Chapter 19 Riley
Riley
“God, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet and they’re already defrosting Mariah Carey,” Amber shakes her head with a crinkled nose as we walk through a holiday expo set up in a park downtown.
It’s Saturday and this spot is usually reserved for the farmers market but considering it’s November, it’s now Christmas land.
“I like it,” I say with a smile.
“Of course you do. You’re an event planner. You live for this shit.”
But even my friend’s snarky tone doesn’t dampen my festive feeling.
I really do love it. “It’s not Christmas day that makes me happy,” I tell her.
Although it does. Every year since I had Noah, celebrating Christmas together, him in his jammies with bright morning eyes tearing through wrapping paper and acting as though every gift is better than the last even on the years I could hardly make ends meet– it all reminds me that I got to hold him for another year. That we survived another year with CF.
“Is it the holiday drinks? Because I am pretty sure bars can add Peppermint Schnapps to anything year round,” she grumbles while poking at a glass ornament of a snowman family.
“It’s not the drinks,” I say while looking at a green and gold star ornament that reminds me of stained glass.
As I turn it in my hand, the sun catches it, sending little flecks of light everywhere.
“I don’t know. That's all of it. It’s the season.
Everyone gets giddy. Music is always playing.
People are buying wrapping paper and baking cookies and decorating.
It’s the spirit I guess, as cheesy as it sounds. ”
“It does sound cheesy. But I get that,” she says, trying on a stocking cap and taking a selfie. “I also think it’s amazing that you keep that spirit every year. I don’t know. In your situation, not everyone can be as optimistic as you are all the time. I’m proud of you for that.”
I smile, still enthralled with the ornament.
Our tree is mostly decorated in handmade ornaments, paper and popsicle stick crafts that Noah comes up with.
Not to mention coffee filter snowflakes, a tradition we share with Brianna and Bailey.
But every year I buy another ornament, something to celebrate the year.
This one has caught my eye. Something about the way it sparkles through the emerald tinted glass. Noah loves green.
“It’s both easy and hard to find good in the little things in our situation,” I tell her, taking the ornament to the counter to pay. The woman wraps it up in silver paper and pops it into a decorative little bag with ribbon handles, making it feel even more lovely.
As we walk through the booths, trinkets and hot chocolates in hand, Amber smiles over at me. “So how has Noah been?” It’s warm for hot chocolate but we drink it anyway. It wouldn’t feel like Christmas if we didn’t.
“Up and down,” I say. “One day he’s got energy and good spirits and the next morning, bam. Wiped out, trouble breathing well, soggy eyes. I feel like I am always one second away from another ER trip and another hospital bill.”
“I can only imagine,” she says sweetly. Despite Amber’s snark, she has a big heart.
There’s a reason she’s my best friend, and it’s not just because she makes the best sangria in California.
Though that doesn’t hurt. “So how’s that doctor of his?
” she asks. I knew she would go there. Honestly, I planned to go there too.
There’s a lot happening and most of it is things I won’t be able to hide for long.
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask.
Amber turns to me, her face already lit up. “Oh my god, you slept with him!” she whisper yells.
“What? No! Well…maybe. But that’s not what I’m talking about,” I answer, fully aware of the color of my cheeks. “It’s crazier than that…” I trail off.
“You bad girl. What is crazier than banging your sick kid’s hot doctor? Do tell…”
Sigh. Here we go.
“He asked me to marry him,” I mumble and Amber stops walking all together. Her jaw is on the ground like one of those Looney Toons characters.
“He…what?”
I take a deep breath and we keep walking, though she is hanging so heavily on every word that comes out of my mouth, she’s practically walking on top of me.
“He asked me to marry him,” I repeat.
“Was it a joke?” she asks.
“That’s what I thought. But…okay so Reinhart is in trouble. Apparently because they have the free clinic and offer in house insurance to patients in need, they are actually running themselves into the ground. It started with his father, Arthur Reinhart, you know?”
“Shit, I didn’t realize he was the heir to all of that. Damn girl…”
“He and his brother who is head of the financial department. Apparently they have a very strained relationship and don’t see eye to eye on how the hospital should be run. His brother wants to cut spending. And Cameron is like his late father and wants to help people at any cost.”
