The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2)

by Aksel, Amanda

  She turned her head as if in thought. “Hmm . . . Faith, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  She thanked me for the advice and scheduled her next appointment. It was a good reminder for me too. Things may not have panned out the way I imagined them, but with a little faith they just might.

  After she left, I made a few notes and checked my voicemail—message from Ginger.

  “Hey, Marin, it’s Ginger. I was just finishing the final invite list for my wedding, and somehow your address didn’t save in my phone. I don’t have your cell, so it’s a good thing I remembered where you work. It’s so cool that you’re a therapist. Anyway, give me a call as soon as you can.” I dialed her on my cell as she rattled off her phone number. Just as I was hanging up from the voicemail, I heard her wish me an incredible day.

  “Ginger, it’s Marin,” I said when she picked up the line.

  “Hey, girl! It was so great to see you the other night. What are you up to?”

  “I was just about to head to lunch.”

  “Where are you going? Can I meet you there?” she asked.

  “Sure . . .” I said. I really liked Ginger and all, but I had the feeling she thought we were going to be besties.

  Twenty minutes later, we met at the bistro around the corner from my office. Sick of the salads I had eaten all weekend, I ordered my usual panini with lots of mozzarella cheese. Ginger, on the other hand, ordered a vegan kale salad.

  “So, did you two find a place?” she asked.

  “Not yet, nothing seemed to fit. We’re still looking,” I said with an uncontrollable frown.

  “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others,” her voice lowered, “but I think I can help you with your problem.”

  “What problem?”

  She shot me a patronizing look.

  I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Getting James to marry you,” she said.

  “Who told you about that?”

  “You did at the bar. Don’t you remember?”

  I shook my head earnestly. What did I say that night?

  “You told me all about your birthday and expecting the ring. You said you didn’t know how much longer you could wait. I know you were drunk, but you really don’t remember any of the conversation?”

  I continued to shake my head, horrified, but not surprised. It wasn’t unusual to spill my guts after one too many drinks. I really shouldn’t drink like that anymore. “Anyway, I was once in your shoes, you know, with Jon.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, but then I found this,” she said and handed me a purple book with a silhouette hand wearing a glistening diamond on the cover. The title read How To Get a Ring on It: Get Him Down on One Knee in 90 Days or Less by Charlotte McQueen. The paperback book had frayed edges and creases down the spine so deep the title was barely visible.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “This is how I got Jon to propose in two and a half months after years of refusing to settle down.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Completely,” she said.

  It was as if I’d been sitting miserably on the couch, flipping the channels until I found that one infomercial with the one solution I was looking for. I didn’t know if the book was a cure-all, but I was definitely intrigued by the possibility.

  “So what, this book has the secrets to a proposal?”

  “Yeah, it talks about what men really want in a wife and how to portray those qualities. You get what you want and he gets what he wants.”

  “It sounds a little manipulative.”

  “That depends on your perspective. You could say couples therapy is manipulative.”

  “How so?” I furrowed my brow.

  “You take these couples and get them to try all these things they don’t want to do so that in the end they can see how much they love each other and it’s really about growing as a selfless human being.”

  “I dunno, Ginger. I feel weird about playing games with James.” Especially considering what happened the last time I found a book that I thought had all the answers. I burned all my copies of Unspoken: The Secret Lives of Men when James and I got back together.

  “You want to get married, right?” She pursed her lips.

  “Yes.”

  “You want to have children soon, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You believe that James and you will be happy together as a family, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then this isn’t a game. This is your life. Look, you can go down the road you’re on and hope and pray for a proposal, meanwhile growing more and more resentful everyday, or you can read this book and get it done.” She pounded the table in unison with the last three syllables. “And, since I’ve already done this, I can help you. Make sure you don’t make some of the same mistakes I did. I bet we can turn that frown upside down in six weeks.” Ginger spoke with such conviction that I wanted to follow her lead.

  “You really think so?” I stared at the book for a moment, wondering if its insights would lead me astray like Unspoken: The Secret Lives of Men.

  “I know so. You just gotta have a little faith,” she said, sitting up straight.

  A little faith, huh? “I guess there’s no harm in reading it.”

  “Yes! That’s incredible!” She clapped like a giddy cheerleader then quickly quieted and leaned in. “One thing, don’t let James see this book. That’s very important. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Are you wearing Ballerina Shimmer?” she asked.

  I puckered my lips and struck a pose. “I knew it would look great on you.”

  After lunch, I stuffed How To Get a Ring on It deep inside my oversized purse. When I got back to the office, I shut the book in my middle drawer. No one ever checked the middle drawer.

  Just as I was preparing to leave for the day, I got a call from James.

  “Some of the guys invited me to watch the game with them tonight, we didn’t have anything planned did we?”

  “No, but I was hoping we could watch a movie,” I said, pouting.

  “Can we watch a movie tomorrow night?” he asked.

