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Lisa Wells - Dib

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by Lisa Wells


  He just hoped it wasn’t going to be a big deal to her when they called it quits. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was tired of the tears and woeful goodbyes when relationships ended.

  He was always upfront with women about his limits. Permanent, marriage, commitment—those were all words he told them were not in his vocabulary. Women could call him a lot of things, but he never strung any of them along.

  “I need to break things off with Alice,” he said.

  Casp looked slightly surprised. “Already. It’s only been a month with this one. You usually keep them around for a couple of months. Is she talking aisle walking?”

  Casp had hit the nail on the head. “Yes. I want a woman I can rely on to tell me the truth. One I can trust when they say they’re not interested in marriage. Does that creature even exist?”

  Casp didn’t reply right away. He walked over to a mirror and combed his hair. He eventually looked over his shoulder at Covey. “You should date divorcees; they usually mean it. But, the virgin-aisle walkers, nope, they’ve got marriage in the back of their minds, no matter how much they deny it.”

  “I think you’re right. It’s like God programmed them with a wedding virus.”

  Casp strolled back over to Covey and clapped him on the back. “Problem with women is—you can’t live with them, you can’t live without them—so you’ve got to put up with them.” He said the words as if he were the first person to ever voice the old saying.

  Covey stepped back from the curtain. “I need some help. I’ve got a hot brunette I need you to take off my hands tonight. Can you get my back on this one?”

  Casp gave him a calculating look. “Overbooked did you. What’s in it for me?”

  It was a fair question coming from most men. Not Casp. He was having a rough spell in the female department. An unfortunate break-up technique on his part recently landed him on some pretty nasty lists.

  “Do you really think you’re in a position to ask for more than a give-me date?” Covey inquired with raised eyebrows. Casp should be happy to have any possibilities pointed his way.

  Colton glared their way. “Shush,” he hissed.

  Covey and Casp acknowledged his request, and then ignored it.

  Colton was the appropriate one of the three. The one who actually used the manners he’d learned from their grandmother during all those Sunday afternoon formal lunches with coats and ties. Colton was a pain in the ass, stuffed shirt.

  Casp was the partier of the three. Covey was the heart breaker.

  “Oh, that’s about to blow over,” Casp assured Covey.

  There wasn’t enough time for Covey to debate the point. He took a direct approach to getting a yes out of his brother. “She has a friend with a pair of tits that won’t stop. I’ll set you two up later on down the road,” he told Casp.

  Covey didn’t normally refer to a woman’s body in such a frat-boy style. But, it was a language Casp understood. One he normally bought into very quickly.

  Not today. Today, he looked out into the audience with a far away expression. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.

  Covey sighed. Alice and Sally were chatting. What could they possibly have in common? Besides him.

  Part of him was sad to end his relationship with Alice. He hated ending relationships. She caught his eye, gave him a curt nod followed by a full-lip pout. On the other hand, the woman was a bitch, she’d handle it.

  Casp gave Covey a wily look. “Big tits aren’t good enough. I want a favor in exchange.”

  Covey turned his attention back to Casp and the subject at hand. “Since when are boobs not a good payoff. I’ve done the same for you with less of a payoff.”

  “Yeah, and you went to bed with her and stole her from me.”

  They were talking about a high school cheerleader. “I told you, she was all over me. You didn’t need that kind of gal in your life.”

  “And you did?” Casp asked, clearly irritated all over again at the memory of his brother taking his girl back in tenth grade.

  Covey shrugged. He couldn’t tell Casp the real reason behind his relationship with her. She promised to teach him about sex. Tenth grade and still a virgin, he was ready to learn. “What is it you want?” he asked his brother.

  “I’m supposed to be on a game show next weekend. Take my place on the show; and I’ll take yours on your date.”

  “What kind of game show?” Covey asked. At one time, he could hold his own with Casp, but not anymore. One or two women at a time were enough for him. Casp stilled juggled a half-dozen at once. Colton was the only one of them who stuck to a single woman at a time.

  “A dating show,” Casp answered.

  Covey laughed. “Forget it. I don’t need help getting a date.” Game show, dating show. There was a difference. “Is that how you’ve been restocking your supply now that the word is out all over the internet that you’re a jerk?”

  Casp’s name had hit the Don’t Date This Man Blog three months ago. At first, it was funny. But when women started turning him down because they’d seen his name listed there, it wasn’t funny anymore.

  Casp shrugged and leaned against a stage prop. “Suit yourself. Tell Alice you have plans. She’s a big girl.”

  Covey knew he was bluffing. He wouldn’t pass on female company. “Why don’t you want to do the show? You love that stuff?” Covey questioned him.

  The host walked onto the stage. “Audience, today’s guests on the ToSay Show are sexy, they’re triplets, and they were born and raised right here in our home state of Texas. Of course, y’all know who I’m speaking of; today we have the three James’ brothers and their beautiful grandmother. Let’s give them a hand and get them out here on stage.”

  “I have a gig. Playgirl spread,” Casp whispered, before taking a step toward the stage curtain.

