“Before, you said that you did something wrong.”
“Cutting your hair? I’m sorry. I was just doing my job. Well, Shonda’s job.”
I run my hand through the blond on top of my head. “Nah. I like this look just fine. That’s not what I meant. Last night I said, ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’ And you said, ‘Haven’t I?’”
I’m ready to refute any and all claims she’ll make against herself. In my eyes, Everly is perfect.
“Only if you tell me why you went along with our marriage.” She flashes the ring on her finger.
Mine is ringless. “I had my reasons.”
“And they were?”
The real answer is simple. Reckless altruism. Anything to bring me closer to my brother. I shift uncomfortably because I’m not ready to tell her why it was lucky that we got married. Everly will have questions about why I’m in this situation with the state and custody and I can’t bring myself to talk about it.
But I should know more about Todd in case he becomes a problem. “How about we take turns? I’ll share something personal and then you do. Back and forth.”
“It’s a deal.”
I say, “I grew up with relatively modest means. My father was a local pilot in the UP. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan,” I clarify, though she likely knows the geography since that’s where we said our vows.
I continue, “The winters can be brutal, and sometimes the only option is to fly in and out. Dad would bring people, supplies, and the like. Our mother raised my brother and me, as well as working as the secretary at the pastoral office at our local church. Still does. But when I say office, I mean our kitchen table. She scheduled Bible studies, groups, charity events and kept everything running smoothly. She gave a lot and asked for little in return, except for my father’s attention anytime he was home.” My throat tightens at the memory. “Granted, this was mostly before cell phones and those kinds of distractions, but she made it a point to feed their marriage and our family life as often as possible.”
“That’s beautiful. She sounds like a special woman.”
“Sure is. Anyway, I went off to college and she was proud of me, but that left her alone much of the time with Dad still flying. Then he was in a car accident. Tragic irony, considering Dad spent so much time airborne. He didn’t make it. Around the same time, I was drafted for the team. I went home, but sheinsisted I return to Boston. I was worried about her being alone, but she told me she had Jesus.”
I know how powerful the Lord is, but I can hardly bear the guilt at the memory of leaving my mother like that.
“She also told me that I was lucky to have been given three gifts in life: talent, opportunity, and faith. For the first two, she was referring to football. She told me not to squander any of them. So for that reason, when I have the opportunity to give someone a gift, I do. No questions asked. When Jimmy said you needed help—” I shrug. “In truth, I just took action.” There is more to it, given the situation with Bran and now my lawyer, but I can’t dig deeper than that. Not yet.
“I’m in your debt,” Everly says in almost a whisper, as though more debt threatens to crush her.
“You’re not. Not at all. That’s the thing about gifts. The giver doesn’t expect anything in return. The joy we find is in our ability to give.”
“Well, thank you.”
I nudge her shoulder and take a risk. “Little did I know I was going to get a hot wife out of the deal.”
“First rule of Marriage of Convenience Club...”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you asked. I broke the rule and answered.”
“It’s a gray area.”
“Har har. Are there any other official club rules we should have?” I ask.
“We have the first two rules. Borrowing from the?—”
“Should I be concerned that you watched the Fight Club movie? Are you part of a secret, underground boxing ring?”
“It was a book first and don’t worry, Brad Pitt doesn’t have anything on you.”
“I should hope not because if he came at me, fists flying—” I stop because I don’t think that’s what she meant. If the sketchesare any indication, she finds me pleasant enough to replicate on paper. “Back to the rules.”
“There are eight. You know the first two. We don’t talk about it. Three, if one of us wants out—” She thumbs over her shoulder.
“You mean separation? Divorce?”
