Chapter 14
River
I’m channeling my Sandra Bullock in While You Were Sleeping vibes as I slide into Jana’s office at Caring Souls and seal a sticky note onto her workstation computer screen as she’s charting on Monday morning.
You remember that part of the movie, right? When the older brother, the one who was in the coma—also the one she’s not in love with—proposes and she says yes and then invites her boss to the wedding with a sticky note?
Hey, if it’s good enough for Sandy Bullock, it’s good enough for me.
“You’re invited. And this baby,”
I point to the neon pink sticky note. “Is one of kind, so I expect you to save it forever and ever in a scrapbook.”
Her brows go up. “Um. This is your wedding invitation?”
“Yep.”
My lips pop on the “p.”
“Oh, and you should feel honored because not only are you our witness, but you’re the only other person invited. Besides Skye and Milo, of course.”
Jana frowns, her enviably full brows meeting over her olive eyes. “I . . . don’t know what to say. Except this is kind of pitiful.”
She peels the sticky note off her screen and flips it around to the back and to the front again. “You are cordially invited to the wedding of River and Gabriel on Tuesday, August 26th, the year of our Lord . . .”
She whips her head up and stares at me. “Year of our Lord?”
“It’s a thing people do sometimes. Be all fancy and official on wedding invites.”
I point at her. “What this lacks in aesthetics, it makes up for in flowery language.”
She shakes her head. “Are you okay?”
She looks at the “invitation”
again. “It says it’s tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be Mrs. Gabriel Tate.”
A nervous giggle escapes me.
She peers at me. “You’re acting loopy. Did you take some pills or something?”
I shush her. “Of course not! I’d never do that. You can take a blood sample.”
I rotate my arm and offer it to her. “I’m clean.”
She shakes her head and lowers my arm. “I’m not going to take a blood sample. Geez, River. You might have never taken drugs in your life, but you’re not okay. Not at all.”
I take a deep breath. She’s right. I’ve found myself feeling more and more strange as the day has progressed. I got Gabriel’s ring size from Milo, left work early, and bought a ring at the pawn shop in town. So what if it has a decidedly King Arthur vibe? There’s a sword in a stone engraved on it and the inscription inside reads “Excalibur!”
But the store owner assured me it was 18 karat gold.
Nothing about it is Gabriel’s taste. Consider it my one act of rebellion in this charade.
And now I’m delivering my one and only wedding invite to Jana while I’m picking up Skye for her transitional care. Skye, by the way, is ecstatic about this wedding. Maggie, my coworker, kindly brought me since I still don’t have my car back.
I had to do a whole thing straight out of Jack Ryan. I asked her to wait in the car while I went into the music store, walked straight through to the back, and then next door to the pawn shop to buy the ring. And then back the way I came.
I can’t believe it actually worked.
“Of course I’m not okay. I’m packing up my family home, I’ve managed to box up all my journals somewhere so I can’t even write any of this out, and I’m marrying someone I barely know. And that someone’s father totally loathes me.”
My voice descends into a whisper. “You wouldn’t be okay, either.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
I turn my neck so I can see out into the hall, where framed photos of the residents through the years hang. They’re smiling and happy. They’re as independent as they can be.
“Yes, I do.”
Jana understands I’m not going to back out now. “I know,”
she says in a resigned voice.
“You were excited for me when you dragged me to Denver to buy a dress. Why not now?”
“Hey, I’m just taking my cues from you. If you were excited, then I’d be excited for you.”
“I’d have to be delusional to be excited.”
I snap my fingers. “But you know what? Actually, I am excited. Excited that Skye will finally stop begging to come live here. And that I woke up to movers this morning, Jana. Movers! They’re pros. I don’t even know where Gabriel found them, but they come in and finish packing your stuff for you. And they’re all careful and precise and have spreadsheets about the boxes. I’m telling you, I’ll never want to move like a poor peasant again!”
“So you’re saying your handsome and lovely fiancé is spoiling you rotten?”
“I hope Markus doesn’t feel less than.”
Jana snorts. “Girl, my man has a healthy self-esteem.”
She laughs. “By the way, Skye did good today. Real good. She’s going to thrive here.”
My eyes burn with tears. “Part of me hopes so. The other part of me hopes she hates it and comes back to me.”
I give Jana a hug. “Don’t forget. Four fifteen at the county courthouse, okay?”
“How could I forget?”
“The moving company is bringing Skye’s stuff over here tomorrow morning and then it will be official. Bring your camera so we can have photographic evidence of the wedding. This motha’s happening.”
