I follow her inside, taking my shoes off before stepping onto the plush rug layered over the hardwood floor.
Margaret walks into the kitchen, takes the lid off a pan, and scoops out cinnamon rolls onto two plates. She walks back into the living room, hands me a plate, and sits down in her favorite chair. I’ve only been here a handful of times, but it’s the only place I’ve ever seen her sit in her house.
“Now, why don’t you sit down there and tell me all about it? I’m sure I can help.”
“I have a little bit of a problem, and I’m going to need to swear you to secrecy.”
She lowers her voice as she asks, “Do you need some sort of legal help? Because I know a guy who can make some fake IDs.”
I grin at that because, of course, her immediate response to helping someone would be to help them flee the law.
“No, it’s more like…I have money problems.”
Margaret frowns at that. “Are they not paying you enough at the clinic? Because I could talk to the owner.”
“No, they’re paying me a fair wage there. I just have a huge student loan to pay off. And I have a way to do that. I just have to do a favor for a friend.”
“And what is this favor?”
“I have to marry him.”
Margaret’s plate falls to the ground with a loud clank. The remaining half of the cinnamon roll splats onto the hardwood. She sucks in a sharp breath and bends down to pick it up, setting it on the plate, then resting the plate on her lap. I have not seen Margaret stunned before, so this is a first.
“Well, do you like this friend?” She’s trying to sound nonchalant, but I can hear the curiosity in her voice.
“Yeah, I do. He’s a great friend.”
“Would this end up being a real marriage?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I say. “But the thing is, it does need to be a legal marriage. We need the marriage certificate, and we will probably stay married for…I don’t know how long. We haven’t put a set time on it yet.”
“And you need a favor from me in this? Do you want my advice, or do you want my help?”
“Maybe both,” I say sheepishly.
“All right, tell me about this boy that you might marry.”
“It’s Miles.”
Margaret’s eyes go wide, and then she slowly grins. “Well, isn’t this a wonderful development? I just knew you two would be perfect for each other, which is why I insisted he let you move in. He didn’t want to at first—oh no, I had to convince him, and I’m so happy I did because you two are just right for each other.”
I have to correct her before she gets the wrong idea. “No, this isn’t a real marriage. Like, we’re just going to get married and keep being roommates.”
“Most people are,” Margaret says sagely.
“It’s not going to be that way. Just a contract that’s legally binding and we pretend to be a happy couple in front of his family,” I blurt out so fast that there’s not really any space between my words.
Margaret stares at me for a moment, then slowly sets down her plate on the small coffee table next to her chair. “Let me see if I understand this. You and Miles are going to get married. And it’s going to be a pretend marriage. You’re going to trick his family into thinking you’re madly in love, and you want me to help you. Do I have it right?”
I cringe but nod slowly.
Margaret grins. “Where do I sign?”
EIGHTEEN
Lucy
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Miles asks as he stands in my bedroom doorway.