  “We can, but it’s so cold today. Wouldn’t you rather snuggle in bed with me with a hot drink or glass of wine? Mmm, sounds good doesn’t it?”

  He chuckled. “It does, but I already told the guys—”

  James pretty much always picked me over a game or night out with his friends. The least I could do was give him the night off. I wondered what Charlotte McQueen would have to say about that. “Okay . . . go have fun with your friends. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Since I had the entire night free, I had Chinese food delivered to my office. While I waited, I opened the middle drawer and began the journey through How to Get a Ring On It. Before I could turn to the first page, my cheeks flushed and I winced. That’s when I realized that I had become one of those women who read self-help books about love. Not that I was against self-help books about love, I was a couples therapist after all and recommended them all the time. But now I was one of them. It was a hard reality to swallow.

  I tried to remind myself that at least I had found someone to love who loved me back. All I wanted now was to keep that love forever with a real commitment. With a ring and a promise. The feeling of ridiculousness didn’t subside, so I had to force myself to read. Charlotte McQueen illustrated an almost identical situation with someone she called “Tanya,” a girl that thought she had everything until she realized she had no ring. The author created a six-step process, which she dubbed the McQueen Method. All I had to do was play out the steps and wait. What was the six-step McQueen Method?

  Step One: Happy Couples- You should only socialize with happily married or engaged couples.

  Step Two: Family Matters- If his family is important to him, then you must become part of it and vice versa.

  Step Three: Play House- Whether in a separate or together livi
ng situation, you must demonstrate yourself as the ideal spouse. Showing value by assuming wifely responsibilities is key.

  Step Four: Mother Material- Men have a need to spread their seed and leave a legacy. You must allow him to see that your motherly nature and nurture are worthy of his children.

  Step Five: Sexy Getaway- No one wants a stale sex life. You must perfectly plan and execute an exotic getaway, making him believe that spontaneity and spice still exist.

  And lastly, Step Six: Break Up to Make up- He won’t truly understand what he’s got until it’s gone. Take time away from the relationship and he’ll surely come crawling back with an engagement ring.

  Aside from the last step, of which I was very wary, the steps didn’t seem so manipulative. They were actually very straightforward and generally good advice on being in a relationship. I made a few notes for some of my patients too. The trick was to overload him with these experiences in a short amount of time in order to inspire the proposal.

  I knew that in order to pull it off, I’d need to bring in some help. So I called Ginger the next day.

  “I read the book,” I told her.

  “Already? That was fast.”

  “I had a free night.”

  “So what’d you think? Did you love it? Did you hate it? Tell me everything!”

  I would if she’d stop talking for two seconds.

  “I think I want to try it, but I need your help.”

  “You got it, girl. You and James should have dinner with us on Friday night.”

  “Can’t. We have plans with our friend Andy.”

  “Is Andy single?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Then cancel and don’t make plans with him again until after the proposal, better yet, after the wedding.”

  “Is that really necessary?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. If you want this, you have to take it seriously and follow all the steps to a tee.”

  “All right, I guess I can do that, except for that last step.”

  “Break up to make up?”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, I’m not going to break up with James just so he thinks he might lose me for good.”

  “Marin, you have to. It’s the most vital step of all.”

  “I’ll do everything perfectly except that.”

  She sighed sounding disappointed. “Okay, then I can’t guarantee success. But I’ll help you,” she said.

  “Thanks, Ginger. I’ll see you Friday.”

  After my lunch break, I found Andy behind my desk on some kind of hunt.

  “Can I help you?” I asked with my hands on my hips. Andy looked up, surprised to see me.

  “I think the question is, can I help you?” Andy held up the book without blinking an eyelash.

  I stomped over and tried to snatch the book from him, but he was too quick. “What are you doing snooping in my drawers? Don’t you have any boundaries?”

  He held the book high. “Do you really want to talk to me about boundaries right now?”

  I reached for the book again, but he moved it from my grasp. With my fists clenched, I wanted to punch it away from him. Barely into my quest and already Andy had swooped in to shit on it. Well, surprise for him, I wasn’t going to let him. I was getting my ring.

  “I came in looking for a piece of gum, okay,” he said.

  “Is that why I’m always running out of my Dentyne Fire?”

  “Probably.” Andy was a lot of things, but somehow in the midst of our young friendship, I put gum thief and snoop past him.

  “Okay then, if you’re always taking my gum then you would know that I keep it in the top drawer. Why were you in the middle drawer?”

  “There wasn’t any in the top drawer. I thought you moved it somewhere else because you were on to me. But there’s a bigger issue at hand.”

  “What?” I asked.

  He gestured to the book again.

  “So what?”

  “Do you really think this book is going to help you . . . get a ring on it?” He gave a wry grin.

  Could he be anymore condescending?

  “Maybe, but it’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right. It’s kinda ironic though, don’t you think?”

  “What’s ironic?”