I try to brighten in a smile. I lower my voice so I’m practically only mouthing the words I’m getting married.
I take a deep breath and go down the back hall to the game room, where Skye’s playing cards with a group of women. They’re talking and laughing, and I stand just out of sight for a moment, hearing Skye’s lyrical voice talking about how she used to do grass art in our backyard. Basically, my parents let her use big buckets of biodegradable, homemade finger paints and she’d splash it all over the lawn and make cool designs. I notice she fails to mention how she got in trouble for dipping our cat, Tiger’s, paws and tail in the paint.
She has friends here. They seem nice. I peek my head around the doorway and see their faces. Skye’s back is to me but those faced my direction seem so much like Skye. The bright, bespectacled eyes, the sense of humor and warmth. She’s never had a tribe before.
There is no way of knowing if this will actually turn out okay.
She gives up a cackle, dropping her head back. The others laugh, too.
A flash of a thought brands my brain, of Skye sinking in quicksand, of her fingertips brushing mine out of reach as she sinks lower and lower until I can’t see her anymore. Until she’s long gone, swallowed whole.
Why is it that I can’t breathe?
Maybe I’m the one sinking.
Surprisingly, I slept like the dead last night. Like I was in a colorless, vacuous tomb. It’s a good thing I didn’t lie awake, tossing and turning because I need to be in a very particular frame of mind.
It’s my wedding day, y’all!
I get up and get ready for work, biting the inside of my cheek as Skye throws a royal fit when the movers take her boxes of stuff. It doesn’t click for her until Jana drives us over to Caring Souls to show her that they did indeed put the boxes in her new room there. Since, legally, she can stay there starting today, I left her there.
I bawl my eyes out as Jana takes me to work and then drives back over to Tollark to her job at Caring Souls. A good, healthy ugly cry. And Jana just lets me, handing me tissues without me needing to ask her.
Also? She says she can keep Lunchie at her place for the time being.
Have I mentioned I have the greatest best friend in the entire Universe?
And guess what? I was on one at work. I probably should have called in sick, but I just can’t add to the lies I’ve already told. If I wasn’t complaining about every little thing, I was texting Jana and calling the social workers at Caring Souls, checking up on Skye.
They say she’s fine. I’ll decide that when I see her myself this afternoon.
Every time I saw one of the Tates, a brother or one of their wives, I felt guilty thinking, Little do you know I’m almost your sister-in-law.
The plan is for us to text out a photo of us in our wedding attire, holding up the marriage certificate outside the courthouse with the caption, “We’ve eloped!”
to our families.
The entire Tate family is going to go ballistic.
Better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. Or something like that.
Gabriel assured me that, no, I can’t just go home and spend my wedding night with Jana watching movies and gorging on M&Ms. We have to be careful with appearances. So we’re going to be hiding out at his house, which is where the movers have taken my stuff—those guys really earned their keep these last couple of days. I’m only bringing the things I’m going to need for now. The rest will be in storage for the duration of this marriage.
Jana picks Skye and me up, takes us back to her place since our house is a cavernous empty hole right now, and we get our gowns on and do our hair and makeup. Skye’s too excited about the wedding to care about all the primping. I get tripped up at my reflection in the mirror. No veil. Just blonde waves with a bejeweled comb. More eyeliner than I usually do. A burgundy lipstick that I love.
Thoughts of my parents make my heart hurt as we drive to the county courthouse in Longdale, but I shove those thoughts out. This isn’t the time. I can’t cry anymore today.
Skye’s so excited about the wedding that she won’t tell me much about her first official day at Caring Souls. I just hope she’s not disappointed in the fact that the wedding is going to be like two minutes long, and about as exciting as a doctor’s well-check appointment.
I carefully remove myself from Jana’s car when we get there, making sure I don’t close any part of my dress in the door. Milo and Gabriel are in the lobby as we walk in. Gabriel’s hands are slung in his pockets, dimples extra dimply as he smiles and ducks his head. He has the audacity to look incredible in his medium-blue suit.
“You’re late,” he says.
“It’s a bride’s privilege,”
I counter.
He doesn’t seem too worried about the time. “But you look unreal—in a good
way,”
he says. Instead of shying away from his bold gaze, my posture straightens.
“Thank you,”
I say. I can’t bring myself to smile, but I hold out my hand and focus on his blue darkly-fringed eyes. He waits a moment before taking my hand, holding it up like I’m royalty.
