25. Ned #2
“Happy to help, and I apologize about the timing, but Ned, I’ve only got a tenure-track position for you if I can get you hired before everyone from Adams starts calling in favors.
I have a pile of emails asking about jobs for the coming year.
Monday morning, I’ll have to answer everyone as to whether I have an open position or not. ”
Oh, it’ll be an awkward last couple months at Adams, that’s for sure. Thank you, Ned thinks at Beverly and Chris, and hell, at Charles too. The universe in general, and mostly this guy next to him. Ned takes Abbot’s hand and squeezes.
“Whatever you need,” Ned says. “We’re happy to have this opportunity.”
“Great. So, when you send in your offer letters, I just need a couple more documents along with it.” There’s a pause, and Ned pictures her clicking through her computer.
“It looks like we can take proof of living together that’s backdated.
They’ll of course also take a marriage certificate, or—Henry, you’re not a legal guardian or parent of Ned’s daughter? ”
What? Ned stares down at the phone.
“No,” Ned says and it feels like it comes a beat too late. “No, he’s not.”
“Too bad, since a parenting agreement would work as well. But I can take any of those other documents,” Beverly says.
“Or you can file for a domestic partnership in Massachusetts, but that’s a lot of the same requirements.
I’m just trying to make it easy for you, and this way you don’t have to go through the city hall. ”
“Right,” Ned says. “Wait, just to clarify, this is for HR?”
“Yes, exactly, just to dot the i’s and cross the t’s on their end. Any movement on a house? That’s a bit of a longer timeline, but that would work nicely.”
“No, the house we looked at was great,” Ned say. It wasn’t, but now’s not the time. “But that’s the first one we saw? And I thought you said you didn’t need anything specific from us?”
“Apparently the university handles spousal hires with the same onus as couples filing for joint benefits,” Beverly says. “Which makes sense.”
“Yes,” Ned agrees. Does it? Because none of this feels sensible. “Absolutely.”
“So as long as I can submit anything along these lines, together with your signed offer letters, we’re good to have you formally hired. Congratulations, really.”
“That’s great,” Ned says. “So great. But just for curiosity’s sake, since like you said Henry’s been living up in Portland, if we don’t have this type of paperwork?”
“Well, I know you’re aiming for tenure track, Ned,” Beverly says. “But as you know, a lot of professors are looking to stay in Boston, with not enough positions. I get you in now, we’re good. This process stretches out and the goodwill I can call in really starts to shrink.”
“Of course,” Ned manages.
“Maybe if I’d been here longer, but already, bringing you and Henry on…well.”
“No, no, we understand,” Ned says quickly. It’s a stretch already. A favor. A huge one. “We can get you what you need.” How, he has no clue, but they’ll figure it out.
“If not, I think I could still get you a non-tenured position. A lecturer, or even a postdoc.”
“No, if I can get tenure track that’s—I’ll do that. We will.”
“I know it’s Friday, but if you can get me anything by EOD, or first thing Monday, like I said we can move this forward,” Beverly says.
Ned swallows a jolt of nausea. Yes, forward. A job—a great job—for the exchange of their signed letters and this one little detail of paperwork.
Abbot’s sitting completely still, his face blank, so Ned knows he has to be the one to keep talking.
He leans toward the phone and says with as warm a tone as he can muster, “Great, thank you so much. We’ll sit down and get something to you, like you said either hopefully by today or definitely by Monday. ”
“Wonderful. I can email you this list of documents HR will accept. And listen, we’re looking forward to having you both.”
“Couldn’t be better for us, too.”
Ned carefully doesn’t look at Abbot when the call ends.
Okay. They can deal with this. They have two jobs waiting for them. This is all amazing. Perfect, even.
“Um,” he gets as far as saying and then stops, because he has no fucking clue what possibly comes next.
Abbot slowly opens his phone and pulls up his email.
Ned could look at the list too, but his stomach turns.
“Shared basic living expenses,” Abbot reads.
“Right,” Ned agrees. They absolutely do not share that. Or a kid or a place where they live or a marriage. They’re together. Isn’t that good enough?
No, apparently.
“We can open a bank account,” Abbot says. “And put in a few thousand dollars, enough to make it look like we pay our bills out of it. Or actually pay some bills, I suppose, and send over a statement.”
