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Marriage of Unconvenience by Chelsea M. Cameron (3)

Three

Of course I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and I told Ansel about my idea when we had pizza on Sunday night. He’d agreed to buy, and threw in a pitcher of cheap beer that I was slowly sipping, along with water.

“That would make way more sense than you and I getting married. Especially since you both need money.” Cara wasn’t any more attracted to me than Ansel was, and she’d been my best friend since we were kids. There weren’t any kind of romantic feelings involved, so it would still be a marriage for the money.

“I know. She’s hesitant about it, and I get that, but we both need this, and I know if she was in the same boat, she’d do the same. And I’m sure she’ll try to do some sort of ridiculous repayment plan or something. God, she’s probably working one out right now, with interest.” That was probably exactly what she was doing right now. I could see her with her brows furrowed in concentration.

Ansel chuckled.

“You’re right. I’m sure she is.” Obviously Ansel hadn’t known Cara as long as I had, but they’d met at the hospital right around the time I’d met him at a queer event, and had grown close in the years since.

“It just frustrates me that there’s a solution to a problem, and she might not want to do it. I just don’t want her to give up on her dream. She’s been wanting this her whole life. She used to operate on my stuffed animals and take out their fluff organs and then try to sew them back up.”

Ansel snorted into his slice of pizza.

“Not gonna lie, that’s a little disturbing.”

“I used to hand her the knife my parents told me I wasn’t ever supposed to touch, so there you go.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Now I’m scared of both of you.”

“You should be,” I said, tipping my beer at him.

I WAS GOING BERSERK waiting to hear from Cara. I had to fight every single urge in my body to text her and ask her what she thought. Instead, I texted and asked how she was.

Not great. Still crying.

Oh, that was not gonna fly. I asked her if she was at home and she said she was. Since I didn’t have a job anymore, I could do things like go and rescue one of my best friends in her moment of need in the middle of the day. I also brought cannoli from Mike’s Pastry, and a freshly made green juice with turmeric. I figured they were both needed.

I didn’t let her know I was coming over until I was outside her door.

Are you serious was the only response when I texted that I was waiting for her to let me in.

A few moments later, there she was, unlocking the door and letting me in with a shake of her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. But you love it,” I said, holding out the box of cannoli and the green juice.

“I do, and thank you.” Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were ruddy from streaking tears.

We walked up a set of narrow stairs to her tiny apartment at the top floor of the house, and settled down in her microscopic living room. There wasn’t even room for a full-size couch, only a love seat and a tufted chair perpendicular to it.

I decided to suck down the green juice and chase that with a cannoli. Cara went right for the cannoli.

“I needed this so much,” she said through a mouthful.

“I wish you’d called me sooner. I would have been here. I can be here now because I don’t have a job. Yay.” I waved my hands in mock excitement.

“Have you had any luck so far?”

“Not really. I’ve gotten a few immediate rejections, and no interviews yet. I don’t expect to hear on some for at least a week or more. Finding a job takes time. I wish one of those headhunters would find and recruit me. How do you get head hunted?”

She finished her first cannoli and licked her fingers.

“I have no idea. But if anyone should get head hunted, it should be you.” I squeezed her shoulder.

“Aw, thanks.”

There was a lull as I selected my first cannoli and Cara grabbed her second. I wasn’t quite sure how to bring up what I really wanted to know. As if she was reading my mind, Cara said, “So I thought about it. The marriage thing.”

“And?” I said, nearly jumping off the chair and dropping my cannoli.

“And... I’m still on the fence. It just seems like such a bad idea, Lo. Like, I’m afraid god is going to strike us down if we do this. Or that the government will put us in jail.”

“I mean, if we’d tried to get married a few years ago, we wouldn’t have been able to, but it’s all legal and shit now. The government, and god, have bigger things to worry about than if we’re getting married for love or money. And, to be fair, I do love you. You’re my best friend, Cara. Always have been. Don’t tell Ansel.” He would be extremely upset if he knew I’d called Cara my first and most best friend.

She smiled softly.

“I will. But I’m not sure.”

“What can I do to convince you?” I would do literally anything, including singing karaoke, which was my greatest fear.

“I don’t know, Lo.” Cara set her cannoli down and put her head in her hands. “It’s just... who does that? Who has a marriage of convenience?” Oh, was that what we were calling it? I kind of liked the sound of that. Even if being married to Cara would be a little more than convenient.

“People have been doing what we’re doing since the dawn of time. I can print you out a list if you want. But it’s gonna be a damn long list. We’re not doing anything wrong. That money is just sitting there, waiting to be used. It wants to be used. ‘Spend me, please!’ it says.” That made her laugh, and I felt like I was getting through to her.

“Are you sure you want to give it to me? I mean, I’ll pay you back. I promise. I have a payment plan.” She jumped up and grabbed a folder from her desk that sat in the corner of the room under the eaves.

“I knew we wouldn’t get through this without a spreadsheet,” I said. Cara was just so cute and predictable.

“I mean, it’s just a general idea,” she said, handing it to me. I barely looked it over, but I pretended to scan it.

