The Marriage Contract (Anderson Brothers)

“It’s that boy Chloe married,” Charles said to his wife. “What do you want? Here to ask if we will take her back?”

They both chuckled like the joke was actually funny. I shook my head.

“Quite the opposite,” I said. “I’m Chloe’s husband. Not because she’s rich, because as far as I know she doesn’t have a dime to her name. I’m Chloe’s husband because we’re in love. And we mean to be married the rest of our lives.”

“Hah,” Beverly said. “Who are you? How did you get here? How did you find our home?”

“Did they add us to the star tour again? This is why we have our own gate,” Charles said, again acting like the entire situation was a humorous anecdote.

“I’ll have you know I’m a successful businessman. I found you because I have contacts that run in the same circles as you. It wasn’t hard.”

“And what business would that be?” Beverly asked, nearly sneering.

“I own a bar in Portland with my brother,” I began. I was cut off by more laughter. I was seriously getting annoyed by their attitude and could easily see why Chloe wanted nothing to do with it. Maybe this entire thing was a huge mistake. I should just cut my losses and run.

“A bar? In Portland?” Charles asked, laughing. “What is your next business venture? A gas station in Cleveland?”

“The bar in Portland is our second, actually,” I said, my voice a low growl. “The first is in Astoria, our hometown, and it’s so popular that we usually have a line outside every evening. We’ve been in several nationwide magazines in the last few months.”

“Wait, Astoria?” Beverly asked, suddenly becoming somewhat serious.

“Yes. We’re renowned for our theme nights.”

“Charles,” Beverly said. “A moment, please.” She beckoned him to the side, and there was a hushed conversation. When they turned back around, Charles’s eyes were wide and his eyebrows halfway up his heavily Botox-laden face.

“This bar,” Beverly continued, “what would be the bartender’s name? The famous one?”

“Ava,” I said. “My brother Mason’s wife, Ava.”

“I told you,” Beverly said, turning on her husband.

“This is ridiculous,” Charles said. “So what?”

“So what?” Beverly responded indignantly. “Do you remember how close we were to everything falling apart? Do you?” Charles’s head bowed as he took in what she was saying. His lips pursed to one side, and he seemed uncomfortable with the memory. “Then you suggested we get away somewhere no one would know us. Somewhere that no one would recognize us if we dressed down. And where did we stop?”

“Astoria,” Charles said, huffing.

“And what did we do there?” Beverly asked.

“We stopped at a bar that was doing a fifties theme night and karaoke,” he said, begrudgingly.

“Our Astoria bar kept the two of you together,” I said. “The one in Portland drew your daughter and I together. Your daughter still loves you both, perhaps inexplicably. You have treated her like trash, but she is still desperate for your approval.”

“Why?” Charles said. “She left. She has her own life. She doesn’t need us.”

“She’s pregnant,” I said. Beverly dropped the glass she was holding, and it shattered on the floor. One of the maids came in from some beforehand unseen crevice in the wall with a dustpan and broom and began to sweep it up. Beverly took a few steps toward me and seemed like she was studying my face.

“She’s pregnant?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “We just found out. But she needs her parents in her life. I can provide for her. I can take care of her and our baby and give her everything they need. But she still needs her parents in her life. I cannot imagine what it would be like to try to live without my family. My brothers and my mother are everything to me. Without them, I would be lost. Especially now that I’m going to become a father. For her not to have her parents, at this time in her life, it’s cruel.”

Beverly acted as if that word in particular hurt her. She put one hand over her chest and turned to her husband for a moment before turning back to me.

“I am a good man,” I said. “I may not be what you wanted for her, but I am a good man. And I will not make a fool out of your daughter. I promise you that. I love her.”

“Charles,” Beverly said, going to him.

“What would we even do?” Charles said. “There’s been so much said. So much done.”

“You start by just being there. Don’t say anything, just be there. That will be enough. Then we take it step by step,” I said.

“Where is she now?” Beverly asked. There was a new softness in her eyes. I recognized that softness. It was the same one that was in my mother’s eyes when she heard she was going to be a grandmother for the first time.