Chapter 40
PETAL
I shoo the last customer out of the store, explaining we closed a half hour ago, lock the front door, and shut down the lights.
Lucy and Gilly are already here, sitting in our little reading nook way in the back, flipping through books from our sales table.
“This one looks really good. I think I’m going to buy it,” Gilly says.
I take it from her and put it in my ‘to buy’ pile so I can get her a discount. “That’s awesome, Gill. But look. I am having a crisis. That’s why you guys are here.”
They set aside their books and look at me, nodding dutifully with wide eyes. I’m not usually so snippy, so they’re well-aware by now this is serious shit.
“Guys, you know how my marriage to Rake has been in the news?”
They look at each other. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. But you’ve been so… busy,” Lucy says. “I figured you were just having a good time with your new hubs. You know, lots of honeymoon sex or whatever they call it. You guys just boning day and night?”
Gilly moves to the edge of her seat. “Yeah, are you? Does he have a big—”
Lucy cuts her off. “Or… is what they’re saying in the news true? That it’s all fake?”
“First of all,” I say, “we’re not here to talk about my sex life with Rake, although, to feed your curiosity a tiny bit, I can tell you it’s pretty fucking awesome.”
At least, it was.
Gilly’s eyes glow and Lucy licks her lips as they nudge each other. These girls love nothing more than some good scoop about a zesty session.
“But look, first, I want to apologize,” I say. “I let you think my marriage was real. We did get married in Vegas on a dare, when we were on that date I won at my mom’s fundraiser. It was all a joke and Rake was going to take care of undoing it when we got home—”
Lucy frowns. “What do you mean undo? You don’t just undo a marriage.”
Oh for chrissakes.
“Can I tell my fucking story?” I snap, drumming my fingers on the arm of my chair.
Indignation washes over Lucy’s face. “Day-um. We venture out of the city, come all the way up here, and you’re being bitchy? I blew off babysitting my sister’s kids for you.”
Gilly looks at her. “You hate babysitting your sister’s kids.”
I hold my hands up. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. Well, I guess I do. I just have to get this story out, so you can help me figure out what to do. Anyway, you’re right about ‘undoing’ a marriage. That’s not really a thing. If you want to get technical, it would be divorce or annulment.”
My voice shakes when I say those words out loud. I take a deep breath to get my shit under control.
“So we get home from Vegas, married, with me wearing a plastic, yellow smiley face ring. The Aftershocks’ team PR guy finds out and talks us into going along with the marriage like it was real or something.
They said it would be good for Rake’s image, you know, good publicity and stuff and it could help me too. ”
Gilly shakes her head. “How?”
“You know what a big deal it was when my wedding to Andy imploded? This could make all that go away. Get people to stop talking. Stuff like that.”
Lucy looks at me sideways. She doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
I pause before continuing. It’s a lot to take in.
“Wait, wait, wait, let me understand. So you got fake-married, then pretended it was real, but people found out it really was fake. And you’re upset, why? This is the weirdest fucking story, Petal. I’m sorry,” Lucy says, shaking her head.
“Yeah. I’m kind of lost myself,” Gilly adds.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I mislead you, my mother, everybody. I was an idiot.”
“So… you’re getting divorced, right?” Lucy asks. “Or ‘undoing’ things, as you put it.”
“Not exactly, at least not yet. Here’s the rest of the story. Rake and I have become… close—”
“Close?” Lucy interrupts. “Close is what you are with your sibling. Close is what you are with your coworkers. Close does not describe a relationship with a dude.”
That familiar lump in my throat returns, and I have a feeling I won’t be able to just swallow it away this time. “Fine. You’re right. I like him. A lot. And he likes me. At least I thought he did, until today.”
Gilly’s hand flies to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, he’s not another cheater, is he?” she gasps.
“No. But get this. I go out for coffee today and one of the reporters out front lobs a bomb of a question at me about Rake being traded to another team.”
“Traded?” Lucy asks.
Gilly looks between the two of us. “What? What does that mean?”
Lucy rolls her eyes. “It means he would go to another team. Like move away.” She looks at me. “Right, Petal?”
“Yeah, exactly. Apparently, this has been under discussion, and Rake never mentioned it to me. I had to find out from a reporter.
Lucy crinkles her face. “No fucking way.”
I nod, and suddenly it’s impossible to hold the tears in any longer.
“Oh honey,” Gilly says, taking my hand. “Maybe it’s just some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe the reporter got it wrong.”
“I don’t know,” I say, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt.
“The reporter seemed pretty sure, and he really dug in when he found out I was just pretending to know, like one of those mean gotcha moments. It was humiliating but the worst of it is that Rake’s thinking about moving away, and didn’t even bother to tell me. ”
Lucy reaches into her tote bag and pulls out three cartons of Ben & Jerry’s and three plastic spoons. “I thought we might need this. It’s a little melty by now, but I know how you love soupy ice cream.”
She holds all three cartons in front of me, and I grab my favorite, Chunky Monkey, because the person with the biggest problem always gets first pick. Gilly chooses hers, Lucy takes what’s left, and we dig in.
“This is so not what I need right now, to be binging on ice cream,” I say, shoveling the creamy deliciousness into my mouth.
Lucy holds her palm to my face. “Oh no. This is exactly what you need when there’s a crisis. It’s in all the medical journals. I’ve read it. Truly.”
“Who gives a fuck, anyway,” I moan. “This is really, really good. I might feel better already.”
“Just don’t cut bangs like you did that time you wrecked your mother’s car,” Gilly says.
Lucy nods. “There should be a rule somewhere that during a time of crisis, all women will keep scissors far away from their hair until the worst of it has passed. Nothing good comes of a haircut when you’re down. Never has, never will.”
Oh my God. How did I get so lucky to have these women as friends?
Even if they won’t let me cut bangs?