by Melinda Minx
“Okay,” she says. “Fine! Sleep on the couch then.”
“Yeah, I said I would. So I’m doing that!”
She stomps up the stairs. That woman sure loves to stomp, she must have gotten a townhouse just so she could angrily stomp up the stairs. I shake my head in disbelief.
Whatever she’s hiding, if she’d just tell me now, I wouldn’t even be mad. Shit, I probably won’t even be mad for too long once I find out what it is. Maybe she’s even making some misguided effort to protect me from something? Maybe her parents don’t want me there, and she’s too afraid to tell me?
No real reason to get angry unless there’s something actually worth being angry about, so I’ll just go to sleep and wait to see what happens tomorrow.
As we enter Berkeley, Andrea is biting her fingernails nonstop.
“I didn’t know you were a nail biter.”
“I’m not,” she says, putting her hands on her lap.
“Okay then.”
As soon as I look away, her nails are right back up against her teeth.
We drive into a nice neighborhood, and she tells me to turn left.
“Stop here,” she says.
There’s what I would consider a big house in front of us. It would be worth a shitload of money today, but if they bought it back when they were first married, it was probably affordable.
“Here we are,” she says.
I go to open the door, but she grabs my wrist. “Wait.”
Here it comes.
“Wait for what?” I ask, pretending like I’m surprised.
“So your SEAL training...you are really good at improvising and adapting and all of that, even if it’s not a combat situation, right?”
“Sure, yeah, why?”
“So, uh,” she says. “I didn’t actually tell them about you yet.”
Ah. That makes sense. I should have seen that one coming earlier. She was too afraid to tell them.
I laugh.
“You’re not mad?”
“Shit, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m mad.”
“If you had done the same thing to me...I’d have been mad at you.”
“Well,” I say, “you’re a civilian.”
“I’m sorry, Coal! I’m, uh, I’ll go tell them now. You wait in the truck.”
“No way. At this point, telling them while I wait in the truck just makes us both look worse. We walk right up there hand in hand, alright? I’ll take charge.”
“It’s my parents, though, so shouldn’t I take charge?”
“You already tried to take charge, and you didn’t. So I’m in charge now, alright?”
She nods. “Alright.”
“What do I call them?” I ask. “Mom and Dad?”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “God, no. Just use their first names, Cynthia and Roger.”
“Alright,” I say. “So Cynthia is your mom, and Roger is your—”
“Yes, of course!”
“Just making sure,” I say, grinning.
I was hoping some humor would calm her nerves, but apparently nothing is going to calm her down at this point. Time to rip off the Band-Aid.
“Come on,” I say, stepping out of the truck.
I open the door for her and take her hand.
“What about our stuff?”
“Let’s just go introduce the...situation...before we haul our stuff up there.”
They may decide I’m not staying there with them. Bringing all my stuff packed up will look presumptuous as hell.
I take Andrea by the hand and march us from the driveway to the front door. I said I’m taking charge here, and I will.
I ring the doorbell and wait.
The door opens, and two nice looking older people meet us with surprised expressions.
Cynthia, Andrea’s mom, is doing one of those big fake smiles that may as well be a frown.
Roger is just giving me a big, old-fashioned frown. There are deep lines cutting into his face as he frowns for all he’s worth.
I hold my hand out toward Roger. “I’m Coal, Andrea’s husband.”
Now Cynthia frowns, too.
“I was going to tell you!” Andrea shouts out.
Roger crosses his arms, not taking my hand. “This is a joke.”
“How long…” Cynthia says, her eyes bulging at my tattoos.
“Just a few days,” I say. “We met in Vegas—”
“Jesus,” Cynthia says. “Really, Andrea?”
“It’s not how it sounds,” I say. “Well, it’s close to how it sounds, but not quite.”
Roger laughs and waves his hand. “Come inside then and tell us.”
He directs us into the living room and has me sit down by myself on a recliner. He’s isolating me from my squad—a good tactic.
“So how is it not some crazy Vegas mistake?” Roger asks. “Can’t you get those annulled?”
“We met at a restaurant,” I say. “And it’s not like you think…neither of us was drinking that first night.”
Both parents roll their eyes. Now I know where Andrea got it from.
“The first night we spent together,” I continue, “we were both stone-cold sober the whole time, and I gotta’ tell you two, I’d never met anyone like her. After we said good night, and after Andrea went back to her own hotel room, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I’d been with—uh—some other women before, but I’d never met someone like this. And I think Andrea felt the same way about me.”
Andrea nods and smiles.
I don’t like the idea of lying to her parents. I’ll come totally clean with them after the legal issues are all settled. I’m trying to keep the story as close to the truth as possible. We did meet one night while sober, and she really was unlike any other women I’d met.
“So then you guys just decided to get married on a whim? If things were that good after one day, they could easily change,” Cynthia says.
“Right,” I say. “So we met up the next day, and I’m ashamed to admit, but we did not stay stone-cold sober on the second day. I guess we got too into the whole Vegas thing...and when we woke up, we were married.”
“So you annul it,” Cynthia says.
