14. Weland
Chapter fourteen
Weland
A fter the confrontation on the front doorstep, we stand on the inside of the front door for a long time. I’m not sure how many minutes pass before I get out my phone and do the most logical thing. I call my family and let them know about the three buttholes bearing bad news. The trifecta of buttholes. The arseholios to the power of three. They don’t like it, but at least they’ve been warned, down to a detailed description and the names of all the cousins, including Toe-Toe. You know, just in case he tries to go incognito but decides to use the name he hates the most because, why not?
“Oh no.” I sag against the door after. This is all getting so out of hand. So freaking complicated. I don’t like complicated. I thought my life had enough of that before. I can’t even imagine it now. Sterling’s brows dip down above his nose like a flock of flying geese following the lead geese, except they ate a bunch of fermented something or other and got drunk and aren’t flying in a proper formation.
“I’m scared to ask what you just thought of,” Sterling mutters.
“My friends. None of them know I’m married. We just told my parents, remember?”
“Yes, well, it makes sense. I wanted to keep the marriage a secret to keep you out of the spotlight and keep any and all attention away from us and also to keep my cousins away from you, so you didn’t tell your friends. You only told your family, and you swore them to secrecy. That’s the story we’re going with.”
My sigh could bring down the house. “And what about my students? What if your cousins go sniffing around them and their parents? Would they think I gave their names out? That’s a breach of privacy. People would be angry. Then they’d be doubly angry that I lied to them about being married to someone like you. Or at all. It just makes me look completely dishonest.” I hate that my nose is burning. I’m not going to let those three big hairy toes of cousins make me cry. I’m seriously not. I’m freaking not, and I mean it.
Beans has wandered off and is eating dog food in the kitchen. I can’t see him, but I can hear him crunching. He makes the strangest sounds when he eats, and by strange, I mean entirely adorable. It’s a mrph crunch, mrph crunch noise and then smack, smack, smack, like he’s really enjoying himself. He probably is. The poor thing. I spent a wad on that food, wanting to get something good for him. I focus on those sounds—happy sounds—to ground me instead.
“My cousins won’t mess with your students,” Sterling says.
“How do you know? What if they’re skulking around here and creeping people out? What if they make it so I don’t have any students because people can’t trust me anymore, and my neighborhood is full of buttholes?”
Sterling’s right eye twitches like he just got a fly up his nose and needs to sneeze. I understand the sentiment. I really do.
“I’ll make sure Smitty takes care of them. He’ll hire someone to keep this place secure and chase off the riffraff so they can’t scare your students or creep out their parents.”
“What if they hire someone to clear them out?”
“I’ll hire two people then. Or as many as it takes.” He raises his hand, brings it almost to my shoulder, and pauses when I make a noise in my throat. Then, he tucks it back at his side and doesn’t end up touching me, which is a tragedy. I could use a hug right now.
I’m shocked at how much I’d like a hug right now. A Sterling hug. It makes my heart jump two beats past its regular pattern, which could also be the stress. It’s probably that. My stomach has just about lost the tickly feeling it got when it came to standing next to Sterling or being alone with him. I’m not so focused on that anymore. Now I’m trying to figure out how to get the fuckedupness of this whole thing unfucked.
“Well?” I’m just giving up on trying to make it through this on my own. I have to look to Sterling for my cues now. “What do we do now?” As in, what are our next steps? We talked about a performance, but I’m not sure how to do it. I’m not good at faking anything. Then again, I’ve been selling this for years, even to my family.
“Like right now?”
“Maybe we should go find them and just sell them some kind of story they’d believe. We could rehearse it and get it straight. Tell them there’s no need to doubt us.”
“Like right now?” Sterling repeats.
“They’re probably just lingering around. I doubt they’ve gone far.”
“We’ve been standing here for so long that all the blood has disappeared from my feet. If we ran after them, my toes would probably snap off.”
“Dear god, is that actually a thing?” I want to laugh. Despite everything, I actually want to laugh. Even Sterling’s eye twitch isn’t so bad right now.
“I’m not sure. I hope not. I don’t want to have to shake the bloody stumps out of my shoes.”
