Sixteen
The two weeks of waiting until we could get the certified copy of the marriage certificate were both annoying and a hell of a lot of fun. Cara and I settled into a routine where she would go to work, I would go on job interviews and putter around the house and make dinner for her to come home to. We also hung out with our friends as a couple, and picked out all the new furniture we wanted to get when the money came in.
It was all adorable and domestic, and made me feel like a real wife. I even got myself a frilly apron.
“How was your day, dear?” I asked one night when Cara came home from work. I was in the kitchen with a spatula in my hand and a steak stir-fry going on the stove in a wok.
“Good, thanks,” Cara said. She always seemed surprised to come home and find me in the kitchen making dinner, even though I’d been doing it consistently.
“I got another interview. This time at the Museum of Fine Arts for the gift shop. It’s only part time, but I’d get a free membership, so that would be cool. We could go and be all artsy and make serious faces and comments about abstract art like we actually understand it.” Cara put her chin on my shoulder from behind and put her arms around my waist. I froze for a second. Cara was definitely more comfortable with touching me now, and it wasn’t my imagination. She had no problem with hugs and lying next to each other on one of our beds, or cuddling on the couch. It wasn’t a big deal, but sometimes my brain told me it was.
“Sounds like fun. Plus, you’d be working with a lot of smart people and you’d get to see a lot of art. That wouldn’t be bad.” I didn’t think so.
“Something tells me it’s not going to help with my non-existent artistic talent. Oh, I need your help looking up some famous paintings so I can gush about them in the interview. That’s one of the requirements.” I could think of paintings that I liked all day long with no pressure, but in the intense and anxiety-provoking environment of a job interview, my brain liked to stop working. I had the rest of the questions down, but that was a new one I hadn’t practiced yet.
“Of course. Hey, can you do laundry tomorrow? I really want to wear that new romper I got.”
“No problem,” I said, flipping some of the steak pieces in the wok with the spatula. Cara’s hands were still lingering on my waist and I could feel her breath stirring my hair.
I kept moving, pretending I didn’t notice that she was still there, but my lungs were struggling to work, and I didn’t know how to get my brain to focus on just stirring the food.
“I can’t wait to get back to school. Is that weird? I miss homework.” She stepped away at last and I nearly gasped in relief. My body just went haywire whenever she was that close. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the intensity of my reaction hadn’t gone down at all. It had gotten worse since we’d moved in. Our proximity was hard sometimes. It filled me with the most uncomfortable ache that made my skin and bones hurt. It never lasted very long, but the episodes had gotten more and more frequent and I didn’t know how to deal with them. I just wanted to live with Cara and for everything to be fine. It was going to be fine.
“You ready for next week?” Obviously, we couldn’t get our money on the weekend, so we were probably getting it sometime next week, after the financial advisor got our Priority Mailed documents. I had this horrible fear that they’d somehow get lost in the mail so I’d checked and double and triple checked the address and the name of the person processing it. Even Cara told me I was going overboard with making sure that everything was prefect. I just couldn’t fuck this up. My bank account was almost empty, my car had been sitting useless in the garage, and I had bills coming up that I couldn’t pay on my own. Being broke was terrifying. I was still expecting something to go wrong, or for this all to fall apart.
“I just want this all to be over. The money part, I mean. The fake marriage part is pretty great.” I peeked at her as she went to the fridge to get some drinks.
“It’s been good practice. Although I’m not sure what it says that I’m the only one working and you’re the one here cleaning and cooking and all that.” I turned around to face her.
“What’s wrong with that? I’m not working right now. The least I can do is stuff around here while you’re at work. And it’s not like we’re sharing money. All the money you have is yours.” I didn’t expect any sort of money from her, even if she had a repayment plan and was insisting on starting it as soon as she graduated.
“I don’t know. You’re already giving me all this money and you let me move in and everything. I feel like I’m mooching.”
“Cara Lynne, we have already been over this, time and time again. You’re not going to convince me that you’re an evil moocher, so stop it.” I pointed my spatula at her to emphasize my words.
She popped the top of her soda and sipped silently.
“I can’t help the way I feel, Loren,” she said. “The little voice in my head likes to whisper mean things to me sometimes.”
“Fuck the little voice. The little voice is an asshole who should mind their own business.” I would punch the little voice if I could.
“Thanks, Lo,” she said, setting down her soda and opening her arms to me. I walked into them and snuggled against her. I loved the way her hair smelled and was always so shiny and silky. Mine was always a hot frizzy mess, no matter what the weather. It was especially horrible in the humidity, like right now.
I let myself hold her until I remembered the food and turned off the heat just in time so nothing burned. Cara got out plates and we went to her bedroom to eat. We’d also decided to buy a small table and chairs to eat at. No idea where we were going to put them, but Cara was going to do apartment Tetris and make it work.
