I bet Ames is really into office supplies.
That shouldn’t be sexy. but it is.
He’d probably look super hot in glasses…and just like that I’m already sidetracked.
He made some really valid points. I can already imagine existing without the worry and weight of the cost of genetic testing and everything cancer-related on my shoulders. I feel lighter just thinking about it. How much easier would everything be if I didn’t have to be constantly stressed out about that one, single aspect of my life? Having good health insurance would be a godsend right now.
If I didn’t have to worry about the money for testing, I could focus more on piano. I’d be able to take more gigs and even teach more. Music, and not instrument tuning, could take center stage again. Pun definitely intended. Man, I’d love to be in a place where I didn’t have to turn down opportunities to play because they don’t pay enough.
There are a lot of reasons this could be a good thing. But the way I’m currently feeling, with my face resting on his chest and his arms around me, tells me there are for sure some reasons this could be a really bad idea. He’s very charming. I feel like he could probably talk me into just about anything. Especially if the negotiations involve his body and mine.
Sex aside, I genuinely like him. I definitely want to see him again. I want to keep spending time with him, dating for real, with a lot more of the sex. For sure more of the sex. How does all of that work though, if we’re suddenly legally married and living together tomorrow? Maybe it would feel as easy and natural as it has all weekend, though. I guess this is why he said we would make our own rules. It’s too much to think about on my own. This time it isn’t a cop out to avoid unpleasant things. I think I’ll be able to think through this all more clearly with his input. After all, this does concern both of us equally. When we talk about it my main concerns will be: the rules, what it means for a budding relationship with my attraction for him, and how invested he’ll be in my medical decisions. Having decided those things, I give myself a giant mental trophy and snuggle a little closer to Ames.
We’re on our third episode, post proposal, when Ames asks if I’m hungry. I’m famished and we decide to go down to the restaurant on the ground level. We’re standing by the hostess stand, waiting to give her our name when an arm raises up, beckoning us over. A kind, well-wrinkled face smiles in greeting as Ames weaves us through the tables to reach them.
“Care to have dinner with a couple of old coots?” Earl asks. Mabel motions to the two empty chairs at their table.
“Are you sure you want us interrupting your meal?” I ask.
Mabel waves her hands at us. “Of course, we’re sure! Sit, sit. We haven’t even ordered yet.”
They have their chairs scooted towards the corner to be closer together. Whether it’s unconscious or not, Ames imitates them, doing the same to our chairs, on the opposite corner. His strong arm, resting on the back of my chair, gives off enough heat to tell me it’s there before his fingers meet the bare skin of my arm, a small signal that he’s with me. The waitress comes back with water, and we order. Earl holds Mabel’s hand the whole time we talk, they’re connection palpable. They have this aura of comfort and being with them feels like I’m being welcomed in to something special. My parents have that too. Earl tells us they’re from Ohio, where he was in insurance, and they raised 3 kids. They come to Hawai‘i every fall, just the two of them.
“How long have you two been together?” Mabel asks us.
I feel a little embarrassed answering. “This weekend is actually our first date.”
“No!” Earl seems genuinely shocked. “You two are the real deal. I’m sure of it. My Mabel and I talked about it at the pool! We could tell you guys are long-haulers, like us.” He pats her cheek lovingly.
Ames puts his arm around my shoulders, his fingers caressing the bare skin. “Well, Earl, between you and me, I did ask her to marry me. She’s still thinking it over though.”
Mabel claps her hands together and Earl grins. “That’s the spirit, son! You can’t let something special slip through your fingers!” I nudge his leg and Ames looks down at me, the curve of his lips like a secret, just for me.
I try to steer the conversation elsewhere, scared to admit how much Ames affects me already. “You said you’ve been together 50 years, Mabel? When did you meet?”
“Oh, we met in junior high.” She smiles slyly.
“Was it love at first sight?”
“Nope!” Earl barks out a laugh. “I hated her on sight! Loathed her.”
“That’s right!” Mabel giggles. “Loathe at first sight! He called me a knobby-kneed brat!”
“Earl!” I gasp out. “You didn’t?”
“Oh, I did. She was a skinny little know-it-all who was always talking down to everyone.”
“But then, how did you end up together?”
Earl clutches her hand again, looking at her with such affection I suddenly feel like we’re intruding. It makes my stomach clench. I want that kind of love.
“Sophomore year of high school I was in a bad car accident. I broke my pelvis, among other things, and was in the hospital for a long time. I couldn’t play sports, the fellas stopped coming around, I was lonely and struggling to keep up with my schoolwork. I never was much for schoolwork. Little Miss Know-It-All Mabel Henson started coming by every day, to help me. She was patient but didn’t put up with my bad attitude. Even as a teenager, Mabel didn’t take any guff. All that time at the hospital, then recovering at home, I learned a lot about myself. And her. She wasn’t actually a know-it-all. Mabel was just really smart and confident. Plus she was funny, with the sweetest smile, and she loved baseball more than I did! She helped me with my schoolwork, became my most steadfast friend, and by the time I was healed I couldn’t imagine spending a single day without her. She’s been taking care of me and keeping me in line since we were 15.” Mabel pats his cheek with her free hand and Earl brings their clasped hands up to his lips.