“Cynthia,” I say, turning my charm up to eleven. “Here’s the thing. You’d think we’d both feel a huge sense of regret, but we felt happy. We still feel happy.”
Roger cuts in. “You look like you’re military, Coal. Since when was a military man all about feelings?”
“Ever since I met your daughter, sir. We can still get an annulment in Nevada, but we decided to give this thing a shot. What if we decide we want to stay married? If we’re not one hundred percent convinced we’re right for each other after a month, we’re getting an annulment.”
“And if you stay married?” Cynthia asks.
“If we stay married,” I say, “then we’re doing it all the right way. We’re going to have a big ceremony and invite all of our family and friends.”
“You guys want to go get your stuff from Coal’s truck?” Roger asks, standing up. “Let me help you bring it in.”
“Are they both staying in Andrea’s room?” Cynthia asks.
“Yeah,” Roger says. “Of course they are.”
Andrea gives me a relieved look, and I stand up and grin at her. Her parents were basically pushovers. It could have been a lot harder than that.
We go out to the truck and start getting all the luggage.
“You pack light,” Roger says, pointing to my satchel.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “At least compared to Andrea.”
Roger laughs, and Andrea shoots me a dirty look.
We haul the stuff up the stairs into Andrea’s room. It looks more like a guest room than “Andrea’s room.” She must have moved out over five years ago; I wouldn’t expect them to keep it looking like it used to.
There’s only one bed, though. I lick my lips at that. I’m not sleeping on the floor, not after saving her ass from that whole fiasco.
“We’ll give you guys some time to unpack,” Roger says. “I’ll let you know when Damian and Rita arrive so you can come down and see them.”
“Should we call them up and let them know about…” Cynthia looks at me, then back up at Roger.
“We could,” Roger says. “Or just let them be surprised, no real difference at this point.”
“I’m going to text them,” Cynthia says. “By the way, Rita just got her real estate license, so be sure to congratulate her on it.”
“Sorry for all the trouble,” I say, giving them my warmest smile. “I know this is a big shock, but I’m really looking forward to having you two as guests at our wedding.”
Roger gives me hard eyes. “I’m pretending you two are dating. You will get that annulment if there is any doubt about this whole thing. Is that clear?”
When they are finally gone, Andrea grabs hold of me, squeezes me, and buries her head into my chest. “You are so good at this.”
“Don’t forget this the next time you get mad at me,” I say, stroking her hair. “In fact, the next five or so times you decide to get mad at me, just remember this and then don’t get mad at me.”
“Five times is a lot,” she says.
15
Andrea
“Damien’s here!” Mom shouts from downstairs.
“What’s his wife’s name again?” Coal asks.
“I never told you. It’s Rose.”
We go downstairs together, and when Mom looks at me, she doesn’t seem super angry anymore. I expected both of them to be mad at me for at least a week, but Coal really seems to have said all the right things in just the right way.
“Where’s Damian?” I ask.
“I spotted his car pulling up,” Mom says.
Then the door opens, and Damian comes in.
Mom and Dad give him a hug, and then he reaches over and hugs me.
He looks up at Coal and raises an eyebrow. “You’re the boyfriend?”
Coal reaches his hand out and shakes Damian’s extended palm. “Coal. The husband.”
Damian laughs, but doesn’t say anything more. He just gives me a look that says it all.
“Where’s Rose?” Dad asks.
“She’s not coming.”
“Oh?” Mom says. “Did she have to work...or?”
“I think we’re getting divorced,” Damian says. “I guess it all balances out then? Your son loses his wife, but your daughter gets married.”
“That’s rough,” Coal says. “You want a beer, man? I got—”
“You think just because I lost my wife, I want to drink?” Damian says, staring Coal down.
Coal opens his mouth to speak, smiles, and says, “IPA, cider, black and tan—”
Damian hits him on the shoulder, laughing, and says, “IPA. And yeah, I definitely want to drink, man.”
When they are both gone, I see my parents give each other worried looks.
I laugh nervously and say, “I wonder what Rita is going to spring on us.”
“She’s the only one that actually told us ahead of time,” Mom says.
“Told you what? Is she married, too?”
“No,” Dad says, rolling his eyes. “She’s dating some guy, and bringing him with her.”
“Oh,” I say. “She’s finally dating someone.”
I sit down and make small talk with my parents while they watch their DVR-ed police procedurals. I hear Coal and Damian talking in low voices from the kitchen, and I’m tempted to go join them, but I’d prefer that Damian and Coal have a chance to get to know each other without me in their way.
“The tree and everything looks great, guys,” I say, forcing a huge smile.
My parents just nod. They are still mad at me.
I hear the front door opening after thirty minutes or so, and Dad says, “Must be Rita.”
“I’ll go help them with their stuff,” I say, springing up from the couch.
I run over to the front door, excited to see my sister—but more excited to see who she’s dating.
And then I see Aiden Alderson. Aiden as in my ex-boyfriend Aiden. He’s standing in the foyer with my sister’s suitcase in his hand.
He’s tall and looks just as good as he did when I last saw him two years ago. Then I remember how he dumped me, and suddenly he doesn’t look quite so good.
“Wh—wh—what are you doing here?” is all I’m able to say.
