D iana

Okay. Begging Jason Cheng not to dump me before prom still wins the prize for most pathetic moment of my life, but this gets a top-five spot. This is the same sodden drunk I almost left on the curb not six hours ago, and now I’m—well, not socializing with him, exactly, but definitely edging up on that territory .

At least this time, I can admit it to myself: I don’t want to be alone. I’m sick of being a work hermit, no social life to speak of, turning on the news for company .

Besides, I wanted to check on James for my own peace of mind. Caught myself listening for his breathing at the lights, a couple of times. He was so still, so waxy; wasn’t sure whether to drive him to work or to the hospital .

He looks a lot better now. Got some color in his cheeks, and his hair doesn’t look like a crow’s nesting in it .

“So, uh....” He tilts his head, flashing me one of those lopsided grins. “If it’s not too far out of your way, I was wondering...nah .”

“What?”

“It’s just, I haven’t eaten since last night, and all I got at home’s those McCain’s frozen pizzas. Thought we could stop somewhere, you and me ....”

Hallelujah. “What’re you in the mood for ?”

“Y’know Young’s Thai, on Highway 20 ?”

“Sure.” I could do crispy wontons: no wrong time for comfort food .

“Let’s go there, then.” I let him prattle on about how he used to be a good cook, but thinks he’s lost his touch; how he loves Iron Chef , but what’s with some of those secret ingredients?—he’s got a soothing voice, all low and gruff. Love that accent. He’s kind of funny, too, in a wry kind of way. “—but I’m just talking about me. What about you? What do you do when you’re not on the road ?”

Way to crash my daydream. “I....” I mean, worst possible question! Yesterday, I’d have had a good answer, or at least an answer, but today ....

“You all right?” James snaps his fingers. “Earth to Diana ?”

“Yeah, sorry, just...thinking of an answer .”

“You got to think about that ?”

“No.” My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “I mean, not exactly. I was about to give you yesterday’s answer, is all .”

“So what’s today’s answer ?”

“I got laid off. This morning. Right after I dropped you off.” I feel myself turning red. I’m not the type who gets laid off. I’m reliable. Indispensable. Year-round material. “It’s a winter thing,” I explain. “No tourists, no jobs. But I was originally—I was supposed to stay on. This is the first year there’ve been two rounds of layoffs. I thought....” Well, who cares what I thought ?

“So you’re driving full time now ?”

“I’ve still got my 7-11 job, but that’s strictly part-time. And Uber’s not...not exactly a living. There’s gas, maintenance, cleanup, and I’m always at my other job during the busy hours....” Ugh. He doesn’t need to hear this, any more than I want to think about it. “Uh, what are you going to eat ?”

“Papaya salad and the stir-fried glass noodles. Always .”

“Didn’t even have to think about that, huh ?”

“Hey, I know what I like!” James settles back in his seat. “Not just food, either. People, too. Like, I could tell you were good folk, from the second we met.” He stretches out, getting comfortable. “Not just ‘cause you’re pretty—I know what you’re thinking. But you are. High cheekbones, long legs...big heart ....”

“You are so cheesy.” Feels good, though, letting the flattery wash over me .

“Aw, c’mon...I’m not trying to, y’know ....”

“What?”

“Warm my fingers in your squish mitten ?”

“What!? ”

“Dip my sausage in your hot pot ?”

“Oh, my God!” This guy’s crazy .

“Lap the grease off your bacon rose ?”

“Holy fuck—stop right now!” I blink tears of laughter out of my eyes—where’d he even learn that shit...? “That’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard .”

“You feel better, though, don’t you ?”

“Don’t make me laugh while I’m driving.” I choke back the last of my giggles and flip on my turn signal. Young’s is just ahead. “And you better not say anything like that while I’m eating. I won’t be held responsible for anything sprayed in your face.” I feel him firing up a dirty rejoinder, and shoot him a glare. “Nope! Don’t touch that !”

James holds up his hands in defeat. “Hey, I’m a gentleman !”

“Sure you are .”

