Chapter 9
WOLF
The drive home from Molly’s house is surreal.
Did that just happen? Did I propose marriage to a girl I’ve met three times?
My brain keeps telling me this is wrong and way too extreme, especially for me, but for the life of me I can’t turn this truck around and go take it back.
Eyes on the road, I pull at the tuft of hair at the back of my neck as my mind replays the scenario, trying to dissect what I was feeling, what I was thinking, and what triggered my decision making.
For hardly knowing this woman, I sure knew that seeing her threatened and defeated was something I couldn’t allow.
Without knowing what was overtaking me, and before I could stop it, I was marching back into that house and essentially laying down my life.
All just not to see her scared or feeling helpless.
The situation’s seriousness is starting to dawn on me little by little, and I’m getting the feeling this isn’t a time to stew in solitude until it resolves itself or I move on. I need advice and to confide in someone, and it can’t just be anyone.
When I arrive at the main lodge in headquarters, I head straight to the informal kitchen.
Dana usually has dinner ready around this time, and I’m going to see if I can’t snag Uncle Bert away.
She’s at the sink, washing out a pot, and only Uncle Bert and Hawk still sit at the large wood table going to town on bowls of Dana’s famous goulash.
I stroll over to the table, and Dana smiles and gives my cheek a quick pat as she moves out of the room. Stopping at Uncle Bert’s side, I keep my voice low, not wanting my obnoxious twin weighing in with his two cents.
“Uncle B, can I talk to you?” I ask, leaning against my palm on the table’s edge.
“Go for it, boy,” Bert says around a mouthful of food without looking up.
I clear my throat and look at my brother uncomfortably before saying, “Alone.”
“Fuck you, Wolf. I’m not leaving in the middle of dinner.” Hawk’s voice breaks in , and I release a long exhale, trying to keep my frustrations in check.
“Don’t worry,” Bert wipes his mouth with a napkin and slides over on the bench, moving his bowl along with him, “I’ll smack him if he steps out of line.”
“Fine,” I grumble but feel slightly assured he’ll follow through. I swing around to sit down next to him. “I’ve got kind of a situation involving a woman.”
“You’re shitting me.” Hawk drops his fork with a clang and wipes his mouth with a napkin before inserting himself fully in the conversation. “I’ll bet it’s the one you threw the book at for overfishing.”
I ignore him.
“Woman?” Uncle Bert wipes a napkin over his mouth. “This outta be interesting.”
I take my uncle through the summarized version of events, including my run-in with the land developer before getting to the critical capstone.
“So anyway… I kind of…offered to marry her. You know, to help her out,” I mumble before hopping off the bench and heading to the fridge.
I avert my gaze from my uncle, not sure I want to see his reaction as I help myself to a beer I intend on downing in one go.
The barrier of the refrigerator door does not protect me, however, from my stupid twin’s outburst. “Are you out of your motherfucking mind?!” His words explode from the table, and I close the door in time to see my uncle staying true to his word.
His lanky arm reaches across the table, and his palm claps across the crown of Hawk’s head.
I twist the cap off my beer and cheers Uncle Bert. “Thank you.” I lift the bottle to my lips.
“Wolf seriously…” Hawk dares to speak again, rubbing his head. “Marriage? Have you not heard anything I’ve ever said?”
He’s trying to keep his behavior in check to avoid another slap upside the head. I ignore him as I drain the beer and set the empty bottle on the counter.
“What this dipshit is trying to ask is why would you marry some girl you barely know?”
“No, I’m asking why he’d agree to get married, period.” Hawk punctuates his sentence with a sharp nod.
“And why go to that extreme to help her?” Bert presses on.
I grab a fresh beer and head to the table. “Because that’s the extreme she needs,” I explain, like it’s simple math. “She doesn’t need money or some kind of property code adjustments. She just needs to be married. I’m single, I care about the land, I can do that for her.”
“She’s the first girl he’s ever looked at, so of course she’d be the one he’d end up marrying.” Hawk shakes his head with a scoff.
“Do you love her?” Bert ignores Hawk.
My scoff is immediate and automatic. “I barely know her.”
“This motherfucker doesn’t know what love is,” Hawk mumbles bitterly, picking his fork back up. I know he’s baiting me, but I won’t bite.
“I…” I wave a hand, ready to argue my case when no words come out.
No logical ones anyway. “She’s alone…and I, I considered the idea of her losing her home.
and I just couldn’t allow it. And I really can’t allow that piece of shit excuse for a human to take it over. You know how much I love this town.”
“Sure, it’s about the land…” He blows out a sigh and cocks an eyebrow at me— clearly he thinks I’m full of shit. “But let’s put a pin in that part and talk about how you’re offering this girl a loveless marriage. Mighty chivalrous of you.”
“Hey, in this case, I agree with Wolf,” Hawk says. This girl should thank her lucky stars he’s bailing her out at all. He doesn’t owe her anything else. If anything, she’ll owe him and maybe keep his dick wet without any fucked-up emotions getting in the way.” He chuckles to himself.
