8. Chapter 8
Talmage
M ack doesn’t see me. She throws her head back in a laugh, loud and boisterous, and my smile spreads across my face.
I didn’t forget how beautiful she is, but seeing her again in person after two weeks makes me appreciate it even more.
As if she can sense my presence, her head turns to me, and she excuses herself from the group, rushing towards me with open arms.
“Bear! I missed you so much. Did you have a good break?”
“Missed you, too, Firefly. Yeah. It was fun. How was yours?”
“It was good. I have a late Christmas present for you.” She grabs my hand and pulls me towards her locker, twisting the knob and pulling it open before she reaches in and grabs a familiar notebook from her backpack .
“I thought maybe we could start trading the notebook back and forth. You could draw in it, I could write in it, or we could just leave notes for each other.”
“This is perfect.”
She smiles again, wider than before.“Yeah? You don’t think it’s silly?”
“Not at all. I think it’s kind of… romantic.”
“Thank you so much, Mack. It means a lot to me.” I didn’t come here to tell her about my deconstruction journey, though, so I squeeze her hand again and clear my throat. “I mentioned earlier I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“Oh, right. What’s up?”
This next part is going to make or break whatever bond of friendship we’ve been mending. But I think it will help both of us a lot.
“I think I have a solution to your insurance problem. A way to help you so you don’t have to work so hard.”
She narrows her eyes at me, pursing her lips in a way that makes them look plump and biteable and—
Not the time, Tal.
“I’m listening…”
I take a fortifying breath, staring deeply into her mossy green eyes. “Marry me.”
Her eyes bug out of her head, and her mouth gapes open before she starts cackling. Loud, uninhibited, true laughter that grabs the attention of the older gentlemen at the bar and makes me equal parts happy and embarrassed.
Is marrying me really this funny?
She must see the mortification on my face because her laughter stops almost immediately. “You’re… you’re serious?”
I nod.
I’ve been thinking about it since she told me about her financial issues. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to help her.
I started looking into my health insurance benefits and found my dependents would be totally covered.
If Mack were married to me, since she’s already the primary guardian of the girls, they’d fall under the same umbrella, which means Harper’s pumps, insulin, doctors visits, and whatever else she needs would be covered.
Mack wouldn’t need to work two jobs in order to afford it.
“Why?” Mack asks, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
“Because I get really good health insurance benefits, and if we get married, you and your sisters would be covered.”
“Okaaaaaay. But what’s in it for you? Why would you offer such a—a commitment to me when we haven’t even talked in ten years?”
Excellent question.
The real answer is there’s been a magnetic pull to her ever since I saw her again. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since the accident—before, if I’m being honest. It’s like she kickstarted my heart again, and all of the feelings I had for her as a teenager are coming back.
My religious upbringing tickles the back of my brain, whispering God put her in my path for a reason.
Telling me it’s a sign because none of my other relationships have worked out.
She was the first girl I ever loved, and part of me is wondering if she’s the last girl I should love. The only girl I have ever truly loved.
Another part of me wonders what would have happened if we’d stayed together all through high school. If she would have waited for me while I was on my mission, and we got married after.
Would we have kids? Would we have left the church and deconstructed together? Would I have still become a firefighter? Would I be drawing comics? Teaching?
Would we be happy?
There’s no way to know for sure, but I want to know if we could have a future together now .
I can’t tell her all of that, though. It would surely scare her away.
So I tell her a portion of the truth.
“My family has been on my case about being almost thirty and single. If I get married, then maybe they’ll leave me be. Plus, then I can get out of the singles ward and maybe actually leave the church instead of feeling like I have to stay to keep the peace.”
She scrunches her nose in the way she always has when she’s confused, and a rush of affection flows through me.
“So your mom can blame me for being a bad influence again? No thanks. I’m sure your parents would rather you marry literally anyone else. ”
I grimace at that. I was hoping she’d forgotten about the things my mom said about her when we were in high school.