A few thousand. Right. “What else could we do?” Ned asks quickly.
Abbot glances at him. “We don’t have to touch the money and can take it back out.”
No, Abbot doesn’t need to touch his part of the money.
Ned can’t put that much cash in an account and let it sit there until everything is nicely sorted out.
He needs that money. And—a couple thousand is a lot.
He gets paid at the end of next week. He spent plenty of his last paycheck on bills, and he still has to pay Jen this month’s child support, so he’s not even certain he has that sitting in his checking account right now.
No, he knows: He sure as shit doesn’t.
He really doesn’t want to have to say that out loud to Abbot.
“It’d have to be backdated,” Ned says. “Beneficiaries of a life insurance policy? Though mine’s set up to go to Peggy.”
“We could take out new ones,” Abbot says.
Ned shakes his head. If they’re going to put thousands into an account, buying a new policy sounds even worse.
“Medical power of attorney,” Abbot says as he scrolls farther. “Ah, only when combined with another criteria.”
“We’d need a lawyer, right?” Ned asks. “To draw that up? That’s not quick to get.”
“No, though not much is by today or even by Monday,” Abbot says.
Ned feels another answer burning at him. The way forward that will fix everything.
His breath catches. He’s not doing this. He’s not suggesting it. Is he? “Massachusetts has a waiting period,” he says. His mouth is dry. “For a marriage license.”
“Maine doesn’t,” Abbot says softly.
Ned sits back in his chair. The house is so quiet.
A car drives by outside. The coffee pot beeps to announce it’s shutting off.
Ned would like to shut off too. Let the world know he’s done what he can this morning and he’s out of commission for the rest of the day. Last night was a doozy, and now this morning is too. Thank you, but the remainder of Friday is cancelled. Please don’t try to get in touch.
“I understand you don’t even feel ready to be engaged,” Abbot says.
His tone of resignation floods Ned. Abbot doesn’t think Ned would want him. Because Abbot was scared to see his mom? Because he was a little kid, then a terrified college student?
He’s the best person Ned knows. Of course he wants him, now and tomorrow and forever.
But—marriage?
No. They can’t. Ned can’t in good conscience let this happen. He’s debt-ridden and trying to stay atop a pile of bills. Marriage is all sorts of legal layers of shit. Ned should know. It was expensive as hell to unwrap them when he and Jen fell apart.
“I understand,” Abbot says.
Oh fuck no. “We could drive up to Portland.” Ned’s voice sounds too loud. “Today.”
He’s not suggesting this. Except he is, apparently. He needs Newbury. Hell, he needs Abbot to be alright, and that’s more important than anything. “If you want to?”
What kind of question is this? But he’s going for it now. Going for Abbot. This perfect, precious man. “I could pick up Peggy from school, and I mean, Liesl’s already in town, right? Though I’d have to bring my parents too. They wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Are you serious?”
“I think I am.” The answer surprises him. Marry Abbot, who wouldn’t talk to him because of what Ned might think, who was so very scared of Ned’s reaction.
Though what the hell is Ned going to do? Marry this man and then what? Not file the certificate, maybe. Talk Abbot into an annulment.
Yeah. Great. And have two failed marriages.
Oh, this is a fucking mess.
But Abbot needs him now, and paperwork can wait. It’s a couple of signatures for the state and for the university. That’s nothing to who he and Abbot are together. Not even close.
“I’m going to marry the hell out of you,” Ned says.
“Ned.”
“I am. I’m going to tell my dad to leave work, and I’ll go get Peggy from school, and I’m calling Beverly back, too.”
“What? No.”
“You’re in charge of Liesl.” Ned is gaining momentum now, the conversation tipping forward. “I’ll take care of Beverly.”
“Ned, last night—are you okay with this?”
“If it’s a promise between us that we’re good together, then yes,” Ned says. “Are you?”
“Yes, Ned, of course I want this. Want you.”
“Good.” Ned nods and it feels right, so he does it again. “Me too.”
The financial side of it—
No, he’ll figure it out. They’ll keep their finances separate like they do now. A marriage certificate doesn’t have to change that.
He’s riding high on hope, he knows. On the delight that Abbot finally opened up, however reluctantly.
Ned pulls in a long breath. As he lets it out, he smiles. “Well, then. Marry me?”