Chapter Thirteen

Samuel aka ‘Sam’

She thought I wasn’t good husband material?  Fuck that.  Just because I constantly kept myself in check around Leandra didn’t mean I was a cold dead fish.  My boss didn’t really want me to let my guard down.  She couldn’t handle me.

That’s another lie…and what I’m most afraid of.  Deep down, I knew it would be explosive if I ever took her to bed.  Which is the exact reason that will never happen.  I’m not a one and done kind of person.  But she is.  So we’ll stick to the status quo with me keeping my hands to myself.  Unless…

Unless I decided to show her what she’s missing.  Prove that I would make some lucky lady an excellent husband, fake or real, it doesn’t matter.

Following my ‘wife’ up to the house, I put a hand on the small of her back right before opening the front door.  Leandra’s head immediately snapped in my direction, taking notice of the touch.  At that very same instant, a booming crack of thunder echoed throughout the entire house shaking the foundation.

If that wasn’t an ominous omen, I didn’t know what was.

Rain began to pour from the heavens, coming down in buckets and leaving us pretty much stranded inside unless we wanted to make a run for the truck.  I wasn’t going anywhere.

Deciding to skip the bullshit, I got right down to business and confronted the angry family members waiting for me in the living room.

“Am I welcome to stay here or are we forced to find a hotel?” I asked my mother, knowing full well she’d never turn us away.

“Of course you’ll sleep here for as long as you’re in town,” she insisted firmly, as though daring my father to argue with her.  “Supper will be ready in about five minutes.  Chrissie, please set the table and add an extra chair for our guest.”

“How many days are you staying?” my father asked gruffly, implying that any answer I gave would be too long for his liking.  I’m sure all the warm and fuzzies floating back and forth between us were making a wonderful first impression on my boss.  Why did I come back here?

“For as long as they want,” my mother replied, effectively ending the conversation.  “Leandra, I hope you’re not opposed to homemade tuna noodle casserole with fresh baked farm bread.  That’s what’s we’re eating tonight.”

Fuck.

She couldn’t have made a nice meatloaf or something? 

I glanced at the pampered princess out of the corner of my eye and waited for the inevitable freak out.  The woman routinely ate at the most expensive restaurants in town and chugged five hundred dollar bottles of wine like they grew on trees.  Leandra was something of a food connoisseur and my mom wants to shove a fucking tuna noodle casserole at her?  Kill me now.  Please.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever had that before, Mrs. Kent,” the fiery brunette replied with a smile, not showing one ounce of displeasure.  I couldn’t help but notice the way she emphasized ‘Kent,’ eager to put her new information to use.  “I’d love to try it.”

“Let’s head to the kitchen and I’ll grab you something to drink,” I suggested, wrapping my arm around Leandra’s waist and leading her in the right direction.  As we made our way through the very modest farmhouse, past the living room and towards the kitchen, I couldn’t help but wonder the thoughts running through her head.  A penthouse apartment with all the latest gadgets and high end décor made this place look like a dump.  Leandra was accustomed to granite countertops, state of the art stainless steel appliances, leather furniture, and priceless artwork.  My childhood home had family portraits, ratty chairs covered in mismatched afghans, and carpet that should have been replaced years ago.  Don’t even get me started on the wallpaper or outdated kitchen cabinets that were in dire need of replacement.

“You should realize that the meal you’re about to eat is full of tuna and peas,” I warned her in a whisper so low that no one else could hear.  “You hate tuna.  I can find you something else.”

“I’m not a diva,” she hissed back angrily, although I noticed there was no attempt made to remove my hand that clung protectively to her side.

It was a tight squeeze in the kitchen with my mom, sister, and boss.  Managing to wedge myself in the middle and open the fridge door, I was met with more disappointment. 

“Our beverage choices appear to be orange soda, root beer, or milk,” I offered sheepishly.

“I’m fine with water, please.”

Chrissie grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water.  She handed it to Leandra with a smile.

Fuck.

“Uh…so…you don’t have anything such as bottled water here?” the shocked woman asked while barely concealing her dismay.

“No!” Chrissie insisted.  “Plastic just sits in landfills and destroys the planet.”

“Okay…” Leandra took the glass and stared at it helplessly.  “Thanks.”

I got myself a matching glass, filled it from the faucet, and escorted my guest back to the dining area adjacent to the living room.  The food was soon served, Leandra loved the casserole, and we all got along like one big happy family.

Or not.  Not even the slightest little bit.  Not even a tiny eighth of a fraction.

This was going to go down as the worst dinner of my entire life.  Not for the food, even though Leandra pushed it around her plate trying to pick out the noodles and avoid the rest, but rather for the uncomfortable silence as five people sat around the table barely making eye contact let alone conversation.