It’s quiet in the restaurant, which suits me just fine. James is as good as his word: he keeps the dinner conversation strictly G-rated...Well, mostly. He can’t seem to help the odd naughty joke. But he’s sharper than I thought: that lazy accent and party-boy persona cover quite the lively mind .

He leans back as the meal’s winding down, pinning me with an intense gaze. “Y’know, I wasn’t that drunk, this morning .”

“Hm?” Not sure where he’s going with that .

“That whole thing, when I said we should get married?” He toys with a bit of stir-fried broccoli, turning it over on his plate. “Still think that’s a good idea .”

This is a weird joke. “For what, the tax break ?”

He bites off the head of the broccoli and discards the stalk. “Nah, for ourselves. I mean—hear me out: you got laid off; I got, well...I’ll get into that later, but.... We could help each other. Try it on for size. Like an arranged marriage, only we’re the ones arranging it, instead our parents, or whoever .”

“You...what? ” I glance around. “I don’t see Rod Serling, but I’ve definitely entered the Twilight Zone .”

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not that weird.” He lowers his voice as the waiter goes by. “Or it is, but...more unconventional weird than creepy-weird. Like, you could give me a year, eighteen months. You wouldn’t have to worry: any bills, any expenses—those’d be covered. And at the end, if it didn’t work out, you’d walk away free and clear. With a million dollars.” He pauses, like he’s thinking it over. “Yeah. A million dollars .”

“You....” I’m pretty sure he’s kidding, but I seriously don’t get it. Shouldn’t he have arrived at the punch line by now ?

“Yeah?”

“You want to...what? Have a whole wedding, a marriage, on a whim? And eighteen months later, you—we just—I get laid off? With a severance package?” I laugh. “You sure that was water, not vodka ?”

James looks genuinely horrified. “No—no, I mean...shit! I wouldn’t just....” He makes a scratch that motion, scrubbing his hand to and fro. “Don’t think I put that quite right. Try thinking of it more as a...as a regular marriage, with an abridged courtship, and an unusual prenup .”

“An unusual prenup ?”

“Yeah. We get married, but instead of till death do us part, it’s a trial run. If we’re not head over heels by the eighteen-month mark, we part as friends. And of course, there’d be some kind of parenting agreement, if we happened to...y’know, if you ....”

If I...what!? —this guy’s certifiable !

“What...What would be in it for you ?”

James sighs, and for a moment, that tired guy from the Starlight Motel shows through. “Look, I know this sounds psycho. I’m just gonna....” He massages his temples. Can’t help but feel bad for him—if he is serious, he’s pretty far out on a limb. Something’s got to be driving him to it, something desperate .

“Just tell me .”

“I guess I’ve been...kinda going off the rails lately. But before that, before I got stupid, started filling my weekends with—well, you don’t wanna know—I started Dovecote. Not sure if you’ve heard of us, but we’re a biotech firm. Lifesaving stuff. Cancer treatments.” He looks up from his plate. There’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before, something like excitement. “We’re working on breast cancer now, but what we’re doing, it could have implications for any kind of metastatic growth, any kind of chemo-resistant tumor. We could go from, y’know, cut it, radiate it, and hope for an extra year, to complete eradication.” He’s animated, passionate—I get the feeling he could talk about his work all night. I’m also getting the sinking feeling none of this is a joke .

“So, you....” I shake my head. “I mean, that’s amazing; that’s—really, it’s incredible. I’m just not sure how marrying a stranger comes into it .”

James has the grace to look sheepish. “Ah, Diana, I fucked up...fucked up so bad.” He rubs at his face. “I’ve been.... Had to bring on some investors to get off the ground. At the time, it was fine. All I did was work, and everything was great, and we were...ugh.” He pushes his plate away, looking sick .

“What happened ?”

“We started making money. And I got stupid. Started spending it, but...Y’know, once I had the house, the car, the toys...what was left but the lifestyle ?”

“By which I’m guessing you don’t mean, like...polo and champagne brunch .”

He winces. “Might’ve started with that, but lately it’s been all champagne and no brunch, if you know what I mean .”

