Page 3 of First Comes Marriage
“Why are you sorry?” I question.
“Because I had to call you at work,” she wails, breaking down again.
“It’s okay. Where are Anni and Thad?”
I can hear her swallow from the other end of the line before she informs me, “Both are at sports camp. Abuela already called and Mr. Jones is going to drive up there to pick them up.”
“Let them know I’m coming, Arya. It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I love you,” I tell her.
“Love you too, Dex. Hurry,” she whispers.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” I tell Brock. He’s been my best friend since we were in elementary school and is currently sitting on the back porch with me as I have a few beers to settle my overwrought nerves.
It’s been a bit since I came home, and I’m shocked to see just how bad the house has gotten. It’s in disrepair and looks nothing like it did the last time I came home for a visit. My father was screwed over by a contractor who left shit half-finished when he added on two mother-in-law suites so my grandmothers would have their own space in order for them to keep living independently and not feel as if they were underfoot. He tried for years to get it all fixed, but I think the subsequent contractors made the whole situation even worse in the long run. Abuela and Nonna argued in the beginning about moving in with my parents, not wanting to feel as if they were a burden. Not only that, but now that I’m here and we’ve had the funerals, I just got a visit today from someone with child services.
Glancing at the letter once again, I read,
Mr. Armstrong,
While we can appreciate your unique situation, please be advised that your minor siblings will go into foster care unless you’re willing to accept guardianship. Because of their ages, as well as the ages of your grandmothers, they are not suitable guardians for the children.
Please advise this office of how you wish to proceed.
Sincerely,
Betty Davis
“What about a marriage of convenience?’ Brock asks, his brows crinkled as he thinks of a solution to my current problem. At my stumped look, he continues. “Look, if you marry someone, they’d be able to watch the kids while you’re out of town, your grandmas could help, and you could still do your thing work-wise.”
“Do you think it would work?” I question. “I mean, what woman in her right mind would want to take on three grieving kids and two senior women who are crazy as hell?”
He chuckles because with Nonna constantly swearing in Italian, while Abuela curses in Spanish, it’s anyone’s guess what is actually happening. They bitch about the other’s cooking, they complain about how the kids are dressed, and don’t even get me started on cleaning.
“I think if you found the right one, it would be a perfect solution to keeping the kids out of the state's hands,” he replies. “I know both of your grandmas are fruitier than bananas, but they love the kids and I think it would kill them if your siblings went into foster care, don’t you?” They aren’t the only ones who’d be affected by that. I may not be close to my siblings, but they’re my family, my blood, and I couldn’t live with myself if I put me and my bachelor life before them and their future. They belong here where they were raised, loved, and sheltered. What kind of man would I be if I ripped that safety and security away fromthem? An asshole, that’s for damn sure. I’d never be able to face a mirror again without wanting to smash it into tiny shards.
“What are you suggesting, exactly, Brock? And how do you have a woman in your pocket you can pluck out and toss at the altar? I’m not sure how I feel about asking a woman to put her future on hold to take care of my siblings and run our household.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Dex,” Brock assures me.
“Then explain it to me,” I demand. “Because I don’t know anyone who’d be willing to do that.”
I hope he doesn’t mean his sister. Mindy’s a great woman, but there’s not even a hint of attraction on my end toward her. Not that we need that, necessarily, because I don’t plan on bedding a woman who’s here as a favor. Most certainly not his sister, but we’ll be tied together for quite some time seeing as Arya’s only eight right now. Asking someone to put their life on hold for ten years is a lot to ask of someone in my opinion.
Now, if it was her friend, Jolie, I might consider it. While I never looked at her in that way when we were teenagers, the last time Iwashome and happened to be hanging out at Brock’s parents’ house, she was over and she’s definitely all grown up now. I mean, there’s an age gap, but once Arya was considered an adult by the state, she’d still be young enough to find someone else and build a family.
“I may know of someone and it’s not Mindy,” he states, reading my mind. “Do you remember her friend, Jolie? She’s still single and she’s not hard on the eyes. From what she shared with Mindy, which I may or may not have been eavesdropping on, she has no plans on marrying for love and birthing any kids. Something about there not being a promise of tomorrow andthose she loves always leave her. And… it just so happens she’s got her degree in early childhood development, which will help when it comes to this social worker, plus she’s as skilled of a carpenter as her grandfather was! It would be a win-win for you. Get the house fixed up, let her help the kids through their grief, and you can keep taking your contracts and provide for them.”
“Everyone always leaves her?” I ask, suddenly sad for the woman I barely know outside of an acquaintance type of relationship. Sure, we used to haul them to the mall and shit, but it’s not like I’ve ever had any major in-depth conversations with her. Our interests were too different, not to mention the age gap which was a thorn of contention for me leaving space between us when it came to forming a friendship. Hell, I’ve always kept Mindy at arm’s length for the same reason.
“You know her grandparents raised her after her parents died when she was around two years old, right? Well, then her grandmother died from cancer, and when she was fourteen, her grandfather died which sent her to foster care. Only, she was considered unadoptable because of her age, so she lived in the group home in town. From my understanding, she’s been bullied and crucified because of her scars and limp. Which sucks because she survived something so horrific that she should be put up on an altar and not condemned.”
I vaguely remember her limping around, but it never really crossed my mind as to why. As for her scars, she always wore jeans when she was riding with us, so I had no clue she had any at all.
“I guess that makes sense. Okay, Brock, you talk to Mindy and feel her out. See if she thinks her friend would go for something like that.”
It’s not a great plan, but it’s all I have right now. I just hope it doesn’t blow up in my damn face.
Chapter Two