That was fine by me.  I was in no mood to talk anyway.  I actually hoped this meal would last for hours.  Anything to keep me from having to go upstairs and sleep in the same bed as my ‘wife.’ 

Did I think things through before I just randomly announced the fact that we were married?  Fuck no.  Did I have any other course of action?  Absolutely not.  Was I going to regret this?  Hell yes.

“How are you getting all this money you keep sending home?” my dad blurted, getting straight to the heart of what I’m sure has bothered him ever since I began to pay the mounting bills.

Chrissie choked on her milk and my mother dropped the bite of bread she’d been holding.  Leandra didn’t even so much as flinch.

“Artwork.  I sold a few pieces at a gallery and that’s where the money came from,” I lied.  The deceptions flowed far easier than I thought they would.  I didn’t want to resort to this, but I certainly couldn’t tell my church-going, God-fearing parents that I was involved with organized crime.  My burden didn’t have to be theirs as well.

“Is that where you two met?” my mom asked, politely trying to insert Leandra into the conversation. 

“Are you kidding me, mom?”  Chrissie sputtered in confusion.  “Sam can’t draw a stick figure without needing to erase half of it and start over, yet you think he’s making thousands of dollars a month selling artwork?  Doesn’t that seem far-fetched to anyone?

My boss broke into a wide grin and stared at Chrissie with nothing but pride.  I’m sure she appreciated my sister’s candor, however I was more concerned with the fact that everyone was aware of the amount of money being used to knock down the family’s debt.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted, brushing off Chrissie’s remarks.  “Let’s move on to something else.”

“No, we will not,” my father argued vehemently.  “I’ll be damned if I’m taking dirty money from you.”

“I think we can talk about private matters at a more suitable time, Douglas.  Let’s get to know our new daughter-in-law, shall we?”  Mom shot my dad a look that would have put a lesser man in his place.  “Are you an artist, Leandra?”

“Nope.  I’m actually an entrepreneur.  I manage several different businesses.”

“Ah…the truth comes out.  It’s all making sense now,” dad muttered in disgust.  “You’re leeching off this lady, aren’t you?  You saw she had money and took the opportunity to get some of it, is that the story?  I knew there was an explanation for such a quickie wedding.  There’s no other reason to get hitched so fast.  I’m ashamed of you, Samuel.  We taught you better than that.  You marry for love and not money.  You support yourself, not bring shame by sponging off some rich socialite.”

Leandra slammed her fork down on the table and instantly spoke up on my behalf.

“You listen here, Douglas.  I have no idea what kind of messed up family situation I walked into today, but I can assure you that Samuel earned every last penny that he sends home.  The man sitting next to me works harder than almost anyone I’ve ever met.  I would never marry some gigolo that put himself up for sale to the highest bidder.  To insinuate anything else is utterly blasphemous.  I will not sit idly by and have you disparage him.  It’s also completely ignorant to assume I’m a rich socialite that hasn’t worked a day in her life.  I have a few dry cleaning businesses, and they’re currently losing money due to some shady employees stealing from me.  So maybe you need to get to know someone before you go off half-cocked making assumptions that just aren’t true.”

Holy shit.

Never in my life has anyone defended me with such passion and sincerity.  I’m speechless.

More importantly, so was my father.  He simply stared at Leandra in shock that anyone would dare talk back in such a manner.  Fortunately my mom sought to smooth things over.

“I would like to offer an apology on behalf of my husband.  We were heart-broken when Sam left without so much as a goodbye, worried sick to have not heard from him in several months, and quite shocked when he returned with a wife in tow.  We’re just looking for answers, dear.  That’s all.”

“I understand.  Maybe it would be better to ask the right questions instead of throwing out unfounded accusations.  Samuel and I are a good team,” Leandra explained.  “When I met him, I knew he was someone special.  I always trust my intuition.  Obviously there are things here that he needed to deal with, more important uses for money than a frivolous wedding, so I supported his decision to forgo a lavish reception.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m not trying to be impolite but it’s been a long day and I’d like to head off to bed early.”

Surprisingly, my shy little sister immediately stood up and offered to give Leandra a tour of the house.

“I can show you the way to Sam’s room,” Chrissie announced.  “There should be fresh sheets in the closet, so I can help make the bed.”

The two women took off for the upstairs bedrooms and I instantly followed after them.  There was no way in hell I wanted anything to do with my father after the way he’d embarrassed me like that.  If I brought a real wife home to this disaster, I would have walked out and never came back. 

Is it possible to miss New York so soon after leaving?  Anywhere was better than Kansas.

Three ear-splitting roars of thunder rumbled one after the other, as though the universe shared my anger.   Something told me it was going to be a long, sleepless night.