Marriage of Unconvenience

“Keep your fingers crossed I find a job instead.”

He held up his hands and crossed all his fingers except for his thumbs and then crossed his eyes at me.

“You got it.”

I hadn’t told my mom about losing my job yet, and the lying was killing me. We were pretty close, and I told her just about anything. But I couldn’t tell her about this, because then she would try to give me money that she and Dad didn’t have. Of course, he’d gotten money when Gram died, but all of it was gone now. Gone into the several-hundred-year-old farmhouse they lived in, and to medical bills when my mom had had her gallbladder out.

To add insult to injury, my car needed a bunch of repairs and wasn’t drivable, and my rent wasn’t exactly cheap. Living in Boston cost major bucks, but I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. I’d grown up just west of Boston, and had always set the city in my mind as where I eventually wanted to be. I went to BU and graduated with a degree in business and communications. I was a Boston girl, through and through.

I had more than a few friends that had made their way from small towns to Boston and had had to go back and live with their parents. I knew there was nothing wrong with that, but I couldn’t handle the idea of that for myself. There wasn’t a whole lot in the way of industry in my hometown. I couldn’t go back.

My roommate, Lisa, was out when I got back. She and I weren’t exactly friends, but we got along okay for two strangers who shared an apartment. We stayed out of each other’s way, and it worked.

I grabbed a fresh bag of chips with pink sea salt and mixed up a quick mug cake to satisfy my need for something sweet. I stripped down to my bra and undies and put on one of my comfort romantic comedies.

“Thanks, Gram,” I said, raising a chip to the ceiling. As a result of the whole “you have to be married to get the money,” I wasn’t really keen on the whole marriage idea. My parents had eventually gotten married when I was older, but only so they could share health insurance and file a joint tax return. They’d gone to the courthouse and told me about it after. There weren’t even any pictures.

I guess I just didn’t see the point. Why did you need to do something like that to prove your love? And don’t even get me started about the wedding industry. Total expensive bullshit that somehow everyone thought was necessary. Hard pass.

No, I wasn’t getting married. Fake or real.

Two

I spent the next week chasing down job leads and eating a ton of peanut butter sandwiches, because I was trying to save as much money as possible. I’d also put some of my furniture and books up for sale online. Any little bit of cash was welcome.

Friday afternoon I got a text from Cara and, reading between the lines, something was up. I hoped she wasn’t going to ask me for dating advice. I knew fuck all about dating men. We hadn’t talked a lot lately since she’d been busy applying to grad school, and I missed her. I’d known Cara practically my whole life. Our desks had been put together in kindergarten and that had been it. We’d had a hiatus for a while when she’d moved across the country during high school, but she’d come back to Boston for college and we’d been just as close ever since.

Wanna get brunch tomorrow? I asked her.

Yes, please. Our usual place?

You got it.

I already knew what she was going to order. Blueberry pancakes, hash, and a glass of cranberry juice. She probably knew what I was going to order, even if I didn’t yet. There wasn’t a whole lot about Cara that I didn’t know, and that was so comforting. I didn’t want to burden her with my bullshit if she had her own, but it might come spilling out anyway. I could never keep a secret from her for long.

I WAS A FEW MINUTES late meeting Cara, and I rushed into the diner to find her already sitting at a tiny two-person table in the back. The place was packed, but that wasn’t unusual. I smiled and squeezed through booths and tables and people to get to her.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked, as she stood up to give me a hug. I closed my eyes and realized she was using a new perfume.

“Good, how are you?” she replied, and released me. I was about to ask about the perfume, but the look on her face made me forget about it.