  Covey glanced at his grandmother. She was frowning toward him and Casp. She wasn’t big on whispering. She would be even less thrilled to know one of her grandsons was going to do a spread in Playgirl.

  “Fine. I’ll do it,” Covey whispered. He knew better than to ask Colton for help. The man was into intellect and meaningful conversation in his women. The woman he dated could be totally flat-breasted, and Colton would think she was great as long as she was smart.

  Today was their thirtieth birthday. A day designated as inheritance day by a court decision twenty-years ago. When the, ToSay Show contacted them asking for an exclusive interview, they’d accepted because their grandmother asked them to. She wanted the world to know she’d kept her promise.

  She was to be the central focus of the interview. Their job was to sit and answer the questions at the end.

  “Mrs. James, twenty-years ago, when your son and his wife died, you fought for custody of your three grandsons. Why did you have to fight for the right to raise them?” asked the male reporter.

  The interviewer was too young to remember the media circus surrounding the court battle. Covey wasn’t. He remembered all too clearly the months following the death of his parents. His mother died in a drowning accident. His father died less than a month later. His chute didn’t open when he jumped out of the plane. There’d been a lot of tabloid speculation that he committed suicide because he couldn’t bear to go on without his wife.

  Covey glanced protectively at his grandmother. She sat stiff backed in the regal pose of a southern belle. A pose Covey had seen her use many times to handle the media. There had been a lot of media the first few years after their parents died. She’d grieved privately the loss of her son and daughter-in-law. The boys could hear her at night crying in her bedroom. As a result, they learned at an early age that love hurts. They vowed to love no one but each other and their grandmother.

  “The court wanted to split my boys up. I wouldn’t allow it. They deserved to be raised together as a family,” she replied.

  The journalist nodded his head. “Why did the court fight you on your request for custody?”

  Mrs. James fixed him with a
puckered brow. “My age was an issue. There were those who thought I was too old to successfully raise three rambunctious boys.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” Mrs. James said with a delicate sigh. “The boys were due to inherit a lot of money. Their distant relatives wanted a share of the money.”

  “How did you manage to win custody? After all, you were in retirement, weren’t you?”

  “I offered to put the boy’s money in a trust fund they couldn’t touch until they turned thirty. I swore I would raise them on my income. The court realized I was offering my grandson’s my love. Much like the bible story of the babe claimed by two mothers. The mother who was willing to give up her child instead of losing half of him was the one who was given the babe.”

  “So, you used a bible story to win your boys?”

  “I used the strategy of the woman in the bible story. It worked like a charm. Just like I told my lawyer it would.”

  “Are you saying you were after the money and tricked the courts into giving you custody?”

  Covey, Casp, and Colton all jumped to their feet ready to defend the honor of their grandmother. How dare the idiot make such an accusation?

  Their grandmother chuckled. “Sit down boys. I don’t need you to defend me against this pup.” She looked at the interviewer and frowned. “My grandsons are my world. I would have done whatever it took to keep them and raise them. Placing their money in trust funds was nothing compared to the lengths I was prepared to go to in order to keep them together and under my roof.”

  The interviewer looked at the boys and then at her. “How would you describe your income twenty years ago?”

  “It was modest. I was a retired school teacher.”

  “But, wasn’t your father very wealthy? Didn’t you inherit when he died?”

  “He left all of his money to the Humane Society. The boys and I obviously couldn’t survive on my retirement. So, I continued drawing my teacher retirement and went back to work as a substitute to raise them.”

  “Why did your father leave all of his money to the Humane Society?”

  “That is none of your business, young man.”

  “Okay. Did you touch any of your grandson’s inheritance to help raise them? Money for essentials?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think that was fair to them? I’m sure there were things they had to do without on your income. Things they would have been given if their parents were alive.”

  “They had love, and they had each other. That was more than money could buy. That was how my son was raised. He did okay. He made his fortune. It wasn’t handed to him by his dad. Now, my grandsons have made their own way in life. Colton is a journalist, Covey’s a successful entertainer, and Casp is a much sought after model. If they had money handed to them when they were ten, they might never have found their own way in life.”

  “So, you gave up at least fifteen years of retirement for them. Do you have any regrets?”

  “Absolutely not. I would do it all over again.”

  “Mrs. James, I know this is a sensitive subject, but the tabloids have reported you have breast cancer. Is it true?”

  Covey, Casp, and Colton all jumped up, and Covey’s chair fell over. “That is none of your business. We didn’t come on this show to talk about health issues,” he said, before bending over and picking up his chair.

  Their grandmother raised her eyebrows delicately, and a small smile played at the corners of her lips. “Boys, behave. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.” She turned her attention to the reporter. “Yes. It’s true. My days are numbered.”

  Covey looked at her in astonishment. She answered the question. She told the world what she’d just told them this week. Why? Why would she go public with her cancer? She was a private woman. She didn’t share easily. He sat down and looked at his brothers for answers. They shrugged.

  “Do you have any goals to accomplish in the short time you have left?” the reporter asked.

  Goals? What kind of damn question is that? Grandmother’s going to tell him to move on to another line of questioning.

