Marriage For One

“Yes.”

“How is your relationship with them?”

“We’re not close.”

“Oh? You had a falling out?”

“You could say that. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Do they know you got married?” she asked.

“I didn’t inform them, no, but I’m sure they’ll hear it from someone soon enough.” I glanced at her and our eyes met for a brief moment before I looked away. “I’m afraid they wouldn’t approve of my choices, so I didn’t feel the need to let them know.”

“I understand.” There was an awkward pause. “Wow. I really needed that confidence boost, so thanks for that.”

I didn’t think she understood at all, but I didn’t correct her.

“And can I say two peas in a pod? Look at us, we don’t really have any family.”

“Looks like that.”

She huffed out a breath and leaned on the railing, mirroring my stance. After a peaceful stretch of silence between us, an ambulance passed with the sirens blaring and screeched to a halt somewhere down below us, interrupting my thoughts. Having a heart-to-heart conversation with my wife under the night sky was absolutely not the best way to keep my distance.

“When do you think you’ll be opening the coffee shop?” I asked, shifting the subject to something safer.

“I’m mostly ready, mostly being the operative word. When I finish painting, I’ll have all the big things out of the way. The chairs and the sign that will go outside are coming soon, and I need to buy a few more kitchen things.” She sighed and rested her chin on her propped-up hand. “I think three weeks? It depends on a lot of things. All the paperwork is ready, so there is no reason not to jump right in. Thank you for that, too—you know, for handling the paperwork stuff.”

I noticed her trying to cover a yawn.

“Don’t mention it. You can’t paint to save your life. You know that, right?”

“Excuse me? I paint beautifully,” she shot back with a frown on her face.

“From what I saw today, it was patchy. I could still see the red of the old paint underneath. That’s not an indication of beautiful painting.”

She snorted. “Again, excuse me, but that was a very bright red—it would show no matter what I did with only one coat of new paint over it. Everyone knows that. First coat is always patchy. I did the hard part then you came at the end and stole my work.”

“Everyone knows that?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes! Ask any professional painter.”

“How many professional painters do you know exactly?”

“How many do you know?”

I met her eyes and shrugged. “A few.” Relaxing a little further, I waited for her comeback.

“Fine. You win that one. I don’t know any, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I paint beautifully.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. You did one wall, but I’m gonna paint the whole place. Say I don’t paint beautifully after you see that.”

“Actually, since you’ll be painting my property, I’d like to make sure you’re not ruining my walls. I’ll be there tomorrow to keep an eye on things.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Fine. Keep an eye on things then. The property might be yours now, but those will be my walls for the next two years. I’m not letting you mess anything up.”

Trying to cover my unexpected smile, I cleared my throat. “Thank you for the permission. If you’re planning on doing more of your ‘beautiful’ painting, as you put it, you need to get some more rest.”

“Are you provoking me?”

“Why would I want to do that?” And wasn’t that the truth? Why the hell would I want to do that? Too bad I didn’t have an answer to my own question.

She faced me, and I was forced to return her gaze.

“You really think you can do a better job than me?” she asked.

I arched an eyebrow. “I did do a better job than you.”

“Right. Instead of just keeping an eye on things, pick up a paint roller then.”

Apparently, I was canceling my meetings for the next day or so. “We’ll see how it goes.”

She paused.

“I know it looks pretty bare right now, but wait until you see everything together. More importantly, I’m really good with coffee, and the pastries will be to die for. If I can manage to do everything that’s in my mind, it’ll look great in about a week or two.”

“What else is on your mind?” I asked, genuinely curious, her enthusiasm catching.

She smiled up at me. “I think I’m gonna keep the rest to myself, just in case I screw it up or can’t get it done in time.”

“Sounds like you have everything planned and under control.”

“There are so many more things I need to deal with though, a million little things. Are you going to be there on opening day?”

“Do you need me to be there?” It didn’t matter what her answer was—I knew I was going to be there anyway.