Page 5 of First Comes Marriage
“Fine, set it up,” I say before I can change my mind.
Please, God, don’t let this be a mistake, my mind whispers.
Chapter Three
Dex
“Thank you for meeting me,” she says, her cheeks having a slight pink tinge to them, as I return to the table with our tray. I set her plate and drink down in front of her then put mine in front of where I’m sitting, placing the empty tray on the floor to return later.
“No problem. None at all. Mindy told Brock you had some questions?” I reply, grabbing my prepackaged condiments and placing them next to my plate so I can add them to my burger and dress it to my liking.
“Maybe? Possibly some concerns, too,” she admits as she adds ketchup to the side of her plate for her fries.
We agreed to meet at the local diner, and normally, the waitress would’ve brought our food out to our table for us, but they had two waitresses call out, so they are short staffed, and it was easier to get it myself. I know the owner is running herself ragged, especially since she’s usually either in the office or kitchen, not on the main floor. Still, the food is plentiful andgood, so I settle into my seat and take the ketchup she proffers and add some to my own plate.
“Well, hit me with them,” I state, blanching when the ketchup bottle makes that sound when it hits the end of the line. “I mean, I know you’ve met both of my grandmothers when they’ve been at the school for something having to do with my siblings. Plus, you’ve substituted for each of the kids’ teachers, so you know them personally as well.”
She takes a swallow of her drink, a small smile playing on her lips at my mention of Abuela and Nonna. The two of them are forces of nature on their own, but when they’re together, it’s almost like watching aGolden Girlsepisode on steroids. They don’t mean to be funny and outlandish, but their beliefs and actions say otherwise. Both of them are steadfast in their respective cultures. Still, I know my folks were never worried about Arya, Anni, or Thad when the two women were overseeing things for them.
“That’s one of my concerns,” she says, contemplating her words as she buries the end of her fry into the ketchup and drags it through the tomato sauce.
“How so?” I know from talking to both women about the solution that Brock presented that they’re all for it so that the kids aren’t separated. Each of them would do anything to keep the kids in our home and not be raised by virtual strangers.
“Well, I know their heritages and cultures are different from mine,” she slowly replies. “I don’t want to do anything that would unintentionally offend them.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my mouth at her words. “Jolie, not gonna lie, I’m relatively positive that both of them will be on their best behavior.”
“Okay, then I need to let you know that I have limited Spanish speaking abilities, but absolutely no Italian at all. Arya told me once in class that Nonna Josephine rarely speaks English. What if she’s trying to tell me something important and I don’t understand?”
“Well, first of all, the three kids are fluent in all three languages, and I don’t foresee a time when you’d be by yourself,” I reply, trying to sooth her concerns.
“During school hours?” she asks, raising her brow at me.
“I presume you’ll be working during the daytime, correct?” She nods so I continue. “Therearedifferences, but if you let Nonna know you’re trying to learn, she’ll go easy on you.”
She giggles while shaking her head. “Do you even know your nonna at all?” she finally asks once she’s got herself under control again. “She waves her wooden spoon around while she talks, Dex! I’ll need to practice my ducking and weaving techniques.”
“She’s got a good heart, I promise,” I reply, chuckling at her last comment. “What else?”
“Where will I live? I’ve been renovating my grampy’s old farmhouse and thinking about selling it, so I’ve been staying there so I could work on it during my off hours.”
“In order for us to make it believable to the social worker, you’re going to need to move into our house,” I inform her. Her face once again goes pink, and she murmurs something unintelligiblewhich I don’t catch. However, her expression has me smirking. “If it helps any, I have several back-to-back contracts, so I’ll seldom be home.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “I don’t want the kids to go into the foster care program. There aren’t many foster families who are willing to take in a sibling group, and they’d end up being separated most likely. That’s not a feasible option. They’ve already lost their parents and taking them from their home would be traumatic enough, but they’re each other’s security blanket. If that’s removed from them, they’ll likely close down and become a shell of themselves. Plus, they’re still grieving, and I know what that’s like to deal with that in foster care.”
“You were in foster care, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, after Grampy died,” she confesses, her eyes becoming blank. I have a feeling it’s her coping mechanism. “I wasn’t considered to be adoptable because of my age, so I wound up in a group home.” She shudders as the unpleasant memories apparently assail her. “It wasn’t good. Thank goodness I had Mindy.”
“How so?” I question, interested in getting to know her.
This may just be a marriage of convenience, but we need to go in this as friends if nothing else, and now that I’ve embraced the thought, I want to know all I can about her, especially since we’ll be in this for a few years, at least until I either choose to retire so I’m home all the time, or Arya turns eighteen.
“The house parents didn’t know how to handle a teenage girl who had lost her last remaining blood relative for starters. Plus, they wouldn’t step in when some of the older kids teased and bullied me before they rallied together and stole my stuff.”
“Like what?” I ask, incensed on her behalf. I ignore the teased and bullying comment… for now, wanting to ask about the lighter topic so she doesn’t get sad or shut down on me and end our conversation.
“Money I made babysitting, clothes I bought with my own money from the stipend I was given,” she quickly rattles off. “Mindy started keeping my important things at her house when I told her that the house parents wouldn’t help me get it back and made excuses for the girls who were invading my privacy and taking my things as if they had a right to them.”
