“Oh, the old guy from church you’re supposed to marry.”
“Yes!”
She pulled me into a hug and murmured in my hair, “Yeah, I don’t see that happening. At least, if I know Alan like I think I do.”
“What can Alan do? My parents aren’t going to listen to anyone outside the church. My mom sounded like their minds were made up.”
“Can I tell Alan about this, and Jade if she comes in later? Between the four of us, I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“Okay.”
I agreed, even though I knew there was no solution. But at least I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell Alan.
****
Alan
Twenty minutes later, Lainey came out of the bathroom—without Jess.
“Everything okay?”
She dragged me toward the kitchen as she replied, “No. No, it’s not. We have a big problem.”
My hackles went up, and I immediately went into fight mode—a byproduct of ten years active in the Marines and my counterintelligence “contracting work” for the government.
The second we were alone, I asked, “Who do I need to end?”
“Whoa, tiger. There’s no need to ‘end’ anyone. We just need to figure out how to keep Jess from having to marry Kevin Roberts, the guy from her church who picked her up the other day.”
My brain was trying to process her words, but I couldn’t make sense of what Lainey just said. In what universe would Jessica marry the old church dude?
And did she say, “Jesshadto”? Like, she didn’t have a choice?
“Timeout”—I made the “T” gesture—“what the hell are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, this is what I know. Kevin approached Jess’s parents and offered to marry Jess and raise Ruthie as his daughter. Her parents are convinced no one else will marry her, since she’ssuch a sinner.” Lainey rolled her eyes.
I shook my head in disgust. “Please. That girl’s got the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Right? Anyway—her mom told her on the way here this morning that she might not have a choice if she doesn’t want to be disowned by her family.”
My irritation was growing by the second.
“Why does she even need to be married in the first place?”
“Because I have a daughter.”
I’d been so focused on trying to make what Lainey was saying make sense, I hadn’t heard Jessica come into the kitchen.
Her eyes were puffy, but she stood up straight and looked directly at me. She wasn’t defeated, more like resigned to her fate.
“But why does it have to be the guy from your church, who’s old enough to be your father?”
Her stoicism wavered, and her shoulders drooped ever-so-slightly. “No one else will marry me. And Ruthie needs a father, so she’s no longer considered a bastard.”
Had it been anyone else that had used the words “Ruthie” and “bastard” in the same sentence, I would’ve probably flipped the work table in the middle of the kitchen—and it was bolted to the floor.
But I knew it hurt Jessica to say it as much as it had me to hear it. I could only imagine the bullshit that was spewed at her on a regular basis—all in the name of religion.