  “I want what every grandmother wants. I want to live to see my grandson’s happily married. I had a long and happy marriage. I can think of nothing greater than to see such for my grandsons. I want head-over-heels, can’t live without you, love for them, like their parents had.”

  Covey, Colton, and Casp all sat up straight. Covey’s stomach lurched.

  His grandmother sat with a demure smile on her face and refused to look at them.

  Covey felt sweat roll down his back. Who can say no to a last public wish? She had them over a barrel. The cancer must be affecting her brain. Was it possible for breast cancer to spread to the brain that quickly? The grandmother he knew would never pressure them into something they didn’t want to do. How could they possibly grant her this final wish?

  God, his grandmother was asking the impossible. Last wishes were serious business. How do you tell the woman who sacrificed everything for you, that you won’t try to honor her last wish and start looking for the woman of your dreams? How do you tell the public you’re not going to honor her wish and at least try to make it come true? You can’t. It was as simple as that. Panic, like he’d never known, welled inside Covey’s throat. Fear, worse than the first time he took the stage in front of a sold-out crowd, swept through him.

  His grandmother had cancer because of him and his brothers. For over fifteen years, she’d spent all of her energy on them and didn’t take the time, or the money, to care for herself. She didn’t get her yearly mammograms. Exams, which would have caught the cancer when it was still curable. He felt as if his breath was cut off. They owed her.

  Covey looked at his brothers. Shocked faces looked back at him. He didn’t have to hear them say the words. They were triplets. It was time for all of them to go out on a search for wives. The one thing the three of them swore they’d always avoid was now unavoidable. How had it happen? As young boys, they’d developed a fool-proof, risk-management plan. The day after they buried their dad, they made a pact never to love another soul but each other and their grandmother.

  “Are any of them engaged?” the reporter ask.

  The three men squirmed in their seats. Covey wasn’t against marriage. Especially for others. In fact, there was a part of him that longed for a happy, long-lasting relationship. His parents had been so happy and in love. He just suffered from a phobia to commitment. Not really commitment, to painful loss.

  “No. Unfortunately, none of them have found the woman of their dreams. But, I’ve seen the future for Covey. I see love right around the corner for him.” His grandmother looked his way and winked.

  Covey gulped and tried to smile back at her.

  The members of the audience began murmuring, and the reporter leaned forward. “That’s right. You are something of a psychic. So, you’re telling us you’ve seen the future for Covey James?”

  “Yes. That’s what I said. Now, I’m not saying anything else. It’s none of your business.”

  The reporter looked into the camera. “Audience, the three bachelors in front of you have each just came into a very large fortune. It sounds like they may be looking for wives. What questions do you have?”

  ****

  Two hours later, the men sat in Covey’s living room.

  “I say we fake it,” Colton suggested.

  Covey’s mouth fell open, and he stared at his brother.

  “What?” Colton asked him defensively.

  “We can’t fake love. Grandmother won’t fall for it?” What had gotten into Colton? He was the sensible one. His role in the James’ family was to be the voice of sensibility.

  Colton shrugged. “Sure we can fake love? We’ll hire women to play the part of our wives until Grandmother dies. It’s the only answer. We can’t really get married. We agreed. We’re all staying single. It’s the only way to avoid loss.”

  Covey wanted to agree wi
th his suggestion. He wanted to find a fake wife, make his grandmother happy and then dump the fake wife. But, the honorable part of him wouldn’t allow him to lie to his grandmother. She was too good for that. She’d raised them. Sacrificed for them. He wouldn’t lie to get around making her final wish come true. “It’s her dying wish. We can’t tell her no.”

  “You’re not really considering marriage are you?” Colton asked.

  “I don’t want to get married any more than either of you do. But, we can’t fake it. Grandmother will do the ring test on any woman we bring home.”

  Both of his brothers groaned. The ring test was her specialty. She predicted the stability of an upcoming marriage with a ring passed down to her for four-generations. Its original owner was a witch who was burned at the stake. She threw the ring to her granddaughter right before they set her aflame. If the ring swung side to side, your marriage wasn’t meant to be. If it swung front to back, you were truly in love with one another. If it went in circles, the girl was knocked up and Grandmother would whack you with her walking stick.

  Casp sighed. “You’re right. God, we’ve got to really look for true love.”

  “I’m not looking for true love,” Colton said firmly. “I’ll find a fake wife, but I’m not looking for true love. I refuse to do that.”

  Covey wanted to echo Colton’s sentiment. He couldn’t. Avoiding love to avoid pain was a pact made when they were barely eleven. It was a childish solution to a complicated emotion. He’d known this for a while, but had refused to look too closely at the issue.

  Casp punched Covey in the arm. “Well, I know the first place you’re going to be looking?”

  Covey gave him a blank look. What was he talking about? “You do? Where?”

  “The Dibs Dating Show,” Casp said.

  Covey closed his eyes. He’d forgotten their deal. “How in the hell did you get on a dating show?” he asked, while massaging the knot in his neck.

  Casp chuckled. “It sounded like fun. A weekend of sex with a desperate woman.”

  Covey had too many things on his mind to go on a dating show. He needed to sort out some things. “I’ve changed my mind. You go,” Covey said.

 

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