“God…tall, dark, handsome AND the heart of a Hallmark movie character? Jesus, Ri. I don’t know how you’ve resisted throwing your panties at him.”
I go around that question because good lord. “So apparently, a trust was left to Cameron. A rather large trust. But the thing is, they don’t have access to it unless he fulfills a…stipulation…in the will.”
“What kind of stipulation?” she asks with curiously narrowed eyes. Then her eyes pop back open. “Oh my god, he has to be married!”
I nod. “Yep.”
“And he asked you?”
“Yep.”
Amber covers the bubbly laugh that escapes her throat. “This really is some Hallmark shit. So…what’s the catch? I mean no offense but why would he just randomly ask you?”
“I guess he has no other prospects. And he knows my situation. He knows I need the money offered by the hospital to afford Noah’s new lungs and the care surrounding that.”
“So let me get this straight…you’re going to marry him so that he has access to that trust. He gets to keep the free clinic and you get the benefits of that.”
I nod.
“And then what? You’re just…married?”
“I suppose after everything has settled, we quietly get divorced and act like it never happened.”
Amber gives me a look. A look I know well. “Really? You think you can just marry a man and divorce him all in the same breath like nothing ever happened?”
“Why not?” I answer casually. But she’s still giving me the look. “What? It’s not like we’re in love. I don’t even have feelings for him.”
“Did he give you a ring?” she asks.
I hesitantly pull the box out of my purse. I feel weird wearing it all the time, in case I am with someone I know. But I keep it on me just in case I’m around people Cameron might know. Good lord. What even is my life?
Amber snatches the box and pops it open, her mouth popping open in the process. “Oh my god!”
“I know…it’s big,” I say, heat rising to my cheeks and my heart speeding up in my chest. I don’t know why. But it happens every time I look at the ring, which is another reason I can’t just walk around with it on my hand.
“Big? Girl it’s a fucking planet! My god!”
I giggle nervously, grabbing the ring and shoving it back in my pocket and Amber just gawks at me incredulously.
“Why are you hiding it? Slap that baby on!”
“Because I don’t know if I’m ready for the whole world to know that I’m…engaged. God, even saying it is super weird. We aren’t even dating, Amber.”
“But you are banging…”
My eyes widen again. “Once! I slept with him once!”
“Oh please. Surely you don’t actually believe it’s only going to be a one time thing, do you? There’s no way you can be married to someone, contractually arranged or not, and not…get frisky.”
“That’s not true,” I say with my chin high as we keep walking. “I am perfectly capable of not getting physical with him. Again.”
Even if he is killer in the sack. God…I can do this, right? Yes. I can.
“So here’s another question,” she says. “Not to pull away from the fun conversation. But what happens if Noah gets attached? I mean, he already seems to love the guy. And you’re getting married…
not quietly I assume? If he elopes that’s not going to look good to his brother or the lawyer who I assume are trying to find any hairline fracture in your marriage they can.
Aren’t you worried Noah will be sad when you call it all off? ”
I swallow hard. I hadn’t really thought about it. Before I can come up with an answer, my phone buzzes and I stop.
“Everything okay?” Amber asks.
“Yeah…it’s a message from one of the moms on the social media page.”
“The one with all the sick kids?” she asks.
I nod. “Oh my god…” I trail off as I read. “They want us to do a live stream of Noah reading his Make-A-Wish letter to Santa.”
“No way,”
“Yeah…” I say, as I reread the message. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” I ask.
“I mean why wouldn’t it be? The little guy has quite the following. Not only that but his wish is sure to come true if half a million people are looking at it.”
“Half a million?” I nearly choke.
“Sure. These things go viral.”
“I don’t know if I want our life going viral,” I say, suddenly not sure how I feel about it all.
“Think about it, Ri. More eyes means more heartstrings pulled. And the more heartstrings, the more donations.”
“And what if his wish isn’t something we can do?” I ask.
Amber shrugs with an optimistic smile. “You never know until you try.”