Chapter 29
brIGGS
The cab pulled to a stop in front of the townhome I grew up in. I climbed out of the back and reached in to help Mandy out. She was holding the bottle of wine she insisted we bring to dinner. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but there was no way she was meeting my mother without something in hand.
The front door was unlocked, as always. I pushed it open and was immediately hit with the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread. My stomach growled.
“Mom?” I called out.
“In the kitchen!” came her voice from the back of the house.
I led Mandy through the familiar hallway, past the living room where we’d spent countless hours as kids fighting over the remote. The formal dining room was on the left with the long table already set.
Mom was at the stove, stirring something in a large pot. She looked up when we entered, and her face broke into a huge smile.
“Briggs!” She set down her spoon and crossed the kitchen to pull me into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I kissed her cheek, then stepped back. “Mom, this is Mandy. Mandy, my mother, Mimi.”
Mom turned to Mandy. I watched as she took in my wife for the first time. She’d seen the pictures. She knew the story. But this was the first time they were meeting face to face.
“Mandy,” Mom said warmly, pulling her into a hug before Mandy could even offer a handshake. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much.”
“All good things, I hope,” Mandy said, returning the embrace.
“Mostly,” Mom teased, pulling back with a wink. “Welcome to the family.”
The words were surreal. Welcome to the family. Like it was that simple. Like Mandy belonged here already.
“What can I do to help?” Mandy asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Oh, you’re sweet, but everything’s under control. You two go relax. Everyone else is in the living room.”
We found the rest of the family exactly where Mom said they’d be. Sebastian and Bernadette were on the couch, his arm around her shoulders. Adrian was in Dad’s old armchair, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in months. Elizabeth was in the rocking chair with Bucky sleeping in her arms.
“There he is,” Dash said, looking up from his phone. “The married man.”
“Shut up,” I said, but I was smiling.
Mandy made her rounds, greeting everyone. I watched her charm my family with the same ease she’d charmed me. Elizabeth had given her Bucky to hold.
And holy shit, seeing her with a baby in her arms did something funny to me. I swallowed the lump that had formed.
“You look happy,” Dash said.
I glanced at him. “I am.”
“Good.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You deserve it.”
Mom called us all to dinner twenty minutes later. The dining room table had been extended to accommodate everyone. It was packed. I looked around at all the faces and was overcome with emotion.
Dad would have loved this. The table full, the house alive with noise and laughter. This was what he’d always wanted for us. Soon, Sebastian and Bernadette would be married and I knew they’d have children. There would be grandkids and noise and so much love.
Mandy sat beside me. Mom brought out dish after dish—roasted chicken, potatoes, vegetables, fresh bread, salad. It was enough food to feed an army.
“This looks amazing, Mimi,” Mandy said.
“Thank you, dear. I hope you’re hungry.”
We dug in, and conversation flowed easily around the table.
Sebastian was telling some story about a photoshoot gone wrong.
Dash was heckling him from across the table.
Elizabeth was trying to keep Bucky from fussing while also eating.
Adrian was watching his son with that same expression of wonder he’d been wearing since the kid was born.
That was the look of a man with his heart on the outside of his body. I envied him a little.
“So, Mandy,” Mom said during a lull in conversation. “Briggs tells me you’ve taken on Sebastian and Bernadette’s wedding.”
“I have,” Mandy confirmed. “We had a great venue visit today. It’s going to be beautiful.”
“I’m sure it will be. Bernadette showed me some of your work. You’re very talented.”
Mandy flushed slightly at the compliment. “Thank you. I love what I do.”
“That’s important,” Mom said. “Doing work that fulfills you. Your father always said that, Briggs. He believed in doing work that mattered.”
I nodded, swallowing around the sudden lump in my throat. “He did.”
“He’d be so proud of all of you,” Mom continued, her eyes sweeping around the table.
“Look at this family. Look at what you’ve built.
The company is thriving, you’re all happy—well, mostly happy—and the family is growing.
” Her eyes landed on Bucky. “I never thought I’d be a grandmother.
Your father and I used to joke that you boys would be bachelors forever. ”
“Hey,” Dash protested. “I’m still young. I have time.”
“Tell us about your charity work, Mom,” Adrian said. “Last we talked, you were doing something with the schools?”
Mom’s face lit up. “Oh, yes. We’ve been working on a lunch program for children who don’t have the means. So many kids go hungry during the school day, and it breaks my heart. We’ve managed to get funding to provide meals in three districts so far.”
“That’s amazing,” Mandy said.
“It’s a start,” Mom said modestly. “But I’m thinking bigger. I want to expand it citywide, maybe even statewide. Every child deserves to eat, regardless of their family’s financial situation.”
“That’s a huge undertaking,” I said.