  “Two years ago you used a book to prove all men were unfaithful, now you’re using a book to prove that all men can commit?”

  He was right, but these were different times and they called for different measures. I wasn’t going to let Andy talk me out of it.

  “Should I clear my schedule for you next week? I have a feeling you may need to revisit treatment.”

  I snatched the book from his slimy little hands. “This is not cool, Andy, which reminds me. We can’t have drinks with you on Friday.”

  “Why? Because of the gum?”

  “No, because you’re single.”

  He pursed his mouth and narrowed his eyes. “Fine, I wouldn’t be able to look James in the face right now anyway.” He walked out of my office and when he was out of sight, I placed the book back in its rightful spot. Andy popped back in.

  “What?” I grimaced.

  “I get what you’re trying to do, and I really like James, but if he doesn’t scoop you up with a proposal, then it’s his loss, not yours. That’s all.” He walked away again then turned toward me. “I’ll buy you ten new packs of gum.”

  “Make it twenty!” I called after him. The man was a little much, but he seemed to know the right thing to say when it really mattered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Happy Couples

  Step One: Happy Couples

  James and I met Jon and Ginger at Bacco, one of our favorite Italian restaurants. The four of us got acquainted over a bottle of red and a couple delicious appetizers. We didn’t know it before dinner, but Jon was actually Jon Cash, the sportscaster from the local news. This prompted loads of boring conversation about the world of sports, and eventually Ginger and I spawned our own conversation about wedding dresses and honeymoon destinations. Ginger and Jon had planned a trip to Maui. I’d been there once as a teenager with my parents and hoped to return again one day with my own family.

  “So, tell me about how you got engaged,” I said to Ginger. Her grin widened and she pulled on her fiancé’s arm.

  “Honey, Marin wants to know about how we got engaged.”

  Jon leaned back in his chair with a proud grin spread across his face. “It’s a pretty romantic story. James, are you sure you want your girl to hear this?”

  James looked at me and smiled. “I think she can handle it.”

  “Okay,” he said as a warning.

  “So, Jon and I had been on a little break. I was in Paris for a trade show.” Ginger glared at me when she said the words “little break.”

  Subtle.

  “When I got back to my hotel, the front desk clerk handed me this little white envelope. It was a note from Jon.” It sounded like a movie already. “The note said to meet him on top of the Eiffel Tower at seven. Have either of you been to the top of the Eiffel Tower?”

  “Only in Vegas,” James said.

  “Well, the Eiffel Tower in Paris is twice the height,” Jon said.

  Was Jon trying to engage in a secret competition with James? The Paris tower is taller, i.e. my dick is bigger. I sighed. What I wouldn’t give for the boys to play the ‘who could get married first’ game.

  “Yeah, so I was so scared going to the top. It’s ridiculously high and it’s outside. I felt like I was going to fall off even though it was all caged in. Anyway, when I got to the top and saw Jon, I forgot all about the height. He handed me a single rose and said, ‘Ginger, I’m lost without you.’”

  “Aw!” I said. “How sweet.”

  “Then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him!” She showed us her ring as if she were revealing it for the first time. “Isn’t that incredible!”

  Oh, yes it was! Ginger had told me that they had been dating for three years
when she followed the steps in McQueen’s book. And boom! Engaged, on top of the Eiffel Tower no less.

  “That’s a very romantic story,” James said.

  “Isn’t it?” Ginger beamed. “I’m sure you’re very romantic, too, James.”

  “I can be, but I think I’m more thoughtful than romantic.” He looked at me and I kissed him.

  “You’re thoughtful and romantic, baby,” I said.

  The night had been perfect. Ginger and Jon were the perfect happy couple, and I could almost feel the commitment rubbing off on James. So much so that we spent the entire weekend together, mostly in bed. My next two weekends were booked with other happy couples including, my brother Michael, and his wife Jennifer.

  So far things were moving along according to plan. The next morning I met Holly and Rachel for brunch. I warmed my hands on the hot coffee mug on that cold February morning, and longed to be snuggled up in my bed, preferably with James and good TV.

  “I thought Telly was coming,” Rachel said. “Where is she?”

  “She texted me earlier and said she’s tied up this morning,” I told them.

  They each shot me a look as if I had more to share on the subject.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Tied up literally or figuratively?” Rachel asked.

  Good question. “I dunno. I guess I should ask her to clarify.” I sent Telly a quick text.

  “Did you and James decide on a place yet?” Holly asked.

  “No, we’re still looking.”

  “Well, I work with a teacher whose husband’s an agent, and she told me that the market’s flooded with houses for sale,” Rachel said, sounding proud to contribute to the conversation in a meaningful way.

  “Yeah, but we’re not buying.” I sighed.

  “Oh, right.” She took a moment to chew her omelet. “I’m sure it’s the same for the rental market. Besides, what’s the rush?” The rush? The rush is that I’m thirty-three, you twenty-eight year old married princess!