Page 4 of First Comes Marriage
Jolie
“Gah, today was ridiculous,” Mindy grumbles, tossing her arms over her eyes as she flops down on my bed. I’m staying in the farmhouse, trying to fix it up since it needs renovating. I still don’t know whether or not I’ll sell it since it’s the only thing I have left of my birth family. All of my good memories are wrapped up in these walls. I feel a sense of love in each peel of wallpaper and chip of paint.
Once I aged out of the system, I was able to access the inheritance and trust that my grandfather left me, which meant I was able to work during the day for Dale, who bought out my grampy’s company, and go to school at night to earn my certification. Now that I have my degree, I substitute teach at the local elementary school, but most of my days are otherwise spent with my toolbelt around my waist while I complete necessary tasks. Both jobs pay well, and I’ve been able to add to what was left for me, so I’ll never have to worry about money again.
Because while I was a ward of the state, everything was fair game. I babysat for spending money, which meant I had some financial independence outside of the stipend the state provided to me, and so I could feel like a normal teenager whenever Mindy and I went anywhere, but none of my stuff was safe from others. If another girl wanted one of my shirts, she’d just take it and I’d never see it again. And there was no reason to go to the house parent because they refused to get in the middle of such mundane things. One even had the gall to wave me off and say, “girls will be girls,” and suggested I learn how to share. It got to the point where I left my important stuff at Mindy’s house where it was effectively locked away from their greedy hands, because I knew she’d keep it safe for me. She even kept my money in a lockbox underneath her bed after I had some of my paycheck come up missing. According to the group I interrogated, they claimed it was ‘borrowed’ one day, only the stolen money was never replaced. Go figure. She’s been the keeper of my secrets for a very long time, but she tends to be a bit… dramatic. Me on the other hand, having survived everything I have, tend to be more pragmatic than anything.
Shaking my head to dislodge those unpleasurable memories, I ask, “What happened?”
“Do you remember Brock’s friend, Dex?” she questions.
Do I ever! I had a lot of inappropriate thoughts about him as a young teenage girl. I never acted on them since he was several years older than me, but he was the person I held up as a standard whenever I was asked out on a date. I know I shouldn’t compare people, it’s like comparing apples to oranges, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from going there. Stupid, I know, because we never really talked outside of the passing hi and bye.Sure, he and Brock would pick on the two of us, but it wasn’t like I would’ve considered either of them a friend.
“What about him? I mean, we just went to the funerals for his parents last week, remember?” I reply.
“Well, Brock says that Dex just got a letter from the state saying that his younger siblings will go into foster care unless he takes over guardianship of them,” she says. My heart drops at that prospect, I would hate for them to not only be separated from their family, but because I know how brutal the system can be on one’s fragile heart. The taunting and teasing I took after one of the girls heard me crying into my pillow one night because I missed Grampy so much still resonates in my mind, even all these years later.
I’ve actually subbed for all of their teachers a few times since I graduated; they’re good kids, but I can’t imagine how they’re feeling having lost their parents the way they did. “I thought their grandmothers lived with them?” I question.
Small town living is both a curse and a blessing. Everyone knows each other’s business, but it also means that when someone has a need, folks are able to step up and help. For instance, I know Dex has been home a few weeks now dealing with the funerals for his parents. I went with Mindy to the viewing, of course, but other than signing my name in the guest book, I didn’t really speak to him. What can you say to someone whose world has been flipped upside down? Nothing that’ll make their loss easier on them, trust me, I know how that feels. I did hug each of the kids, though, as well as Abuela Maria and Nonna Josephine. Those two old ladies are equal parts hysterical and terrifying, but I’m envious of Arya, Anniston, and Thad because they have both women, even though, from my observations, there are constant culture clashes.
Abuela Maria is a beautiful Hispanic woman. Even knowing that Dex’s parents were in their mid-fifties when they died, there’s simply no way that Abuela Maria is in her seventies. Her hair is so dark it looks black, and her skin is smooth and unlined. She wears bright, colorful skirts and full, blousy tops, and has always been kind to me whenever she came to the school and I was teaching. Plus, her tamales are absolute fire.