“It is. But I think we can do it. I’ve been talking to some other organizations, looking at grant opportunities. It’s going to take work, but it’s worth it.”
I felt a surge of pride. This was my mother. Always thinking of others, always trying to make the world a little better.
“If you need legal help with the nonprofit structure, let me know,” I offered.
“I will, thank you.” She smiled at me. “You’re a good son, Briggs.”
Dessert was apple pie, warm from the oven with vanilla ice cream melting on top. I was so full I could barely move, but I ate it anyway because this was Mom’s pie and refusing it was not an option.
“So,” Mom said casually, too casually, as she sipped her coffee. “What are your plans with this arrangement?”
I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth.
The table went silent. Even Bucky seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere and stopped fussing.
“Mom,” I started, but she held up a hand.
“I’m not judging. You’re both adults. You made your choices. I just want to know what the plan is. Are you getting divorced? Staying married? What?”
I looked at Mandy. She looked at me. Neither of us seemed to know what to say.
“We haven’t really discussed it,” I said finally.
“Haven’t discussed it,” Mom repeated. “You’ve been living together for weeks and you haven’t discussed the future?”
“It’s complicated,” Mandy offered.
“Is it?” Mom’s eyes moved between us, and I saw the moment she understood. “Or is it not so fake anymore?”
My heart was pounding. I could feel everyone’s eyes on us, waiting for an answer.
“It’s—we’re—” I stumbled over the words, not sure what to say. Not sure what I was allowed to say.
“We’re figuring it out,” Mandy said quietly.
Thankfully, Mom dropped the subject after that.
After dinner, we slid into the back of the Uber I ordered.
“Your mom is wonderful,” Mandy said.
“She is.”
“Want to grab a drink?” she asked.
I looked down at her. “You sure you want to drink after Vegas?”
She laughed. “One drink. I think we can handle one drink without ending up married again.”
“We’re already married. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Famous last words,” she said, but she was smiling.
We found a quiet bar a few blocks from my building. Nothing fancy, just a neighborhood place with dim lighting and a bartender who looked like he’d seen everything. We slid into a booth in the back.
“Two whiskeys,” I told the server when she came by. “Neat.”
“Living dangerously,” Mandy teased.
“It’s one drink. Besides, we’ve been so gun-shy about alcohol since Vegas. Our fake marriage has made us boring already.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m still fun.”
“You fell asleep at nine-thirty last night.”
“It was a long week!” She kicked me under the table. “You fell asleep with me.”
“Fair point.”
The drinks arrived. We clinked glasses and sipped in silence for a moment. The whiskey burned going down.
“So, uh, I guess I’ll just ask, what are we doing?”
I’d been asking myself the same question for days now. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not very lawyer-like of you. Where’s the contract? The terms and conditions?”
“Fuck the contract.” The words came out kind of harsh. “I don’t want to think about this like it’s a business deal.”
She looked up at me. “Then how do you want to think about it?”
“Like we’re two people who like each other. Who enjoy spending time together.”
“Who accidentally got married in Vegas and then kept sleeping together?” she supplied.
“Yeah. That.”
She took another sip of her drink. “You know, most people date first. Get to know each other. Then maybe move in together. Eventually get engaged and married.”
“We did it backwards.”
“We really did.” She sighed and shook her head. “But here’s the thing, Briggs. I do like you. A lot. More than I probably should, given the circumstances. And I like what we have.”
“Me too.”
“But that’s a good reason to date someone, not to stay married to them.”
I leaned back against the booth, considering that. She was right, of course. By any rational measure, we should get the annulment or file for divorce. Go back to square one and do this properly. Date like normal people. See where it went without the legal entanglement.
But the thought of not being married to her made me feel very uncomfortable.
“We’re already married,” I said.
“I’m aware.”
“So why not stay married while we figure things out?”
She blinked at me. “You want to stay married?”
“I don’t see why not. We’re doing fine. The only difference between what we’re doing now and what we’d be doing if we got divorced and started dating is a piece of paper.”
“And the fact that divorce is a lot more complicated than breaking up.”
“Only if it ends badly. If we decide this isn’t working, we file the papers and move on.”
She nodded. “True.”
“I know it’s probably crazy. But I don’t want to end this yet. Do you?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t.”
Relief flooded through me. “So we stay married. Keep doing what we’re doing. See where it goes.”
“Okay. But we need to talk about logistics.” She set down her glass. “Where are we going to live? You’re in New York. I’m in LA. We can’t keep flying back and forth.”
I’d been thinking about this too. “I don’t know. It’s not a problem we need to solve tonight, right?”
“Right.” She smiled. “Why do today what we can put off until tomorrow?”
I laughed. “Terrible motto.”
“I know. I don’t care.”
We finished our drink, talked about a second, but decided my liquor cabinet at home was a better option.