“This looks good. But you don’t have to pay me back. It’s only if you want to, and if you have the money.” If she could get through school, she would make decent money as a PA. Much more than I could ever hope to make with my current career trajectory. Maybe I should go back to school. Everyone in Boston seemed to have at least a Master’s. I was always surrounded by so many educated people.

“I will pay you back. That’s non-negotiable. With interest.” I wanted to protest the interest, but I would agree to anything if only she would say yes.

“Okay,” I said, and she inhaled deeply.

“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

I jumped up.

“Are you serious?” I wanted to tackle-hug her.

“Yes. Hell, I’m going to regret this later, but right now I want to do this so you don’t have to worry. Me getting the money is secondary.” Of course it was. I’d feel the say way, in her shoes.

“So, we’re getting married?” I needed confirmation.

“We’re getting married?” It sounded like a question.

“Oh, we can’t do it like this. Come on.” I grabbed her hand and started dragging her toward the front door.

“Where are we going?” she said, stumbling along behind me. It didn’t hurt that I was a few inches taller and she was a little bit clumsy.

“Rings. We need rings, obviously. And I’m not turning down this opportunity to propose. Don’t worry, I won’t do it in public.” I let her gather her stuff and I grabbed my bag before we dashed to the closest train station and I looked up a cheap but nice jewelry store.

“We don’t have to do this,” Cara said at least five times before I dragged her into the store.

“Where are your lab-created stones? We need two rings,” I said to the woman standing behind the lighted cases. She blinked a few times at me and then looked at Cara, who was red-faced.

“They’re right over here,” she said, gesturing to the back of the store. All the expensive shit was front and center.

“Are these for a special occasion? Are you sisters? Friends?” I opened my mouth to correct her, but Cara spoke first.

“Friendship rings,” she said, stepping on my foot just enough to get her point across. Was she having an issue that this woman would think we were a real couple? Or was she still worried about the whole “marriage” part of what we were doing?

“Very nice,” the woman said, visibly relaxing. I wanted to roll my eyes at her, but a look from Cara stopped me. She was going along with my plan, so the least I could do was make things easy on her.

“So these are the rings we have. Not sure what you’re looking for.” I was struck immediately by a ring with a round emerald with cubic zirconia on either side. It was pretty and green and simple. Perfect.

“That one,” I said, pointing to it. That was the ring I wanted. The price was right and then it was up to Cara.

“I don’t know,” she said, biting her lip. I knew she wanted to do a pro and con list, and compare prices, but if we did that, we’d be in here for days.

“What about that one?” I asked, pointing at a rose gold ring that had one single oval opal set on the top. It was beautiful and sweet. Perfect for Cara.

“Can I try it on?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. I could tell already that she liked it by the way her hand shook as the saleswoman slid it on her finger.

“It’s a perfect fit,” she said. “That means it’s the right one. It was waiting for you.” Cara turned her hand right and left. The saleswoman had put it on her right ring finger instead of the left. My ring was too big, so she had to get one from the back. I quickly slipped the too large one on my left finger. Why did it make such a difference? Now I was the one with shaking hands.

“Are you sure we’re doing this?” Cara whispered as the saleswoman came back with the right size ring for me.

“Is there anything else I can do for you today?” she asked and we both shook our heads.

“Nope, this is it,” I said. She quickly rang us up, seeing that we weren’t going to be giving her a huge commission, and got us out the door.

“Holy shit,” Cara said, holding up the bag with the ring box inside.

“Yeah, holy shit. We’ve got rings, now all we need is a proposal and then a marriage certificate. Then we can live our dreams, corny as that sounds. Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, Cara. I can’t imagine fake marrying anyone else.” There was a lump in my throat for some reason. I had no idea why I was getting so emotional. Maybe it was the idea of seeing that opal ring on her finger and knowing that I was the reason it was there. And I’d have my own ring as well.

“What are you going to tell your parents?” she said.

I started laughing.

“I have no idea. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Why hadn’t I considered that people were going to know about this marriage?

“I think we should tell them the truth. Plus, they’re going to know. But as far as other people, I don’t really want to be the girl who has the fake marriage for money. So...” she trailed off.

“So, what are you saying?” My stomach dipped as if I was on a roller coaster.

“I’m saying that we’re gonna have to fake it. At least for a little while. I’m not saying we have to have a big declaration or anything, but I’m going to tell people I’m married. That we’d been friends for a long time and it turned into something more and we just decided one day to do it. Not that far from the truth, is it?” No, it wasn’t. My stomach rolled again, and it was hard to breathe. What was happening to me?

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ll tell people we’re married. Only the closest will know why we’re doing it. Everyone else will get the story.” Cara nodded.

“Okay. That makes me feel better. But before we announce anything, I think we should come up with a story. Because people are going to ask.” This was why I needed her in my life. She thought of things I would never consider.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Do you want to go back to your place?”

“Sure. I need a few more cannoli to deal with the fact that I have an engagement ring.” She held up the bag again and I snatched it from her.

“No you don’t.” I handed her mine. “You don’t get to have your ring until I propose. And vice versa.” She blinked at me a few times.

“What have I gotten myself into with you, Loren?” I loved it when she called me by my full name, I didn’t know why.

“Only one way to find out,” I said in a singsong voice as I started walking down the sidewalk.

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