Page 51 of The Marriage Deal
“Yes,” I croak.
Clearly it does the trick, because Mom’s smile turns soft. “Then leap, baby.”
“Oh, I’m leaping.” They have no idea just how far the fall is from this leap. I’m not sure, if they knew, they’d be cheering me on like this.
Dad pats my back with his big hand. The samehand that bakes all the delicious treats he loves so much. But those hands are more than baker’s hands. They’re my father’s hands. The hands I always fall back into when the world feels unsafe. The hands I always find the courage to leap from again and again, trusting with the trust only a child can give to her father, that she can always come home again if that leap turns bad.
I press a kiss that trembles onto his cheek. He chuckles softly, feeling the same overwhelm of emotion that I feel, no doubt.
“You’re going to be fine, kiddo.”
“And if I’m not?”
“You come home,” he confirms what I already know. “You can always come home.”
“You guys know you’re the bestest parents a girl could ask for, right?”
“Oh, we know.” Mom slides her arm around Dad’s back as she snuggles into his side. Like always, he drops an arm over her shoulders to hold her just as close.
It’s natural, the two of them. They come together like water. Easy and fluid. A melding that is simply meant to be. I can’t imagine one without the other, and I’ve always wanted what they have for myself. Always thought I’d find it. That great love that hits fast and hard and blends into a seamless life of lasting love. Affection and devotion. Beauty.
Am I sacrificing my chance at ever finding a great love for myself by doing this with Briggs?
My heart squeezes in my chest. It’s painful and raw.
I force a bright smile through it. “Well, this is it.”
“The first day of the rest of your life.” Mom beams through the words she’s said more times than I can count. First days of school, first dates, graduations, and now…moving in with the man who is to be my husband. Only, she doesn’t know the divorce is already pre-planned. Set in stone.
I swipe my car keys from the deck railing and give them a little wave before I start to cry. I’m relieved Dakota is on a job in Kelowna, or this would be even harder. He has an uncanny way of seeing through my bullshit in a way that Mom and Dad just can’t. He’d know something was off. And then he’d dig until he found out what that something was.
Then he’d flip.
I’m going to have to figure out a way to keep the sham of my marriage from him, because he wouldn’t be so willing to go along with this adventure as Madelyn.
Giving my parents a wave behind the glass of my car window, I send up a little prayer to the universe that, as much as I adore my parents, I’ll never find myself seeking sanctuary in their home again.
Mom blows a kiss that I pretend to catch. The door to the house beside ours opens and Opal steps onto the front porch with a scowling May on her heels. I should have known they’d be watching the events of the morning.
Within just a few hours, the town will know I’ve officially moved out of Mom and Dad’s house. They’ll know I’ve moved in with Briggs.
I give my parents and Opal one final wave, then I drive away to begin the first day of the rest of my life.
Briggs is already standingwith Madelyn under the sprawling covered front porch. A beautiful golden dog who is sitting prettily on his rump close to Madelyn’s side, looking a little unnerved at the change in his whereabouts flaps his tail on the stone as I stand from my car.
I shoot a big, beaming smile at the pooch to hide my nerves as I crouch and call, “Senior!”
Senior’s rump lifts from the stone and tail wagging, he moves to me. It’s not a run, but there is a boogie to his walk that lets me know he’s happy to see me. If it weren’t for that tail wagging boogie, I’d know by the sloppy kiss he lands on my hand before I give him the scratch behind his ears that he loves.
“Hey, boy,” I coo as I greet. “I’m happy to see you, too.”
“I brought a bag of food and the brush he likes. You’re going to want to keep up on brushing him. He’s a shedder.”
Briggs makes a noise. I pretend I don’t hear it. In fact, I’m having a hard time acknowledging him at all.
Goodness, I’m moving into the man’s house, and I can’t even summon the courage to look at him. What is wrong with me?
A lot. A lot is wrong with me. If there weren’t so much wrong with me, I wouldn’t be doing this. Wouldn’t be moving in with a man I hardly know—marrying him—for money!
