweed-wearing professor…” I sigh. “We dreamed of studying in Scotland and buying a castle together someday. Instead, I got pregnant, his parents freaked out, and the Castellanes moved to Toronto. He wrote meoneemail, apologizing for leaving me to ‘figure things out’ alone and offering to send money for an abortion, but…that’s it. When I said I wanted to keep the baby, I never heard from him again.”
“Would you like me to hunt him down and introduce his ass to my foot?” he asks. “I have a game in Toronto later this season. Wouldn’t be a bit of trouble.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m over it. Really, I am. He got that ‘bright academic future’ his mom was so worried about me ruining and…I got Mimi.” I shoot him a smile. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I think I came out on top.”
Grammercy’s expression softens. “You sure did. She’s a special kid, but still… What aboutyourbright academic future? You’re smart as a whip, woman. My mama made me read a book a week since I was six years old, and you still use words I have to look up on my phone sometimes. Ever thought of going back to school? I bet you’d do great.”
The compliment touches me more than he knows.
Ever since that positive pregnancy test at seventeen, so many people have automatically assumed I must have the IQ of a promiscuous poodle. I’m cute and all, but clearly not too bright. The newsroom was the first place to look past my GED and lack of college degree and see that I had a mind worth putting to use. All my other jobs were mindless grunt work that left me feeling hollow at the end of the day.
“Thank you,” I say, resisting the urge to squeeze his arm. Getting into the habit of touching him isn’t a good idea. Still, I’m sure my heart is in my eyes as I add, “That means so much to me, Grammercy. Really. And yeah, I have thought about it, but…” I shrug. “Honestly, there’s never been enough money or time. But maybe now, with rent off my plate, and once I find a job…” I smile. “Maybe remote classes could be on the table. I do have time at night, after Mimi’s asleep.”
Time I’ve been using to make an obsessive fan podcast about you, in fact…
The thought makes my throat close up.
I have to tell him about the podcast. Right? Before hefinds out on his own and decides I’m a creepylyingstalker, not just a normal stalker?
But how to tell real life Grammercy who’s becoming my friend that I’m the most cringeworthy human on the planet?
“We could always get a sitter for Mimi after school or whatever, if you wanted to go to classes in person,” Grammercy says, seeming excited at the thought.
Excited forme.A stranger he barely knows. God, if I weren’t already half in love with him, I would be falling fast.
As things stand, when he adds, “We could also get a sitter for fun. Any interest in a date this weekend? To celebrate?”—I nearly fall out of my lounge chair.
“A date?” I ask, my voice hitching into an embarrassing squeak.
His nervous smile is as charming as his flirty one. Maybe even more charming, if such a thing is possible. “I mean, I know it wasn’t a real wedding, but it still feels like something worth celebrating. It’s a fresh start, with new opportunities in it, and I’m off Friday and Saturday after the opening game. Coach decided to give us some time off to decompress after the grind of camp and all the publicity building up to the season opener. It would be nice to burn off some steam, maybe hit a blues club?”