We hurry up the stairs, which is not easy to do in this dress.
How is he so calm? How dare he be so calm!
I’m not normally like this, all solemn. I wish I could summon Gabriel’s charm on my wedding day, but it is what it is.
We reach the top of the stairs and again, he looks me over, with a spark in his eyes.
“Nice dress.”
“You paid for it,”
I shoot back.
Have some patience with me, I want to say. I’ve never gotten fake married before.
I feel a little better when Skye gives Gabriel a big hug and he tells her she looks pretty in her classic floral dress with pearl buttons down the front. We ordered it online and it came just in time.
Milo smiles widely. “This is exciting, guys!” he says.
I refrain from asking, “Is it?”
and only give a weak smile.
“River said, ‘no Lunch Lady Liz today,’”
Skye says, shooting me a look.
“Come on, River. Why couldn’t the dog join us on our big day?”
Gabriel winks.
I give him side-eye. “She’s safely in her kennel at Jana’s house.”
I perk up when the woman from the front desk brings us the paperwork.
Did you know that in the state of Colorado, an officiant isn’t required for a legally binding wedding? Yep. Two people can just simply sign on a dotted line and it’s a done deal.
Still, Milo and Jana insisted we say vows. Milo really wanted to marry us, and he was supposed to say something short and generic, but he goes over the top. He quotes Robert Browning and Pablo Neruda.
Pablo Neruda!
This isn’t that kind of wedding.
Still, I don’t know if it’s because my parents are gone or if I fear this could very well be my one and only wedding, but my throat grows thick at Milo’s words about loving for love’s sake and loving someone without knowing how or where it’s coming from. I have to drop my gaze to the small bouquet Jana picked out and focus on the gentle curves of the roses and ranunculus.
Then, Gabriel slides a ring on my finger, and I’d be darned if the thing isn’t real—a classic solitaire with a large diamond. Now I’m feeling bad about the wonky Excalibur ring I got him. It doesn’t help that he frowns a little when I put it on his finger. He’s probably wondering what in the world is on it. The sword sort of does look like a light saber.
Now that would have been cool—a Star Wars themed ring.
Done. If I ever get fake-married again, that’s what I’ll get my fake husband. And I’ll wear my hair in Princess Leia buns over my ears. It’ll be a whole thing.
I’m startled out of my daydream because Milo says it’s time to kiss, and I consider just sticking out my hand for a nice hearty shake. But we have to sell this. If word gets out—who knows who’s lurking in the shadows or behind some dusty filing cabinet—that we shook hands when we got married, what would Thomas Tate think?
And theoretically, I’m not opposed to kissing Gabriel. But my mind is topsy turvy. I’m low-key resentful, and I miss my parents. And in a year, this thing is donezo. No use getting all emotionally involved.
It’s with this Brillo pad shield around my heart that I look at Gabriel, my eyes wide. I knew it was going to come to this, but with so much going on with the move and a fake wedding to plan, he and I hadn’t had a chance to talk about it.
Scratch that, we could have, we just didn’t. And now I’m really wishing we’d figured out a plan, sort of a “we’ll both lean to our respective rights”
sort of deal.
His gaze is on my lips and I’m suddenly glad I used my lip scrub this morning. Then, he looks at me and his eyes seem to ask, Is this okay?
Fine time for his baby blues to be asking that! I do appreciate the sentiment but there’s been kind of a long pause, and I panic, answering his question by grasping the back of his neck and pressing my mouth to his.
At first, it’s just . . . there. Two warm mouths pressed together.
It only takes a couple of seconds for his surprise to steady into his lips taking over. Now he’s all in. His lips move over mine and I can’t help but join in the rhythm, my heart thudding.
A zing travels from my mouth throughout my middle and to my extremities—a slow sort of shock of lightning all the way through.
I don’t realize until Gabriel starts to pull away that I’ve moved my hands to grasp his suit coat with both fists. In a jerky motion, I let go, stepping back.
Out of my peripheral vision, the Deputy Clerk is gawking at us. It dawns on me that we can’t be acting like that was our first kiss. I smile sweetly, placing my hands on his lapel and going in for one more quick smooch.
Milo pronounces us man and wife and Gabriel and I look at each other. His clear blue eyes are wide, his mouth is twisted down in a frown. He looks all discombobulated like, Did that just happen?
Yes. Yes, it did.
And now I have to go have a wedding night—at arm’s length—with a man I barely know and who will, in twelve short (or very long?) months, be my ex.