Chapter 5 #2
“I’m older and wiser than the rest of these clowns. Plus, Mason was one of the original members. I’d told him that I’d tell our mom if he didn’t vote for me.”
“Will he verify this story?”
“Of course not.”
“I noticed that he doesn’t know why you’re called Duck.” I jolt forward against my seatbelt when he hits the brakes. “What?”
“You, me, Josh, Joanie and Michael were present when I got my nickname. Josh and Michael haven’t told anyone. Joanie’s hinted about it a couple of times, but I don’t think she remembers. Josh and Michael know better than to tell her.”
“Nobody knows? Where do people think “Duck” came from?”
“A live fire sidearms exercise that went badly.”
“Weren’t you stationed on a submarine?”
“Very badly,” Wade says.
I snort again. “Where are you taking me for breakfast?”
“We’re meeting one of my club brothers and his partner at the Halfway Café. She’s a lawyer. Maybe she can figure out what the hell happened to us.”
Lonesome doesn’t look much bigger in daylight. I am surprised at how new everything looks, though. The business signs aren’t faded into oblivion, and the places that are open show signs of life inside. “How big is this town?”
“About a thousand people including the surrounding area.” He points to a large building surrounded by an even larger parking lot. “That’s mine, the Lonesome Bar and Grill. It’s the place to go for supper and for a night out.”
“The only place?”
“Unless you want to drive to Dickerson. It’s a full restaurant, and a separate bar with live music most weekends. We do okay.”
“How’s the food?”
“Decent. Good steak,” he says, pulling to a stop in front of the Halfway Café, a coffee shop-slash-ice cream shop-slash-gift store according to what I can see through the window. “No Michelin stars.”
“I could fix that,” I tell him as I brace myself to open the door to the cold.
A sweet brunette shows us to a booth in the corner. “Coffee and menus?”
“Thanks, Janie,” Wade says.
Before she can return, another couple walks through the door.
Like Wade, the dark-haired man is in a club jacket and jeans.
The honey-haired woman, on the other hand, is dressed in wide-legged slacks and black dress boots under a bright red wool coat.
She has a city haircut and sharp eyes; I like her already.
“What’s the emergency, Duck? Why do you need a lawyer?” the man asks.
“Wylie, Kat, I’d like you to meet Melissa Prescott. My wife.”
Kat continues to unbutton her coat and unwind her scarf from her neck. Wylie freezes. “Damn, Prez, when you need a lawyer, you don’t fuck around.”
“I need coffee and a full explanation,” Kat says.
Janie stops at the table with a tray full of mugs and menus.
I’m starving and only need thirty seconds to point to a stack of blueberry pancakes.
The others are regulars and don’t even bother to open the menus before giving their orders.
Once Janie leaves, I turn to Wade. “They’re your friends.
You tell them. I’ll fill in the details. ”
“Long story short—” Wade starts.
“Absolutely not!” Kat interrupts. “If this story ends up with you married, I want—I mean, I need all the details.”
I’m glad to meet somebody else who is unaffected by the Duck Glare, but this situation is stressful enough without being ribbed by people who don’t know our backstory.
Wade doesn’t waste any time. “A quick introduction then,” he says.
“Twenty years ago, Melissa and I were in the bridal party for our friends, Josh and Joan Klein. This past weekend was their twentieth anniversary, and we were invited on a cruise where they planned to renew their vows.”
I nod in agreement.
Wade continues. “The captain invited us all to a stateroom. He did the “Do you, Josh” and “Do you, Joan” bit and they did the “I do” part. And then Joan suggested that since we were already there and dressed up that Melissa and I…”
“There was a little booze involved.”
“But not stupid amounts,” Wade clarifies.
“No, not that much.”
“Joanie said we should take the leap for the weekend. And we figured why the hell not. So, the captain did his “Do you, Wade” and “Do you, Melissa” bit again, and we did the “I do” part. And then we signed as participants and witnesses for the shipboard certificates.”
“We thought they were souvenir things. You know, good for as long as you’re on board.”
“Exactly. This wasn’t entrapment or some shit like that.”
Kat presses her lips together, then takes a sip of coffee. “Are you sure it’s legit? The certificate might just look really good. Can I see it?”
I hand her the envelope. While she flips through the pages I’ve already scoured, my pancakes arrive. All I’ve had is airport food and a drive-through hamburger in the last twenty-four hours. I’m starving.
“I don’t suppose either of you signed a pre-nup?” Kat asks.
“For a fake wedding? No.”
“Any chance either of you were already legally married before you signed this?”
“Divorced,” we say at the same time.
“You didn’t read any of the paperwork?”
“They said sign here, so we signed.” Wade rubs his beard. “We thought it was in fun.”
“Did you fill in these applications?” Kat asks in clarification.
“We think they pulled the details from our booking reservations. We stopped in Bahamas, so they had our passport information,” I say. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “Is it a real marriage license?”
“I’ll have to verify it online, but all signs point to yes. Congratulations.”
“Well, fuck me,” Wade says.
“We already did that on our honeymoon. That’s how we ended up in this mess, Duck.”
Wylie chokes on his coffee.
Duck glares at me. “Thanks, Trouble. You always know just what to say.”