Almost Hitched

by Kylie Gilmore

Kate was still pretending to review her bug report, working up the nerve to show Ian, when Barry unexpectedly joined them, plopping down in the seat at the head of the table.

  “Hey, lovebirds,” Barry said, “texting each other?”

  “Actually we’re reviewing the bug reports you suggested we make,” Kate said.

  Barry waggled his brows comically. “Let me see what you got, Kate. This oughta be good.”

  She handed over her cell. Ian groaned.

  Barry read and read and read. “Wow, Kate. A sixty-seven item list. How much is on your list, Ian?”

  “Three things,” Ian mumbled. It was like he wasn’t paying any attention these past couple of weeks.

  Barry handed back her cell and stood. “Good luck.”

  Kate worried her lower lip. Her sixty-seven item list to Ian’s three item list might lead to some hostility. His.

  She watched Barry’s retreating back as he headed to the living room. “We don’t need to do the bug report,” Kate told Ian.

  “I know it’s important to you. What’re you worried about?”

  “I don’t want you to get mad again. You came all this way.”

  Ian turned and called his brother back from the living room. Kate’s eyes widened.

  “You sure?” Barry asked, returning to the room.

  “We’d like your impartial opinion,” Ian said. “You’ll be our software engineer working out the bugs.”

  Kate beamed at Ian for being so considerate. He jerked his chin at her in a gesture that wasn’t happy, but said he was all in. Technically Barry would be their couples therapist, not an engineer. This seemed like the perfect way to ensure a positive outcome.

  Barry went to the kitchen and returned with a pen and small notepad. He took his seat at the head of the table and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Where should we begin? With Kate’s concerns or yours?”

  “Might as well start with hers,” Ian said. “She wrote a book.”

  “I’d hardly call a sixty-seven-item list a book!” Kate exclaimed, handing over her cell.

  “First rule of communication,” Barry said. “No one raises their voice. You’re both too sensitive not to take offense. Then it escalates. Then—” he glanced down at Kate’s report “—Ian uses a short circuit of some kind, which Kate has a problem with.”

  Ian dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

  “Perhaps I should’ve been more explicit,” Kate started.

  Ian lifted his head. “Kate,” he said sharply. Though she noticed he made an effort not to raise his voice.

  She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “What? You’re supposed to share everything with your engineer.”

  “Not that,” Ian bit out.

  Barry chuckled. “I think I get the picture. So it seems one of Kate’s main concerns is establishing a good communication system. I’m going to jot down a few rules for you both to follow. One, no one raises their voice. Two, no one uses a short circuit until both parties have agreed the issue is resolved. Okay?”

  “Yes,” Kate said.

  “Ian?” Barry asked.

  “Fine,” Ian grumbled. She was extra happy with him for doing this despite his grumpiness about sharing with an impartial couples therapist, err, software engineer.

  Barry wrote for a few moments and then smiled. “This is progressing nicely. Any other communication concerns?”

  “No,” Ian said.

  Kate piped up. “I would like Ian to communicate exactly what he’s willing to share in his apartment and what he won’t share. He has a territoriality issue.”

  “I do not have a territoriality issue,” Ian growled.

  “Good job keeping your voice down,” Kate said. He really was doing a nice job at that. It gave her hope that he’d take the rest of Barry’s wisdom seriously.

  “Ah, yes,” Barry said. “I did read of these territoriality incidents with great interest. Some very detailed observations you made here, Kate.”

  Kate smoothed her hair. “Thank you. I do have nice attention to detail. It’s a must as a physicist.”

  “Uh-huh,” Barry said. “And is Ian a particle that you enjoy studying?”

  She straightened. “Uh, no, of course not. He’s the male.”

  “Hmm…” Barry said.

  Ian stared at the ceiling.

  Barry tapped his pen on the paper and looked at her. She squirmed. Was he waiting for her to come up with some solution to Ian’s territoriality problem?

  “Kate,” Barry finally said, “forgetting Ian’s issue for a moment, let’s talk about you. What’s your most important material possession?”

  “My laptop,” she replied immediately.

  “And what if Ian found a sudden need to take your laptop to work with him and didn’t check with you first? What if you woke up and it was just gone?”

  She shot Ian a look. “Why would you take my laptop to work?”

  Ian slowly shook his head.

  “It’s a hypothetical situation,” Barry put in.

  “I would be livid,” Kate said. “There’s no reason for that. He has his own laptop and plenty of computers at work. There’s no reason to take my laptop with all my important work on it.”

  “So you might feel a little possessive about it?” Barry asked. “A little territorial?”

  Kate sat for a moment, stunned. She was more than a little territorial about her laptop. On the other hand, there was no question her laptop was much more valuable than shaving cream. She felt compelled to state the quantitatively obvious. “Laptops are more valuable than shaving cream.”

  “What do you think, Ian?” Barry asked.

  “It was pretty damn valuable to me that morning,” Ian said. “I had a weekend’s worth of scruff, three job applicants to interview at my new job, and no time to get more at the store.”

  “So in this special circumstance,” Kate said, realization dawning, “the shaving cream became a valuable item.”