Our food arrives, saving me from looking like a basket case, weeping over their love story. Dinner is thoroughly enjoyable. Earl and Mabel are hilarious and adorable. Our waitress even takes our photo, to commemorate the evening and Mabel gets my phone number to get in touch when they come back next year. Earl insists on paying for dinner, and they both hug us closely when we part ways in the lobby. Mabel smooths my hair, the perfect picture of a grandmother. “You’ve got a keeper there, dear. Don’t talk yourself out of letting him care for you.”
Ames and I go back up to our room, bellies full and hearts filled by our time with the cute elderly couple. We sit out on the balcony, and I surprise both of us by starting the conversation, unprompted, still thinking about what Mabel said to me.
“I’m leaning towards saying yes to your proposal, but you should know I have some reservations. I’m finding though, that I think more clearly through these harder conversations with help. Your help.” The smile he gives me, the clear gratitude in his eyes, gives me a warm, glowing feeling inside. “If you’re willing, I’d like to talk through a few things. Maybe you could help me stay on track and line things up. That could make it easier for me.”
“Of course. Would it help if we wrote things down?” I’m picturing notecards again and I grin. “What was that? Are you secretly making fun of me?”
“Possibly. Do you like office supplies?”
“I feel like you know I do. That’s lame, isn’t it? You’re sitting there, smugly thinking about how boring I am with my highlighters and sticky note pads.”
“And notecards?”
He grins with me at that. “Yes! And notecards. Color coded, maybe with coordinated pen ink.”
“That’s hot! Bring some of that detail-oriented magic up in this, I need that kind of help. Unlike you, I’m basically walking chaos!”
“Well, I am looking for a wife who likes me for who I am…” he winks, the motion settling around my heart like a good hug.
“I think most of my question
s would probably be answered with the drafting of our rules. We can get to that. My biggest thing, outside of deciding how we could make this work for both of us in the day to day, is my health stuff. I have a lot of huge, life-altering decisions ahead of me. As far as the law is concerned, if we do this, you’re my husband, my next of kin. How involved are you intending to be with my medical care?”
“Like, am I willing to go to appointments, sit with you through chemotherapy, that kind of thing?”
“Sure, but more importantly, are you looking at this like we’re married, and you get an equal say in what I decide to do about tests, treatments, and so on?”
“Oh.” The previous mirth slides off his face. “I hadn’t thought about that. Well, I’m assuming, if we get to talk about rules, we’ll want to look at this like the beginning of a relationship, not jumping immediately into an equal partnership like marriage. I guess I will have the expectations of a boyfriend.” The nervous clinch of my stomach relaxes and dips. It is downright stupid how much of a thrill I get from hearing him refer to himself as my boyfriend. “I will want to care about you and for you, but it’s your body and your decision. I’ll support you as much as you’ll allow.”
That’s a huge burden off of my shoulders. I already have to weigh my decisions against my parents’ feelings and my own. I don’t need an only-on-paper husband stepping in and making things more complicated.
“Does that help at all?” He’s still looking at me, worry wrinkling his brow.
“That helps immensely. I think we should make tea and establish some rules.”
“Um, Nalani? I know I said it was important to be legally married, but I don’t think I adequately explained a facet of that.” I gesture for him to continue, my gut right back to being my barometer of anxiety. “It would be hard for anyone to prove we’re getting married for my benefits, but they could still try. Contract marriages happen more than people realize, but it’s not something my chain of command would look kindly on. Ultimately, the burden to prove it would be on them, we wouldn’t get in trouble. But it would make me look bad. It would affect how I’m viewed as an officer. I don’t want to be looked at like some dirtbag, gaming the system. My job and my reputation are important to me. They’re all I have. They’re who I am. If we do this, I don’t think we should tell anyone else that we have rules and are dating with a legal marriage certificate. To everyone else, this needs to be legit.”
“I get that. We should probably address that in the rules.” I understand where he’s coming from, for sure, but I have to admit I’m worried about adding anything else to make this situation more high-stakes than it already is. Now my health and his career are on the line.
15
Contract
Marriage Contract Rules Between
Ames Harrison Cabot &
Nalani Mino‘aka Kimura
No one else knows about the contract or the reality of our situation.
Nalani has final say and authority on all of her medical care decisions.
This original contract will expire in 1 year ending in divorce or renegotiation.
This is a real, legally binding, and monogamous marriage.
Sex is awesome, but not expected or a requirement.
Day 1 of marriage will begin as date 4 and grow from there.
Nalani will take Ames’ last name as that will fit her parents’ expectations.
We will share a bed, regardless of sexual relationship or lack thereof (see Rule 1).
Nalani gets to be the big spoon.
All decisions regarding the couple will be made together.
Murder, She Wrote, and cuddling are non-negotiable.