Nonna Josephine is a tiny spitfire. Since she became a widow, she wears solid black clothing. Every day, even in the heat of summer and trust me, it gets hotter than Hades on the coast. According to Arya, who is a little chatterbox, her brother had to put in a second stove because Abuela always wants to cook Mexican dishes, while Nonna insists on traditional Italian fare. She kind of reminds me of Sophia fromThe Golden Girlstoo, because her hair is that frosted blue that a lot of older women seem to have, and it’s always impeccably styled. Arya says she has a standing appointment at the beauty parlor every Saturday for a wash and set.
All three kids are multi-lingual and it’s not uncommon for them to lapse into Spanish or Italian while interspersing English whenever they get excited. Their zest for life is one of the reasons I enjoy teaching so much. They’re not afraid to ask questions when they don’t understand something, and will definitely challenge their teacher, respectfully of course, whenever they feel the information is incorrect.
“What is he going to do?” I question as the family dynamics roll around in my head.
She rolls over and onto her side so she’s looking straight at me and says, “Brock seems to think if Dex marries someone, he can retain guardianship of the kids.”
That would be a good solution, however I don’t remember hearing about him being serious enough with somebody to marry them. “Is Dex even dating anyone? I mean, doesn’t he work offshore on the oil rigs and stuff?”
“He travels a lot for work and can be gone for weeks at a time depending on his current contract. Brock says he’s single as a pringle,” she replies, giggling. “No, they’re looking at a marriage of convenience, Jolie.”
“What makes that so ridiculous?” I ask. “That would be the perfect solution. I think they still do mail order brides.”
My heart drops. Again. Okay, the secret place inside my heart that not even Mindy is aware of. Because what they’re thinking of doing would be perfect for me. I don’t plan to ever fall in love or get married. Not for myself, anyway. If it were to save these children from placement, I’d be the first one to raise my hand and offer myself up as tribute. That way, I can’t be hurt again when I’m abandoned and left alone. I know that it wasn’t my parents’ fault, nor my grandparents for that matter, but the fact remains that all of them loved me but left. Even if it was unintentional, I don’t plan on letting anyone ever have enough power over me again to make me feel that way. Once bitten, twice shy. Or in my case, four times bitten, never again.
“Because they feel like you’d be the perfect candidate, Jo,” she whispers. If I were drinking something I’d end up spewing it all over the place when those words escape her lips.
“What? How? More importantly,why?” I shriek, my heart now pounding so hard I can feel my blood pulsing through my veins.
She no longer meets my gaze as she mumbles, “Because Brock overheard us talking that one day.”
I know right now I look like a comic book character with my eyes practically bugging out of my head. “What?” I whisper. I didn’t even realize he was at home. “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” I muse. Those were my secret thoughts that I was sharing with Mindy. I never would’ve done it if I had known Brock was anywhere in the vicinity.
“It might end up being a good thing, Jolie,” she encourages. “Think about it. Here’s a few things you should consider before blurting out the word no like I know you are dying to do. For one, you love teaching the kids, you get along with both of the grandmothers, and from what Brock says, their house is a hot mess. And the icing on the cake… you could renovate to your heart’s content!”
As if those reasons alone are a good enough reason. I grip the bridge of my nose between my fingers, trying to ward off the impending headache I know is going to strike from this asinine conversation. “Mindy,” I drawl out, her name now having far more than two syllables. “You’ve gone from telling me that the love of my life just hasn’t found me yet to advocating for this. What on earth? Did you get sunstroke or something?”
She bursts out laughing as she rolls across my bed. “No, goofy, I’m perfectly sane, I promise. It’s not the worst idea ever, and you’d help keep three kids out of the state’s clutches.”
“Low blow, wench,” I grumble, she’s well aware that what she’s just said will pull at my heartstrings and I’ll have a hard time saying no. Even though earlier I thought about sticking my hand up and offering myself up on a silver platter, the reality of it is far different than the fantasy was. “And Dex is on board with all of this?” I slowly question as I turn it over in my head.
I mean, I could finish up the renovations of the farmhouse in my spare time and maybe rent it out instead of selling it, especially since the market is so wishy-washy right now, which would give me passive income coming in, plus I’d still work for the company, and also substitute teach when needed. I would need the flexibility to handle the kids’ schedules, plus I would want to make sure that because their household is multicultural, I know what not to do so I won’t offend anyone. It’s a lot to consider, and I’m starting to feel somewhat overwhelmed.
“According to Dex, he is,” she retorts. “Maybe you two should talk and see if this is even viable, Jolie. I don’t want you doing something that you’re uncomfortable with.”