“I’m still not seeing ....”

“There’s this morality clause—I’m not allowed to, y’know, tarnish the Dovecote name. Which is technically my name, so what the fuck? But if I do, they can buy me out, just like that, no contest, no recourse. And these aren’t the kinds of people who’ll replace me with someone good, someone who’ll carry on my life’s work. These are—“ He looks at me with something like horror. “They’re gonna shut down my trials, sell off my patents—I’d have to...I couldn’t even start over. Wouldn’t own any of my research, any of my...anything. It’d be over. I’d be over .”

“And you think if you were married, on the straight and narrow, your investors might — “

“It’d get ‘em off my back for a while.” He leans forward, earnest, pleading. “I just need a year. Maybe eighteen months. Then I’ll be able to buy ‘em back out, do whatever I want. But the way things are going, I’m not sure I’ll make it that long .”

“So I’d be your...respectability beard .”

“No! ” He brings his palms down on the table, so loud everyone looks our way. “Sorry—I mean, yeah, but also no. I honestly think if I had some...some affection in my life, someone to come home to, maybe....” James looks up at me. “Can you truly say that’s nuts ?”

“I...think you could probably use some therapy.” I pat his hand till the wounded look fades off his face. “I get it, though. You’re in a spot. Sometimes ....”

“Mm?”

“Just, sometimes when things get tight, when your options run out...Those loony ideas start to sound pretty good.” I smile, and it’s not even forced. “Gotta admit, I wouldn’t hate having someone in my life. And a million dollars... That’d solve a whole lot of problems.” I shake my head. “What am I saying? Shit—am I on What Would You Do? Is that guy going to come out, John Quinones ?”

“Is it really that loony ?”

“Ugh—don’t use that voice !”

“What voice ?”

I know he knows what I’m talking about. “That soft, drawly, down-South type of...melted-butter, rolls off your tongue—you know what you’re doing. Where are you even from, that you talk like that ?”

“Statesboro.” He winks. “Y’know, down in Jawwww-ja .”

“You’re far from home .”

“Just a poor country boy looking for a bride.” He draws it out long, like luckin’ ferra braaaahd .

“C’mon, knock it off .”

“You know you love it .”

“Right.” I cast about for a distraction. “What are you even doing all the way up here ?”

“Used to come here as a kid. Always liked it—the seasons, the people. So when I needed a fresh start after college....” He sighs. “Anyway, enough about me. What do you think ?”

I shake my head. I want to turn him down flat, drive him home and pretend this never happened, but, heaven help me, I’m thinking about it. Don’t know what that says about me—don’t want to know—but what I do know is I’m headed back to a house with a leaky roof and a moldy basement, a yard full of crabgrass and a garage door that won’t close. And it’s empty. So empty. Not even a dog. Nothing but memories, which, if I’m honest, have been more painful than comforting lately. “I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but...Can I have some time to think it over ?”

His face lights up. “Really? You’ll—you’d consider it? I was positive the next words out of your mouth would be fuck off .”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll think about it. Might still be a fuck off in your future but... I’ll at least say it nicer .”

“Over another dinner, maybe .”

“Yeah. Like a consolation prize.” I fold up my napkin and toss it on my plate, wanting this dinner and this conversation to be over, at least for now. I don’t want him working that accent on me. Not till I’ve had a chance to think, away from him, away from that crazy fire that lit him up when he talked about his work. He’s one of those people who can make anything sound reasonable: I’m starting to see that about him. People like that can be bad news—leave you drowning, wondering how they talked you into jumping off that bridge .

Then again, maybe he’s a workaholic, well-meaning guy who got into some bad habits—someone who could use a hand up. Someone who’d do some good in the world, if he could avoid shooting himself in the foot .

Of course, if I say yes... We’d be married. Married. And it might be a marriage of convenience, but it doesn’t sound like he wants it to be fake , exactly. There’d be a wedding night, with all that entails. And I’m... I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. But there’s one thing I haven’t tried, and do I really want my first time to be with some drunk Uber guy I married for...money? Pity ?

Yeah. I need to think this through .