  “Excellent observation, Kate,” Barry said. “I think it’s safe to say that anyone can become territorial over an item that is much needed at that particular moment. So let’s have a rule to ask the other person before taking their stuff, shall we?”

  “Fine by me,” Ian grumbled.

  “That would be acceptable to me as well,” Kate said. “Barry, please excuse my formal tone. This is a very emotional time for me and it’s certainly not a reflection on your excellent engineering skills.”

  “You talk however you want,” Barry said easily. He scribbled something quickly on the paper.

  Kate relaxed a little, knowing they already had three rules. That was a great start.

  “I really like having all these rules spelled out,” Kate said. “Thank you.”

  Ian studied her across the table. “You like rules, Kate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe I’ll come up with a few for you,” he drawled.

  “That would be most welcome,” Kate replied enthusiastically.

  “You’ll have to follow them,” Ian added. “Every single one.”

  “Of course,” Kate replied. She caught his hot look across the table and felt her body heating in response, nipples tingling, a throbbing pulse between her legs. Oh no. She would not be short-circuiting at this important couples therapy session. She leaned across the table. “Stop that,” she whispered fiercely.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Ian said, a sly smile crossing his expression.

  She jabbed a finger at him and was about to say stop that short-circuit business when Barry interrupted.

  “Okay, we have three very solid rules here that you’re both willing to abide by. Now, I think the idea of his and hers labels might be counterproductive and encourage more territoriality. Might I suggest for certain items, you buy two?”

  “Two milk cartons?” Kate asked.

  “Yes, one for Ian to chug directly from,” Barry said, shooting his brother a look of disgust, “and one for you to pour into a glass like
a civilized person.”

  “That works for me!” Kate said happily. “I’ll even buy a small jar of cashews. That way I can have just the nut I like and Ian can continue his random-handful-of-mixed-nuts obsession.”

  “It’s not an obsession,” Ian said.

  Kate smiled to herself. Four very clear understandable rules. She felt better already.

  Barry wrote quickly; then he set the pen down and leveled Kate with a serious look. “Kate, I fear you have a tendency to attribute traits to my brother that aren’t there.”

  Ian smacked the table. “Thank you.”

  Kate took off her glasses and cleaned them industriously with the end of her shirt. She sensed an alliance of brothers and, without her sister here, she was sort of vulnerable. “How so?”

  “Well, Ian’s probably the most mellow, laid-back guy I know,” Barry said. “Even more than me.”

  “That’s one of the things that drew me to him,” Kate said. “He made me feel relaxed.”

  “Good,” Barry said. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. So when you use words like obsessed, territorial, hostile, you can see how these labels might not exactly fit his true personality.”

  Kate shot Barry a dark look. Then she put her glasses back on and sent him a second dark look where she could actually see his expression. He looked kindly back at her. She huffed. “Those words were all warranted in those particular circumstances.”

  “Them’s fighting words, Kate,” Barry said.

  Ian grunted.

  “Another rule,” Barry announced, picking up his pen with a flourish. “No labels, no name-calling, just stick to the facts.”

  Kate’s eyes stung. This time the rule didn’t make her feel better at all. She was the problem? She was screwing up the communication? She met Ian’s eyes, and his return look was not angry or smug, but compassionate. She bit her lip.

  Ian pushed his chair back from the table. “C’mere.”

  She stood and walked around the table to him. He hauled her into his lap so her back was to his front. She shifted slightly so he could hear her. “I’m sorry I screwed up our communication,” she whispered. “I was putting it all on you. You were right, my report was biased. I wasn’t a chimp I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” Ian said, wrapping his arms around her. He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek. She relaxed against him.

  Barry smiled. “I think we’re making excellent progress. Kate, will you be short-circuiting in Ian’s lap, or can we continue?”

  She felt too good to move. “We can continue.”

  Things went smoothly after that. Within a half hour, Barry had a list of six rules for an effective relationship (the sixth rule, added in response to Ian’s complaints, her equations would remain untouched as long as she didn’t use food or anything else perishable). Kate felt so good she even came up with a fair way of dividing the domestic chores—they made a list of the chores, and she and Ian took turns picking what they would be willing to do. Ideally they’d get a cleaning service like her parents had, but they didn’t have the money for that.

  They finished and Barry ripped off the piece of paper that was the key to a happy, harmonious future and handed it to Kate. She folded it neatly and tucked it into her purse.

  “Thank you, Barry, for your patience and understanding,” Kate said.

  “Yeah, thanks, bro,” Ian said. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

  “Anything for my two favorite people,” Barry said, standing and stretching.

  Kate went over and hugged her favorite brother-in-law in the whole world. Ian gave him a one-armed man hug too.

  “I’m going to tell Violet goodnight,” Barry said and headed upstairs.

  Ian took her hand and walked with her to the living room. “You know how you said I’m the more nurturing of us two?” he asked once they were settled on the sofa.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

  She jolted. Ian was always hugging her and giving her warm looks. It took her forever to be able to initiate a hug. Then she realized she had been hugging him and their family more. “Because of the hugs?”

