Chapter 5 #2
“It’ll be my appetizer,” she negotiates. “Then, I can appreciate your spaghetti more, Daddy.”
“Can you serve each plate?” I ask Violet, who perks up at being asked to help.
“Absolutely,” she smiles, taking over.
I walk over to Lucy and pick her up. “Nice try, Cookie Monster, but salad will be your appetizer.” Her face scrunches in disgust. Laughing, I set my daughter down with a kiss to her full cheek.
“Just think,” Angie says, smirking. “You’ll really appreciate Daddy’s spaghetti after eating yucky vegetables.”
“Blargh!” Lucy fake gags.
“Whoa,” Violet acts aghast. “Who thinks vegetables are yucky?” All three girls stand still, watching but not confessing.
“Clearly, you haven’t had fresh veggies from a garden you picked yourself.
They are the juiciest, most flavorful. And then, if you prepare them right, there are so many awesome ways to enjoy veggies. ”
“Canned vegetables are just fine. Lucy here just has to learn to eat them,” Silvie dismisses, entering the kitchen to grab the plates Violet’s served.
“Canned veggies can be great too. Maybe one day, we can have a kitchen experiment and play with different recipes,” she offers, her eyes flicking my way.
I see what you’re doing, Goldie.
Unapologetically, she reads my look and grins innocently, shrugging.
We settle around the large dining table I bought from Beckett Hunter last year.
The conversation goes from enthusiasm for the food, especially the pull-apart garlic butter rolls Violet brought over.
Silvie eats some of Violet’s salad as an example for her sisters.
Angie eats a plate as well. Lucy pushes hers around and tries hiding pieces in her napkin.
Her loud giggle when she got caught got smiles from even Silvie, who’s determined to be apprehensive toward our guest.
Violet helps carry the conversation, getting my girls to confess their favorite colors, movies, and books. Silvie fought interest when Violet mentioned some of her favorite young adult books that she still reads today.
Looking around the table as we finish dinner, I rub that tight spot over my heart, seeing this through different eyes.
I watch and think of another life or timeline where this is my family and this golden angel is the girls’ mom, and we’re gearing up for the holidays in this big home, and once the girls are in bed, I have a wife to hold in our own bed, to make love to, to wake up with.
The pain in my chest intensifies.
“Excuse me,” I grunt, getting up.
The girls continue their debate about SpongeBob while Violet’s eyes are watchful. I walk off to the family room and hide in the corner, far enough away that they can’t see or hear me, but I can see them.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I call Sanford.
“Talk to me,” is his greeting.
“If I were to do this, what needs to happen next?” I ask, curious.
“Well, shit,” he says, surprised. “Okay, okay, okay. So, as I tried to explain yesterday before you rudely hung up on me.”
“Drama queen,” I grumble.
“Not going through the agency works better in our favor. Then, there won’t be any proof whatsoever that you sought a wife just to win the girls back.
Using a mail-order-bride service isn’t illegal, but for the purpose of this case, Kristy’s lawyer could try twisting it as perjury.
If this woman’s willing to marry you, I say, don’t waste another second. ”
I watch from afar as Violet makes Lucy throw her head back in laughter, and Angie giggles into her hand. She cleared their plates and brought out the cookies. Silvie nibbles on one, fighting her own smile. This is what they need. Someone to instill joy, laughter, and care into their everyday.
“So, marry her. Do we plan a whole wedding then? Pretend it’s real?” I ask, a bit overwhelmed by what going along with this crazy plan would entail.
“No, no,” Sanford rushes to correct. “No time. Marry this woman this week. At the courthouse. As soon as possible.”
“Are you insane? This week?”
“Hudson. If you want your girls home, permanently by New Year's, there’s no time like the present. Put a ring on it and make it official. Yesterday.”
The dip in my stomach is one part panic and one part that worries me most of all–excitement. In a perfect world, I’d have met Violet, dated her, we could have fallen in love against all odds–namely our age difference and opposite natures–and together, create a loving home for my girls.
Instead, we’re going to have to pretend that’s all true and fake being in love. In front of the girls, this town…and Kristy. Otherwise, I risk losing the girls forever.
I step closer to the magic Violet weaves at my dining room table, and she looks up, smiling at Lucy’s wild story. Her blue eyes spark with life and joy. It’s genuine. She’s not bullshitting the girls by pretending to listen or care. She just does.
Those full peach lips smile at me now, and I know instantly that I’m fucked. Pretending won’t be the hard part. Remembering it’s all pretend once I taste those lips, pull those curves into my body for a simple hug, surround myself with her scent, that will be the true battle.
All while watching my girls fall in love with her. Angie and Lucy are halfway there already.
“I need to get a ring,” I tell Sanford, who slaps his desk and hoots.
I drown out his ramble of instructions, wondering if I just sealed my fate, and not sure if I’m dreading it or welcoming it.