16
Ames
We’re doing this. Somehow she agreed and we’re actually doing this! I don’t think the reality of it has hit me yet. Either that or there is something seriously wrong with me because I’m not nervous or worried. I’m excited. I feel like today is my real deal, long-awaited wedding day, and I’m anxious to get going. I wonder if I should be concerned about how invested I feel. I know I’ve already convinced Nalani that this is merely a contract and we’ll be dating, getting to know each other for a year, but in reality, I’m already way past that. It’s just who I am. I don’t half-ass things. It’s probably best if I don’t share that at this point. That for sure would come off as creepy. Or overly needy. I can’t imagine being borderline obsessive is a turn on. I have enough to keep me busy as it is. There’s a surprising amount we have to do this morning, even for a quickie wedding. Nalani has rolled over, away from me. If she’s not going to be in my arms, I might as well get started.
I go down to the lobby to make sure we can keep the room for one more night — thank goodness it’s the off-season and a Monday. They can accommodate us. I settle up the bill, knowing they have my card on file for any last-minute expenses. That will save time tomorrow morning. I grab us some breakfast and take it back up to the room. Nalani is awake and on the balcony when I get back. Her dark hair is blowing in the breeze, leaving the graceful line of her neck exposed. I’m still bowled over by her beauty and presence. We sit down to eat, and I take the opportunity to go over the details of our day.
“Are you still in?”
“I’m in.” She drinks her coffee and gives me a slow-blooming, sleepy smile.
“Good. We can’t turn in the license application we filled out last night until after 8, but we have enough to do to stay busy until then. I need to run home to get my uniform for work tomorrow. Will you want to wear something else or are you going to wear the dress from Friday?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. It feels like more pressure to pick out something else, for the wedding. I don’t know if I have anything that feels ‘wedding’ enough. Do you think my dress will be alright?”
“More than alright. Perfect. You looked beautiful, Nalani.”
“Will you wear the tux?” I nod. “Excellent.”
“Excellent?” I goad her a little. “Do you like the tux?”
“It’s okay.” She lifts one of her shoulders. “If you’re into the whole classically sexy thing.” I raise an eyebrow and she raises her own in response. “I am.”
She catches me off-guard with her more playful side and I laugh loudly. It’s the laugh Norah not-so-kindly refers to as my donkey bray. Instead of looking shocked or annoyed, as most people do, Nalani snorts and starts laughing harder. The thought that lights up in my brain like a flashing sign: this is going to work.
“Thank goodness!” She gasps between laughs.
“What?”
“You were starting to seem too perfect. It was making me self-conscious.”
“I’m so far from perfect it’s laughable. Should I be self-conscious about my ‘not perfect’ laugh?”
“Not at all, I love it. And it makes me feel more comfortable because I’m so imperfect.”
“You’re pretty perfect in my eyes, but I know what you mean.” I pause to drink some coffee, going over my mental list for the morning. “We’re both good with the clothes we have here. We can get dressed, go home, then come back townside to get the rings, the license, and get to our appointment at the civil ceremony place to get married.”
“Sounds like a plan. Do you want to shower first?”
“Sure, then I can shave while you’re showering, keep us on track. We’ll stay here for one last bubble night, so we don’t need to pack up.”
“Bubble night?”
I hadn’t even realized I’d used that term out loud. It’s sort of embarrassing. I’m not as guarded around Nalani, and these inner thoughts keep sneaking out. “That’s sort of what I’ve been calling it in my head. This weekend has been a perfect Ames and Nalani bubble.”
“I like that. Our own little bubble.”
I kiss her temple, then head inside to get ready before my dick gets involved and I put us behind schedule.
30 minutes later we’re dressed and in my car, driving back to the windward side. It’s clear we hadn’
t talked much about our living situations as she guides me to her place. She doesn’t live that far from me, although she’s around the edge of Kaneohe Bay, closer to Kailua. I can’t believe she’s been this close, in the same town, the whole time. I park in the driveway and she leads me up the stairs to a studio apartment, much like Ka‘eo's, but situated on the backside of the property, set up on stilts above a carport. It looks like her, artistic and pretty. The windows, making up the entire front wall of the apartment, take full advantage of the panoramic view of Kaneohe Bay.
“Well, this is it.” She gestures around us.
“It’s great! For being a small studio, you’ve made it feel really comfortable and homey. How would you feel about the two of us coming back here, for the first bit of time, before we decide what we want to do with our living situation?”
“You want to live here?” I’m sure she wouldn’t look so surprised if she saw the alternative.
“For sure. What’s your lease like?”
“Oh, um, I’ve been here for a couple of years, so I’m month to month. Not that I intended on leaving before now.”
“Ok, well, I’m also not locked in, but I share a house with three other people. That wouldn’t be a dealbreaker, except for the part where it’s a 3 bedroom and I share a room with Norah. Not ideal. I definitely don’t want to share you with her.”
“I think I’d prefer to have you all to myself. With privacy.” She winks. “Do you have a lot of stuff you’d need to bring? I’m pretty tight on space.” She looks around, probably worried about how much my presence is going to turn her life upside down.
“Nah. I have clothes and stuff. Nothing big. We’ll make it work.”
“Are you still good to leave me here to fix my hair and makeup?”
Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2) Page 7