Laughter.
Honest to God laughter. My gaze cuts toward the kitchen in horror when I realize it’s both my mother and my father. And the full-time nurse too, a pretty girl named Yolanda.
“What’s going on in here?” I enter the kitchen expecting a meltdown. I’m always on edge lately. But instead of the usual bickering, Mom and Dad are eating while Yolanda’s making them stewed red beans and chicken. It smells amazing.
“Your parents are being silly ducks again,” Yolanda says with a big smile. She waves a spoon at my father. “Especially you, Vinnie.”
Dad turns to me and I expect him to squint in confusion. Instead, he seems to brighten. “Deanna? When did you get home?”
My heart spreads open like a flower reaching for sunshine and for one brief moment I drink in the recognition in his gaze, but I quickly force all that hope and joy back down into the black pit where it belongs. Dad’s not so far gone that he never knows who I am anymore, but it won’t last. I try to enjoy it while I can, but if I start thinking he’s fixed, it’ll only break me all over again.
“Hey, Dad, what’s so funny in here?”
“I was telling them a story.” His enormous smile is so familiar it makes me ache. This is the dad I’ve always known. Funny, the center of attention, soaking up everyone’s laughter. But his mouth falters and his bushy brows knit. “It was a good one. I think… about my brother… or maybe that time…”
“It was about our first date,” Mom supplies and I swear on my tombstone she’s actually blushing. She touches Dad’s hand. “When you stole those flowers for me?”
Dad perks up instantly. “That florist! The bitchy one! Excuse my language but she wasmeanand Ihatedher with a passion. Didn’t feel bad for one second when I… you know… took those…” He trails off again, looking down at his hands.
I know what happens next. He becomes frustrated he can’t articulate what happened anymore. He knows there’s something missing and that’s the hardest part. When he notices, we all notice, and it’s a fresh knife in my heart. This is the part where Mom pushes him, which only makes it worse, and he starts shouting and gets even more confused, and the whole night spirals?—
“Don’t you worry about any of that, Mr. Vinnie,” Yolanda says, placing a bowl of food down in front of him. “Why don’t you eat up and let your beautiful wife tell you the story for once? Bet you haven’t heard it from her in a long time, huh?”
Dad frowns at the bowl, but Mom’s touch on his hand tightens. “You were so proud of yourself, stealing those flowers.”
“I was, right?” He softens and takes a bite of the food. It’s slow and unsure. Mom has to help him. “Tell me more.”
I let out a long breath and give Yolanda a grateful smile. Before her, this would’ve been a terrible evening. Dad would’ve melted down and Mom would’ve pushed him further. Now it’s like Yolanda acts like a buffer between them, giving Mom permission to accept what’s happening to him while softening their interactions.
It hasn’t been perfect. Dad has his bad days and Mom’s still convinced he’ll come through. But ever since I hired her on full time, life in this house has been better. Maybe as good as it could possibly get given the circumstances.
One year. That’s my runway. I have a year to prove to Prime that I’m worth this doubled salary. Determination fills me as my phone buzzes with a message from one of the women I’m considering.
Brittany Cole: I know this is crazy, but fuck it! Tell Prime I’m totally down to get wifed up!
And there’s the first option locked in, or as close as I can get. If I can nail this bride search, maybe he’ll realize I’m indispensable… and he’ll keep paying me this double rate… and I can afford Yolanda, take care of my father, keep my mother happy, and come through for them the way I’ve always wanted.
Just takes a ring and a white dress and some stupid vows.
CHAPTER 8
DEANNA
“Listen Prime, I worked myass offto get this far with your little problem, so I want you to take this seriously.”
My boss leans back in his chair and barely glances up from his phone. “This is my future we’re talking about. I don’t think it’s a joke.”
Tell that to your stupid face, asshole. I rub the tight spot between my eyes. I’m being shorter with him than usually, but my patience is worn thin.
This hasn’t been a smooth process.
Most of the women I tried laughed in my face. None have been as easy as Brittany Cole to convince. I swear, one woman even had me repeat the question on speaker phone so her mom could hear and both of them cackled like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
After about ten flat out rejections, I asked a woman named Kaley why I wasn’t getting anywhere.
“You want my honest opinion? It’s that Prime’s not serious.”
I immediately knew what she meant, but I pressed for more details in case I was missing something.
