Mama pulls me to her, and I wind my arms around her waist, breathing in the familiar scent of her magnolia lotion. I’m aware of the tears leaking in a steady stream from my eyes, even if I don’t know why they’re falling. And now I’m full-on sobbing, with hiccups and everything.
Mama strokes my hair, and the birds sing and chatter just outside the glass as inside the small room, I allow myself to fall apart.
Why is it easier to do so with the one person who has no understanding of what’s going on?
Or maybe it’s because she’s my mama and always will be my mama, whether she knows what year it is or not.
“There, there,” she coos, “that’s my strong, brave girl. Did someone break your heart?”
That’s a question I can’t answer. My heart feels surprisingly light and hopeful, but hope isn’t something I trust anymore. The pattern of my life seems to be that the moment I find happiness, it gets yanked away. Though it’s the worst possible thing to think about on my wedding day, I just keep wondering when it will end and leave me crushed and alone.
From The Neighborly App
Subject: Wedding of the Year?
The_Real_Shell-E
ICYMI Lindy Darcy got hitched in the courthouse. If anyone knows how she managed to snag one of the Graham brothers, please let me know. At least there are two more up for grabs! Also, what was she wearing?!?! So tacky.
BagelBytes
I think she looks beautiful. Good for them!
TheRealBob
Patrick Graham may be the best thing to happen to Sheet Cake football in years. Congrats to the happy couple. Go Sheet Cake!
DeltaDeltaDelta Don’t forget about their dad! He’s old but not like THAT old. That’s three Grahams left to choose from.
And what I’ve heard is Lindy dated Pat in college and he broke her heart. Maybe he knocked her up? She looks really puffy. Shotgun wedding?
The_Real_Shell-E
Are we sure Jo isn’t really Lindy and Pat’s baby? Has anyone even seen Rachel in years? I heard Pat has gotten in fights with both Billy and Wolf over her. I just don’t get how someone so PLAIN has men falling all over her.
Kimmie
Jo is definitely not Pat and Lindy’s baby. And I wouldn’t say Lindy has men falling all over her. She and Billy dated YEARS ago. Someone told me the marriage with Pat isn’t even real.
Vanz
What is VERY real is the danger of big pharma
BagelBytes
Sounds like we’ve got a lot of jealous people in this town with nothing better to do than spread rumors and gossip. I reported your comments. Hope you get blocked.
Neighborly Mod
[This thread has been closed and marked for deletion]
Chapter Twenty
Lindy
Pat is in my house. With bags and his truck parked out front. With the scent I know comes from a mix of cheap body products and eau de Patrick Graham. Jo and the dogs circle him with equal amounts of enthusiasm, making it difficult for him to even walk through the family room.
Pat is moving into my house, still wearing his wedding suit. The creak of my floor and thump of his footfalls assures me that this is not a drill. He could not look happier about the prospect of bringing in the bags his family dropped off after the reception. Meanwhile, I am hiding in the kitchen, with my hands manacled around a cup of coffee like it’s my only anchor to sanity. I think maybe it is.
Now that I’m looking at Jo’s and my life through Pat’s eyes, it feels so small, so not good enough. I can’t wait to hear what Pat says when I tell him he can’t use the toilet upstairs. He'll realize when he sees the sign and the duct tape.
I tell myself this will be fine, that there’s a happy ending in here somewhere. One where I get to keep Jo and Pat doesn’t break my heart and the upstairs toilet starts working again.
I hear Jo jabbering as she drags the smallest of Pat’s bags upstairs. “And did you know mama alligators hide their babies in their mouths when there’s danger?”
“Is that right?” Pat asks.
There is not even a shred of annoyance in his voice, which makes me want to throw my arms around his neck. Even the people who love Jo sometimes tire of her seemingly endless repertoire of facts.
She’s still going. “They can fit like twenty hatchlings in there.”
Pat’s voice carries down the stairs. “That’s impressive. Did Lindy ever try that with you? Because I’m not sure you’d fit. Especially not now. But we should investigate. Come here, let me measure you.”
I hear her squeal because the house is not even remotely soundproof. Which would be a real buzzkill if I hadn’t told Pat we were sleeping in separate bedrooms. NON-NEGOTIABLE.
Other than my closet for crying, I haven’t needed soundproofing for the past five years, and I certainly don’t now just because I’m …
I’m …
I’m … married.
The word doesn’t feel real. Neither does the idea of Pat living across the hall for the foreseeable future. Even a hallway isn’t enough space between us. He’s already wearing an ankle monitor—maybe I could tack on one of those dog collars for an electric fence and set it up between our bedrooms. Just in case.
I’ve been adamant that this is a marriage in name only, though I saw the gleam in his eye, making me glad I wrote up a set of rules. The moment Jo is in bed, he and I will be going over those rules, and he will agree to them.
Then we will abide by them and everything will be FINE. And if, at some point down the road once the hearing is done, I want to consider the whole attraction and feelings thing and give this a real chance, we can toss the rules. But for now, they are my shield.
I lean back against the counter, closing my eyes. This is a mistake. Isn’t it? Everything in my life feels so infinitely fragile. I’m like the little pig who’s built a house of toothpicks and tissue paper, and Pat is the big bad wolf, here to blow it down with one breath.
“Why are you putting your things in the guest room?” Jo’s wobbly voice carries to me. It’s her about-to-cry voice.
I set down my mug and bolt for the stairs. When I reach Jo, it’s just in time. Her lip is trembling, tears at the ready. Pat looks to me with huge eyes.