This time, Bert rolls his eyes before standing then claps a hand on Hawk’s shoulder and leads him to the back door. “All right, dickhead, that was your last strike. Out!”
We all know Hawk’s an asshole. We simply choose when and how to entertain his bullshit. With a satisfied exhale, Uncle Bert returns to the table, this time taking Hawk’s seat across from me. “So—are you telling me if Jack Collins were about to lose his ten acres on Gunn Lake, you’d marry him?”
“Oh my God, fuck off.” I push my hat off my head and thread my hand into my hair.
“Humor me. Would you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m …not gay. I’m not attracted to him, and it would be awkward as fuck.”
“Then we can establish that you’re attracted to her, but if you don’t have love in a marriage, you’re going to be miserable.” He cocks his head at me.
I meet his gaze directly, trying to level with him. “I’m not sure love is something I’m capable of.”
Bert takes a beat and then says, “So you have a unique way of processing things emotionally,” he points out one of my eccentricities; that being my inability to handle ‘big’ feelings – a category I’d definitely say love falls under.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love. And I’d like to think marrying someone means you have potential. ”
“I can’t even get myself to go on a fucking dates,” I point out, ignoring his shit talking.
“No,” he nods slowly before getting up and heading to the fridge, “apparently you skip right to proposing marriage.”
“Very funny,” I jeer as he grabs a beer of his own. “It’s not for the same reasons and you know it.”
“Yes, I know it.” Bert twists the top off his bottle before picking up my discarded one on the counter.
“And put your empties in the damn recycling, you little shit.” He tosses it in the recycling bin under the sink.
“Despite your adamant reasoning, I still have thoughts, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut while you listen to them,” he calmly declares as he sits back down.
I shake my head but wave a hand for him to proceed as I take a pull of my beer.
“Maybe you don’t think you’re capable of love or romance, but there’s no way you don’t feel anything for this girl,” he starts.
Molly’s face with her beautiful hair blowing across it in the sunlight involuntarily comes to mind at his words.
When I first showed up at her house, before the land developer drama, she had no idea I was cataloging that very sight of her.
I care about her, that’s for sure. And to feel that for someone I’ve known for such a short time—that in itself is an oddity for me.
Hell, getting to know her at all is bizarre for my track record.
“What’s in it for you?” he rephrases.
I consult my beer bottle and think about my answer. Marrying Molly would eliminate the pressure of finding someone, being social, dating etc. I’d just be tied to one person and not have to worry about everyone else… It may not sound moral, but I decide to opt for honesty.
“Some breathing room for starters,” I tell him, slightly afraid to look up and see the disappointment in his eyes.
“A chance to be away from everyone hounding the ever-loving hell out of my ass to date or get laid or be more entertaining for fuck’s sake.
” The words rush out on a heavy gust of pressurized air from my lungs.
“The pressure would be off, and I’d be tied to just one person, and …
she’s one that I don’t hate being around,” I admit, surprising myself and finally looking up at him, feeling confident in that last part.
Bert meets my gaze with a soft look in his eyes and a warm smile under his peppered mustache. “I understand.” He nods somberly.
And I believe him. He’s seen how hard my brothers have been on me for just being different from them.
Because I prefer my own company and the quietness of the woods instead of entertaining others with conversation and palling around with them.
For not being able to tolerate loud atmospheres for long before it starts to hurt.
And for not wanting to play the dating game and jump through hoops in the hope of getting laid.
Uncle Bert never said much before, just occasionally telling my brothers to lay off.
But the two simple words he just spoke and the compassionate look in his eyes give me a reassurance I never knew I was craving: someone else thinks it’s okay to live my life the way I do.
“The crazy thing is, I think going straight into marriage might pan out well for you romantically.”
“How do you figure that math?” My eyebrows rise dubiously as I start peeling at the label on my bottle.
“Because this way you can pursue authenticity without all the superficial garbage getting in the way, and you can both tailor the relationship to your unique needs,” he explains the equation in a way I surprisingly understand. “What’s her name?”
“Molly,” I supply. “Molly Butler.”
“Fuck…” the word coasts out of him on a breath it seems he didn’t mean to let out. “The Butler property.”
“Yeah, you know it?”
He nods thoughtfully at the table top. “I knew of her grandparents, and I heard a few things.” He rubs at his forehead and looks at the ceiling for a second.
“Their little granddaughter went to live with them after their daughter went to prison.” he sighs, as if the hard part is over.
“They kept to themselves a lot. I figured they just got busy with raising her.” He shrugs. “So that’s her, huh?”
“Yeah.” I nod, feeling so much more than I did even two minutes ago. And definitely more than I have for another person. Molly has somehow managed to penetrate my private orbit, and I’m shocked I don’t want her to leave it.
Maybe she is some kind of game changer.