  “Yes, the hugs and the I love yous and expressing yourself without being overly formal. Though it sometimes slips out.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “The way you adore Violet.”

  “Well, she is adorable.”

  “Maybe we could take turns taking care of our kids. I take some time off for the first kid, you take some time off for the second kid. What do you think?”

  “Or maybe we both cut back hours and balance work shifts with kid shifts.”

  “Look how good we’re doing already. Communicating, coming up with fair solutions to issues that everyone has.”

  “It’s not just us,” she said slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with us.” She gazed up at him. “This is all normal couple stuff. We’re just a normal couple!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, my little monkey.” He leaned in for a kiss, and she slammed a hand on his chest.

  “Wait. Before you short-circuit me—”

  “The rule is short circuit allowed after issues resolved,” he rumbled near her ear.

  “I want to talk.”

  “Kiss and then talk.” When she didn’t kiss, he clenched his jaw. “Fine. What?”

  “Thank you for talking to my mom about the wedding gown.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, Dr. Lewis, this is the mother of all mother-daughter moments and it would mean a lot to Kate if you bought her a wedding gown. I also said I would pay for it if cost was an issue.”

  “And what’d she say?”

  “She said, ‘Thank you for your kind inquiry into this important occasion,’ and then she hung up.”

  Kate cringed. “So you really didn’t know if she’d do the mother-daughter thing or not.”

  “I knew she would.”

  Kate’s brows scrunched together. “How did you know?”

  “Because she got the formal tone you get when you’re nervous or worked up about something. I knew it must mean something to her.”

  “She always sounds like that!”

  His warm brown eyes gazed lovingly into hers, his mouth curving into a grin. “Give me some credit for understanding the way of the Lewis women.”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him all over his face, and then she kissed his smiling mouth. He deepened the kiss, and she short-circuited, her mind shutting down, her body heating up. Everything would surely be smooth sailing from here on out. What could go wrong?

  Chapter Fifteen

  6 Rules for Ian-Kate Relationship

  1. No one raises their voice.

  2. No short circuit until both parties agree the issue is resolved.

  3. Ask the other person before taking their stuff.

  4. Keep >=2 items in stock of milk, nuts, and shaving cream.

  5. No labels or name-calling, stick to the facts.

  6. Equations allowed only on nonperishable items.

  Ian was a little tense. Okay, a lot. But he wanted to prove he could do this rule-following thing that was so important to Kate. The rules were posted everywhere—above the toilet (clearly meant for those of us who stood to pee), on the bedroom door, on both of their nightstands, on the refrigerator, on the coffee table, and on the inside of the front door. He’d memorized them after the first day. Now, four days later, the rules just taunted him with their solid perfection. They hadn’t fought once. They hadn’t spontaneously made love once either because, of course, he had to check in if the issue was resolved before he could short-circuit her, which was his favorite thing to do, and by the time Kate ran down every possible path that would lead to an equitable solution to whatever the hell they had an “issue” about, he was nearly catatonic from her long-winded discussion and didn’t have the energy.

  Everything was perfectly harmonious, which should have been r
elaxing, but instead made him irritable. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs I hate rules! Though he really wasn’t that much of a rebel. He just liked things to be easy, sort of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Okay, yes, he’d been sneaking cashews from her special jar just to mess with her head. She kept puzzling over the nut level, wondering if she’d eaten more than she’d realized. And he hadn’t said one word about her drinking from his supposedly unhygienic carton of milk instead of hers. That little victory made him happy.

  He was a terrible person.

  He looked across the kitchen table at Kate eating the dinner he’d prepared. Her expression was dreamy. Not from his cooking. She was thinking, looking off in the distance, instead of appreciating all his hard work. They’d followed the equitable division of chores list, which meant he’d cooked dinner all week. Mostly heating up frozen meals from the supermarket, like tonight’s dish of lasagna, but he had boiled spaghetti all on his own and he always prepared a side dish of vegetables. And did Kate give one word of appreciation for all his effort in the kitchen? No. He’d washed and chopped and sautéed that broccoli. Did she even notice? No. She ate every meal like it was a necessary chore, excused herself, leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink (her chore), and took a long walk.

  Sure, she put the dishes in the dishwasher later, and, by the way, she put everything in there, even stuff that had to be scrubbed by hand, which he later had to do, but…hell, dishes aside, if someone took the time to prepare a nice meal, then the other someone should mention if it was good or something.

  She blinked and searched frantically for something to write with.

  “Use the whiteboard on the fridge,” he said before she could start writing with the lasagna sauce on the table. He’d bought the whiteboard special for her.

  She leaped up and wrote something incomprehensible on the whiteboard with a lot of mathematical symbols. Then she returned to the table, standing to finish her glass of milk. Poured from his carton. Muah-haha.

  “Did you like dinner?” he asked.

  “Excellent, as always,” she replied. “Thank you.”

  Now why didn’t that make him feel better? He was so damn cranky ever since the rules had been posted.

  She wiped her milk mustache with a napkin. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”