My parents called pretty frequently to check up on us and see how we were doing. They’d cleaned up the barn, returned the rented tables, and Dad had coiled all the twinkle lights back up and stored them in the attic. I had no idea what else they were going to use them for, but I had the sneaking suspicion that Christmas was going to be especially lit this year. I couldn’t even think that far forward. All I could think about was getting to the money, and I’d deal with everything else that came after that. I would breathe free when my bills were paid, my car was fixed, and Cara’s check to pay for school had cleared. Life was going to be a cakewalk after that. Soon. We would be there so soon.
“KISS FOR LUCK,” CARA said as we stared at the envelope that had all the documents required to disburse the inheritance money. I kissed it, and then she kissed it and we headed into the post office to mail it.
“We definitely need to celebrate this one,” Cara said. “I’ll treat you to lunch.”
I couldn’t stop shaking with the stress of mailing that damn thing. Those papers were going to haunt me in my sleep. Not to mention the fact that I had my interview in a little while at the Museum of Fine Arts and I was nervous about that as well. I’d been through plenty of interviews, but this one I really wanted to nail because I thought this job wouldn’t totally suck ass.
“I’m too nervous to eat,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’ll come with you if you want to get something.”
“No, that’s okay. Would you be up for getting a green juice or something?” I could handle liquids, so I agreed and we headed for the nearest fresh juice bar. We didn’t have to walk too far, which was nice.
“Do you want me to come with you to your interview? I know I won’t come in with you or anything because that would be weird, but I could at least drop you off and then wait for you. Maybe even browse a little.”
I shook my head.
“That would be weird. Like, here I am with someone else because I’m not enough of a big girl to do this on my own.” Cara sipped her mango and strawberry smoothie.
“I could pretend I don’t even know you and just happened to walk into the museum at the same time. And then we can meet back up in the lobby. No one will know.” The idea of knowing that Cara was waiting for me to get out of my interview did have its appeal.
“Okay, fine. But you really have to pretend that you don’t know me.”
“I’ve got this.”
IN BETWEEN WAITING to hear about how the interview went, and refreshing my bank account details, I was a ball of stress for the next two days.
“We’ve got money!” I screamed as my bank account suddenly had more money in it than I knew what to do with. Cara ran into the living room, her toothbrush still in her mouth and toothpaste dripping down her chin.
“Seriously?” she said, spitting toothpaste everywhere. I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
“Yes! It’s finally here!” I jumped up from the couch and Cara threw her toothbrush on the floor and we screamed and jumped up and down and hugged each other and got coated in minty toothpaste.
She started crying and then I started crying as we just swayed and held each other.
“It’s all happening, Care. It’s all for you,” I whispered. “I’d do anything for you.”
I looked down into her sparkling eyes and it was like looking at her during our wedding all over again. She had that same gleam of happiness shining out of her so bright, she was luminous.
“I’d do anything for you, Loren,” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. One minute I was staring at her, and the next, I was kissing her minty mouth. The contact only lasted about half a second, because I pulled away so fast I almost fell over, but it was still a kiss.
“Sorry,” I said, wiping my mouth with my hand. “I don’t...” I let the sentence trail off and drop. I didn’t know how to finish it.
“It’s okay,” she said in that faraway voice.
“We should probably, um, clean up?” I made it sound like a question. My brain wasn’t exactly firing properly right now. It was doing its best, but everything was shaken up and scrambled.
“Right,” she said, looking down at the splatters of white all over the floor and all over both of us.
“I’ll... get something.” I couldn’t even form a full sentence without a huge pause to figure out what words were supposed to come next. I needed to do something, so I found some paper towels and cleaner and went back into the living room. Cara was picking up her toothbrush from the floor slowly. I went to work on the floor and she went back to the bathroom and I heard the sink turn on.
What the fuck was I doing? I had kissed her. What the hell? I was going to blame it on money euphoria. She’d kissed me during the wedding, so it wasn’t like I was the only one doing any kissing. The toothpaste burned my lips and I wiped it off as best I could.
Cara was in the bathroom for a long time, and when she came out, I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything and she asked me if we could put in the order for the new furniture, so I said yes and that was that.
Money made you do all kinds of strange things. Like kiss your fake wife. I hoped it didn’t change me too much. I wasn’t going to let it. And I wasn’t going to let myself kiss Cara again. Definitely not.
Fortunately, I got an email that distracted me (a little bit) from the spontaneous kiss.
“I got the job!” I screamed, and Cara dashed out of her bedroom in a new outfit.
“The one at the MFA?” she asked. I nodded and she hugged me again, but she let me go quickly, and stepped away, folding her hands behind her back.
“This calls for... something. Something special.” We’d been celebrating so much lately that I didn’t know if I could handle much more.
“Can we just order sushi and watch that new episode of the baking show in our pajamas?” I asked. That sounded perfectly celebratory to me.
Cara laughed and I hoped we’d put the kiss thing behind us and never mention it again.
“Yeah, we can do that. Solid plan.”
This was going to be the best fucking sushi of my whole life.