“It’s been thirteen years. I’m sure she’s over it.” At least, I hope she’s over it. It’d be weird if she still held a grudge with a teenage version of Mack.
Mack shakes her head. “I’m not the girl for you, Talmage.
I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can’t tie you down like this.
You should be with some perky, wholesome girl who wants to have a million babies and will have dinner waiting for you after a long shift.
Not someone who is barely scraping by, in charge of keeping two teenagers alive, and so exhausted she barely has the energy to reheat a frozen dinner. ”
But I don’t want that. I want you.
Mack continues, “Besides, you deserve to marry someone for love. Not for… pity or whatever this is. You don’t owe me, Tal, if that’s what you’re thinking. Whatever happened between us is in the past, and it should stay there.”
Ouch. Her words slice through me, flaying me open. It’s obvious she doesn’t still feel something for me, even if I was hoping she did.
“It’s not pity, and I don’t feel like I owe you, Mack. Like I said, this would be helpful for me, too. Heck, you can even help me! You can teach me how to be an ex-mo. Drink coffee, drink alcohol, swear… that kind of stuff. Getting to help you is just a bonus.”
Mack eyes me. “You’ve never said a swear word, have you?”
I shake my head. “Not even when I almost fell into an ash pit. ”
“Not even shit?”
“Not even… no.”
“I think you should take some time to think about this. If this is just some impulsive decision—”
“It isn’t,” I interrupt. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve done the research on my insurance. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to think of another way to help you, but getting married feels like the best option—for both of us.”
This sounds crazy. It is crazy. But I feel calm and at peace with this decision. It feels like the jumbled mess that is my life is finally starting to arrange itself into pieces that make sense.
Marry Mack, leave the church, learn to be happy.
“How long do you plan on us staying married? Surely you have a time frame. Stipulations? Something.”
I didn’t think that far ahead. But of course, she wouldn’t want to stay married after she no longer needs insurance.
That gives us at least ten years together, right?
Unless the twins get on their own insurance before they’re twenty-six.
After that, she’ll probably want to leave Utah and find a guy who can curse and knows things about coffee and wants to get matching tattoos.
My heart already hurts thinking about us getting a divorce, and she hasn’t even agreed to marry me. It still feels like a good idea, even if in my head I don’t want it to end.
“Until you can either get a job with better insurance or a higher paying job. Or maybe until your sisters turn twenty-six or get a job with their own insurance? We can figure it out.” It doesn’t sound like a solid answer, but I don’t have anything better at the moment .
Mack’s lips roll into her mouth before she shakes her head. “I don’t… I don’t know, Tal. This seems like a crazy idea.”
She’s considering it, though. It isn’t a “no.” Hope flutters in my chest. There’s still a chance.
“You don’t have to answer right now. I can give you time to think about it. I think it would be good for you. You wouldn’t have to keep working here and—”
“What’s wrong with working here?” she snaps back.
“N-nothing! Nothing. I only meant you wouldn’t have to work yourself to the bone just to buy Harper’s stuff. I didn’t mean it in a negative way.”
“Sorry for snapping. People can be judgy about working in a bar.”
“It’s okay, Mack.” My phone buzzes with my alarm—time to get to the station. “I’m sorry, but I have to get to work. I’ll text you to set up another time to talk. Promise you’ll think about it?”
Mack sighs and rubs her hands on her thighs. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
I stand, offering her a hand to help her up from the chair and pulling her into a hug before she can scramble away from me. Having her in my arms settles some of the nerves in my chest.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Firefly,” I say against her hair. I feel more than hear her small gasp, and I wonder if I crossed a line using the nickname I gave her as a teenager.
She steps away and clears her throat. “Bye, Tal. Have a good day—or night, I guess—at work.”
“Thanks, Mack. You, too. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay?”
She nods, and I walk out of the bar .
That didn’t go as I expected, but it’s okay. There’s still a chance she’ll say yes.
Gosh, I hope she says yes.