His mouth drops open, and he looks back outside through the front door in my sister’s direction, then back at me. “Rita said she’d told you.”
“Aiden?” It’s my father’s voice now. “What are you—Oh, you’re Rita’s new boyfriend?”
Jesus. No wonder she didn’t tell me. Being too big of a coward to break difficult news to people must be a dominant genetic trait in our family.
Since I did basically the same thing to my parents, I shouldn’t get mad at Rita for doing it to me.
But then I see her walk in with a sheepish grin on her face, and I get really fucking mad.
“Really, Rita? Really?”
Aiden puts down the suitcase. “I’m going to go make sure we got everything.”
He escapes out the door.
“Andrea, I was going to tell you, but—”
“You can’t really get mad at her for this,” Mom says. “Can you, Andrea?”
Rita looks down. “I can understand if she gets mad, Mom.”
Mom laughs. “So Andrea told you about her husband then?”
Rita’s eyes bulge.
“My husband isn’t your ex-boyfriend, idiot!”
“You’re married? What the hell?” Rita says. “When did you get married? You didn’t even invite me to the wedding?”
“Why would I invite you to the wedding if you’re dating my ex!”
I look up and see Coal and Damien staring at us with confused looks on their faces and beers in their hands.
“Sister is dating your ex?” Coal says. “Good thing you’re happily married now, otherwise you might feel jealous.”
He gives me an insanely frustrating, smug-as-hell grin, and Damien laughs.
Then Aiden walks back inside. “Everyone cooled off—?”
He looks up at Coal.
Coal reaches his hand out toward Aiden. They shake.
“I’m Coal. Andrea’s husband.”
He doesn’t sound aggressive about it, but the way he says “Andrea’s husband” is assertive, like he’s staking a claim on me.
“Oh,” Aiden says. “Nice to meet you...I didn’t realize Andrea was married.”
“No one did,” Rita says.
Coal laughs. “I’ve got to say, Andrea, I really like your family. Not one of you is boring.”
Aiden is forcing a smile, but I can see him looking at me with anger. I don’t know what that means—when he dumped me it was out of nowhere, and he wouldn’t even respond to me when I tried to talk to him about it.
I’d long ago put it all behind me, but here he is again, dating my sister and living under the same roof as me for a month.
Just great.
“You want a beer, Aiden?” Damien asks.
“Uh,” Aiden says. “Thanks, but I need to go unpack.”
“You want a beer, Andrea?” Coal says, smiling.
“Sure.”
I sit down outside with Damien and Coal. Coal pops open a cider for me.
“That bitch!” I say, slamming my hand on the table.
“So I guess you are jealous?” Coal says. “You shouldn’t be. I mean, the guy is in shape, but I could take him.”
“Idiot,” I say, chugging the cider. “I’m not jealous, but I’m pissed off at my sister for backstabbing me.”
Damien leans back in his wicker chair. “If you don’t give a shit about this Aiden guy, then how did Rita backstab you? I don’t get it.”
“Oh, come on, Damien. Like, if our cousin Jake came to Thanksgiving with…”
I bite my lip. I was going to say—
“You were going
to say with Rose,” Damien says. “I’m not over her, so yeah, that would suck. What’s Aiden to you now, though? You’re married. Aiden is what, some college fling?”
He wasn’t just a fling. He was my first serious relationship. I thought I was going to marry him, have kids with him, the whole thing.
“This is what Christmas is all about,” Coal says, grinning.
“What?” I ask. “A bunch of fucked-up family problems?”
“Yep,” Coal says.
“But we can, like, heal them through the magic spirit of Christmas?”
“It never worked that way in my family,” Coal says, “but your family is way less fucked-up than mine. I bet by the time Christmas day rolls around, everything will be fine.”
I don’t make Coal sleep on the floor, but I’m too upset at Rita to even consider doing anything in bed but sleep.
Maybe if Aiden and I had broken up rather than him dumping me with all contact cut off afterward, then maybe I wouldn’t be so upset. I’m too mad at Rita right now to be thinking in these terms, but what if Aiden does the same thing to her?
“Go to sleep,” Coal says.
“I was asleep, you just woke me up.”
“You weren’t asleep,” Coal says. “When you first fall asleep, you grind your teeth. Besides, I can hear your brain gears grinding.”
“You can’t hear that.”
“A SEAL can hear a lot of things that a civilian can’t.”
“Okay, Coal, I’m going to sleep now. Good night.”
“Good night.”
16
Coal
I wake up before the sun rises. With all the people in the house, I expect that someone else will be up by now, but when I wander down into the kitchen, it’s all dark. I’m the first one up.
I guess I get to make breakfast like I said I would.
I decide to make French toast, since there’s some old bread on the counter and plenty of eggs and milk in the fridge.
I gather all the ingredients, all the while trying to stay relatively quiet.
The sun starts coming up when I drop the first pieces of egg-dipped bread into the sizzling pan. The smell makes me hungry as hell, and I look around for some syrup while the toast cooks.
The only thing I’m able to find is corn syrup disguised as maple syrup. Damn, I’ll have to go to the store later today and get some proper ingredients.