Fake Marriage Box Set

It was way too extravagant for my tastes, but this house was the only one that was immediately available and had an empty lot big enough to build another house. I had made the decision early on to redecorate the inside and make it simpler, turn it into a house fit for a single guy who didn’t even want to spend much time in it, but time had passed, and every estimate I’d received for an indoor remodeling had made me wince. Not that I didn’t have the money for it, but I didn’t feel as if that money was mine to spend.

I opened the door to my protein powder pantry and picked out a flavor I hadn’t yet tried, a banana caramel, and made a quick protein shake. I would squeeze in a workout between seeing mom and meeting Ron, so I made another regular vanilla protein shake and placed it in the fridge. I downed the banana caramel in the time it took for me to exit my house and walk across the few short yards it took to reach mom’s house.

It was much smaller than mine, with a one-story layout and simple decorations that only a mother would think of. A fountain in front with a bird house at the top, and beautiful flowers blooming from top to bottom in thick vines that hugged the red brick walls: I had spared no expense to make sure her house was exactly how she wanted it.

She had been diagnosed with cancer not too long ago and had fought against the idea of me building her a house while trying to convince both herself and me that she would be fine living in an assisted housing. I had quickly won that argument, and she had fallen in love with her house in less than a day.

I knocked on the front door and was greeted by Karen, her live-in nurse.

“Mr. Hayward,” she greeted me with a smile. An older woman, possibly five or 10 years older than my 55-year-old mother, with aging hair that made her seem wiser and a pair of thin glasses, pushed to the bridge of a button nose. She was short and plump, and despite he

r age, she always seemed to have the energy of a 20-year-old in their prime.

“I tell you all the time to call me Gavin,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Hayward was your father.” She smiled and showed me inside. There was a plate of breakfast, still hot with steam, on an otherwise empty wooden table in the living room, and the TV was playing mom’s favorites soap operas. Karen was beyond good to mom, always making sure she had food available in case her appetite ever resurfaced, and she was constantly cleaning the house top-to-bottom. She began reading to her as well when mom’s vision started to worsen. I took a small bite from one of the pancakes on the plate, delighted when a touch of cinnamon and sugar filled my mouth.

“I think I’m going to have to keep you around to take care of me when I’m older,” I joked. Karen rolled her eyes and led me toward mom’s room.

“If I’m still alive by then, just euthanize me.” She opened the door slowly. “It’s one of the good days.”

I pushed past her to see my mother lying in a bed far too big for her frail body. She was losing more weight as the days went on, and her beautiful black hair was thin and stuck to her skin with perspiration. She was breathing heavily in bed with eyes shut in pain.

“Mom,” I breathed. Her eyes, as light blue as mine, opened, and she immediately fought to lean on her elbows. “Don’t move,” I said. “You’re in pain.”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “I can still get up when my only son visits. I was just about to get up and go watch ‘Days of our Lives’, actually.”

“That trash?” I laughed. “I don’t know what’s worse for you, daytime drama or cancer.”

“The cancer,” she said, but her face held a soft smile. “Definitely the cancer.”

“Well, you’re going tomorrow to see Dr. Lemonis to see if it’s gotten better,” I said because I couldn’t handle it if it had gotten worse. “I know how much you like seeing him.”

“Only because his ass is cuter than both you and Karen, and you two are the only people I even see anymore,” she said.

“Yes, we know you really like his ass,” Karen said as she placed a cup full of pills and a glass of water on mom’s nightstand. “You stare at it every time he makes a house call.”

“House call?” I asked. “How many times has he visited you at home?”

“Just the once.” Mom coughed into her elbow. “I thought I had the flu.”

“You didn’t tell me this.” I groaned. “From now on when you think you even have a fever, you have to call me.”

“I’d be ringing your phone all day, Gavin,” she said. “You might as well put me in that giant house of yours that you live in all by yourself.”

“You know I already tried that,” I said. “You’re the one who refused to move into it.”

“Only because I didn’t want to be in the way when you eventually moved a woman into it.” She took her medicine with a smirk. “It’ll still happen.”

“There’s no woman,” I said for the millionth time. “Really, mom, you have bigger things to worry about.”

“It’s because I have bigger things to worry about that I worry about you,” she said. I hesitated near the bed.

“You never have to worry about me.” I held her thin, bony hand in mine and sat beside her. “Just get better. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. “You know how it is: good days are great, bad days are the worst.”

Despite how weak her body was, she seemed happy and almost energized. I smiled, it seemed that today was one of her good days.