Chapter 9 Olivier #2
There was no time to go upstate, meet Cassie’s friends, and start planning a wedding.
“We’ll get you a dress,” I said quickly, coming to sit next to her and looking deep into her eyes.
“And flowers. We’d have photos taken, obviously.
I’ll book a restaurant with a nice view of the city.
” I tried to make it sound romantic, when in fact I knew I had to make it look genuine.
“And we could have a big wedding later on, if that’s what you want.
It’ll be double the fun! You know, people do that in France sometimes.
They do the marriage thing first at City Hall, and then have the party with everyone.
You’d get to wear two different dresses. ”
She pondered this silently for a while. Was she just waving the possibility in front of me like a stuffed toy dangling from the top of a carousel? I felt the urge to grab her by the arms and shake her. Say something!
But she didn’t, so I went on. “If you do this for me, I’ll owe you forever.
I’ll do anything for you.” She perked up and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“And of course, as soon as my green card application is in, I can get another job. I won’t ask anything of you.
” And then at last, the words I meant the least came out: “You’re an amazing woman, Cassie.
I know it’s only been a few days, but meeting you has been the bright light I needed. ”
Finally, she put her empty coffee mug on the floor in front of the couch and leaned close to me. “So you’re coming home with me?”
I couldn’t help looking down at the cup.
I knew she wasn’t going to pick it back up or put it away.
Over the last few days, I’d felt a bit like her servant, making coffee, washing her mug after she was done, picking her stuff up off the floor, unclogging the drain after her shower.
I couldn’t imagine the state of her house.
Was I really going to live there with her?
For two whole years? No, of course not. I’d convince her to come back here to New York, where great things awaited me, especially with Cassie’s fortune. I’d just go along with it for now.
“Of course I’ll come home with you. Like I said, I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”
I sounded so pathetic. It felt like an eternity before she moved and straddled me, her face so close that her coffee breath felt like it was mine. “I would look good in a wedding dress.”
***
It all happened in a flash. Cassie chose a light-pink fluffy dress, even though I wished she’d gone with the traditional (and more legit-looking) white.
At City Hall, we picked a witness out of the assembly and exchanged I do’s with strained smiles.
Pictures pictures pictures. Evidence for the immigration officers.
Cassie never suggested sharing those on her Instagram account, and I’d assumed she was holding back for the bigger wedding I’d mentioned.
Then, the deal done, two quasistrangers husband and wife. No going back.
The minute we returned to my apartment—after an expensive lunch during which she only picked at her food—Cassie made a beeline for the bedroom.
“All right,” she said, collecting her clothes off the floor. “Let’s go.”
“Now?” My voice was high-pitched; I couldn’t keep the surprise out of it.
I was at her mercy. We had to live together. I had to do what she said.
Cassie threw her things in her weekend bag. “Did I tell you it’s my birthday next week?”
She hadn’t. In fact, I had yet to realize how little I knew about my brand-new wife.
A couple of hours later, we were making our way through Penn Station.
It was all so rushed, but soon I’d have a green card and, let’s be honest, access to two million dollars.
I’d booked an appointment with an immigration lawyer along with our slot at City Hall and had already filled out the forms that allowed me to stay here temporarily until my application was processed. It would all work out.
During the train ride, Cassie typed angrily on her phone, her nails clicking on the screen even louder than normal, while I stared out of the window. It was early May, but gray and misty. There were fields with cows roaming and farms built in dark-red wood just outside of Manhattan. Who knew?
When we arrived at our destination over two hours later, Cassie sent a few texts, grunted with obvious frustration, and asked me to get us an Uber. I was still too rattled by the sudden dash to wonder what that was about.
The ride through town did nothing to appease me. There was hardly anyone on the streets. Many of the shops were closed with faded FOR RENT posters taped to the inside of windows, one lone bar was announcing cheap lager for happy hour, and everything felt kind of muted. Bland. Half-dead.
We neared Cassie’s house, the inn. Maybe she could sell it. I’d handle the whole thing for her. I bet she’d like that.
It wasn’t a big shock after seeing the town, but the house seemed beyond tired. Some of the palings around the porch were broken, the shutters hung unevenly on each side of the windows, and a tree drooped so low that it obscured the whole left side of the house.
The front door opened as we got out of the car, and a woman about our age appeared. She stood on the porch, staring at us with narrowed eyes and pinched lips.
“This is Olivier,” Cassie said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and beaming at me. She’d never pronounced my name so well before. “He’s from France. Funny, no?”
The woman nodded, then forced a smile. “Hmm. Funny, yes.”
She was tall and looked shapeless in her baggy jeans—but not the fashionable kind New York girls wore—and sweatshirt. Her mousy-brown hair and lack of makeup reeked of country.
Cassie left me with our bags and went inside, not bothering to introduce us. She must be Cassie’s employee, if she ran the inn in her absence, though the place looked so desolate I couldn’t imagine anyone paying money to stay here.
At the top of the steps, I put the bags down and held out my hand.
“Hi!” I said. “I’m Olivier. Well, Cassie already said that.”
A bitter smile formed on her lips. “She hasn’t mentioned me.” Her tone was all snark; it wasn’t a question.
I had to make a good impression with Cassie’s circle.
They had to believe us when we announced we were married or getting married, whichever way Cassie chose to handle it.
We needed witnesses. More proof. A solid case, or as solid it could be when we got married a few days after meeting and so close to my visa expiring.
“How’s business?” I asked, to make conversation. “I bet spring is a busy season.”
She frowned.
“The inn?” I clarified. “Do you have many guests staying here at the moment?”
“The inn’s been closed a long time,” she said blandly.
Then, to my surprise, she reached down to grab Cassie’s bag. No time to recover from the fact that Cassie had lied about running an inn. Or had I misunderstood? The events of the last few days were muddied in my mind.
“I can carry that,” I said quickly.
I tried to take it from her, but her grasp was firm. Then, she headed back inside.
I followed her. “So you are?” I was after a name, something to break the ice.
She didn’t bother turning around. “I’m Cassie’s sister.”
She looked nothing like Cassie. Her face was angular, with sharp cheekbones, when Cassie’s was round.
Cassie was petite with brown eyes, and hers were dark green.
I was aware that siblings didn’t necessarily share the same eye color, but that’s not what confused me.
Cassie had said she had no family left. So where the hell did the sister come from?
“I look forward to getting to know you,” I said, a little too upbeat.
Geez, that sounded creepy.
She was in the doorframe and turned back to me, a blank expression on her face. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
I stared at her, waiting for a laugh. But there was none. It wasn’t a joke.
Well, fuck, that was weird. But that was only the start of it, because then I walked into the house, where everything was dark.