“Seriously, that’s a mental picture if I’ve ever seen one, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard about a lot of really crazy things. The internet is a blessing and a curse. Blessing and a curse.” I pause. The crunching noises from the kitchen have stopped. “We could always fake a pregnancy.” At that, Sterling’s jaw drops. “I’m kidding. That was seriously just a joke. I would never do that. And speeding up the whole let’s see if we can make this a real marriage thing by actually getting pregnant for real isn’t…that’s just…I can’t do that. Not to us, not to my family, not to me, and not to the poor child.”
“No, of course not. We’ll come up with something. Just give me…give me a few minutes to think. Or a few hours.”
“Well, for one, we shouldn’t be staying in separate places. That doesn’t really make sense. You need to get rid of that hotel room.”
To his credit, he doesn’t wince even though he must not relish the prospect of sharing the couch with a farty dog. Beans is less farty now that the probiotics are kicking in, so I guess there’s that.
“Also, I think I need to keep a regular routine. Talk to Smitty about getting someone to watch the place. I like that idea. But discreetly, of course. Even if your cousins found out about the guy, it makes sense. You have lots of money. You wouldn’t go just anywhere without some kind of protection or something. And you wouldn’t leave me unprotected.”
“I could just straight up tell them that they’re not welcome to harass you or interfere in your life with their crazy ideas and that there will be security around the place.”
I blink at him. “You know, that kind of truth is probably best. Whatever small truths we can tell, we should go for it.”
A dark shadow passes behind Sterling’s eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” He looks even sorrier that those words just fell out, but there’s no taking them back.
“It was a necessity. For both of us. I got what I wanted, and I’m going to make sure you don’t lose the company. So many people depend on you. I’m going to play this game if I have to play it, just for them. Because they have lives and families that don’t deserve to be destroyed over your cousins’ petty jealousies, which I don’t even understand. If you’ve offered to buy them out and give them tons of money, I really don’t know what this is about other than the most ridiculous jealousy and them one-upping you any way they can.”
“I think even just a little bit of jealousy is often enough for people to do incredibly irrational things.”
I barely resist giving Sterling the hug he so desperately needs—that we both probably desperately need—and apologizing to him again that he had to grow up with those people. I know his aunt probably did the best for him that she could, and things could have been much worse if he didn’t have any family to go to, but still. I want to tell him that I’m sorry he didn’t have parents like my mom and dad. That he didn’t have a brother like mine. That he didn’t have those bonds and love and kindness and goodness. But I don’t say it because it’s not going to help. Right now, I need tough Weland to make an appearance. I need my game face on.
“Okay, so get rid of the hotel, spend the night here, and we’ll brainstorm?”
“I’ll get rid of it right now. I’ll send Smitty to send someone there to collect my things. I just have to make a few calls. It’s probably best if I don’t leave here. He can hold my stuff and drop it off with the security detail when they come and meet with us.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll make cookies. We can give them to your cousins as a peace offering,” I say.
“Are cookies code for turd brownies?”
I frown. “Gah! What are turd brownies?”
“Never mind. You don’t have a cat. But we can collect Bean’s biscuits and bag them up and…”
“I’m pretty sure that’s actually a federal offense,” I say with a laugh.
“I never said we’d put it on their doorstep or light them on fire.”
“You did kind of mean you wanted those biscuits baked into cookies. I’m sure fecal cookies are strictly prohibited by more than one law, not to mention the idea is completely and utterly revolting.”
“Okay, bad joke. I’m sorry.”
“I have a strong stomach. I just hoped you were kidding.”
“I was kidding,” Sterling says. “I’m not about stooping to their level. One can only wish.”
“No, one cannot wish. We are going to do so much better. We are not doing any stooping. None whatsoever. We’re going to figure this out.” I wish we had a secret handshake. One of those best friends finger dingle, palm smacking, up high and down low, spin around and touch the ground deals. We don’t, though, so all I can do is give a watery smile that is nowhere near reassuring, and all Sterling can do is take out his phone and start to make calls.
The rest…we have to figure out.
Together.
And then we have to actually put it into action.
Together.