"My darling boy, it's good to see you!" Laura cried, running out the front door and hugging her younger son. I couldn't help but notice how awkwardly her arms went around his shoulders, like any skin-to-skin contact would mean dropping dead of the measles.
Clay forced a smile and a hug. "It's nice to see you too, mother. It looks like you haven't aged a day since I last saw you."
"You're too sweet. Here, let me take your suitcases," Laura said, touched as she took the two bags and rolled them inside. Clay looked at me and Grayson and mimed gagging as he rolled his eyes and followed her inside.
"Does she..." I didn't even know how to word my question.
"Understand that Clay literally resents her? No one really knows," Grayson sighed. "She thinks he just wanted to do his music thing and headed out into the world. Like a baby bird, toppling out of the nest and plummeting towards the ground and slamming on its beak. She doesn't get that he's literally been crushed by her."
"Poor Clay," I murmured, letting Grayson lead me towards the gardens. As I stared down at our entwined fingers, I realized.
"Poor you," I said softly.
His gaze looked shattered. "It's...fine, you know? I don't have much else in my life, so I might as well take my family. Besides, I have Clay. I also have my father. I'm learning his trade, but outside of that he's amazing. I have no idea how he ended up with someone like her."
"Grayson," I said helplessly.
He gave me a sad smile. "Really, Jackie, I'm okay. Besides, this whole adventure with you, it's been really nice having something out of the ordinary. You've been a great friend and you've been so nice. It's been amazing. Even the really weird parts."
Of course he had to bring up the really weird parts. But I swallowed and asked, "What happens when I leave?"
"I get my own place and officially take over the Answell family business. And that means seeing her less and less," he said, weary but smiling.
"You deserve so much better," I said, unsure of where the sentence came from. Even though Grayson looked like he had everything, he really had close to nothing. The poor man was falling apart and not a single person had noticed.
"Thanks. I have you, for a little while," he said, squeezing my hand.
I would've said the moment was sweet, except it was ruined by Grayson's phone buzzing. He checked it, saying, "Jason said he can't be a groomsman. He's doing a year-long trip in Cameroon studying AIDS coming up in a month."
"Is he a scientist?" I asked curiously. AIDS research sounded just fascinating.
He nodded. "He studies rare diseases, trying to figure out how they transfer and how to contain the spread. He's actually a very interesting person to talk to, should you ever meet him."
To the left, a window suddenly slammed open, the panes shuddering against the wall. A couple of petals from the flower on the windowsill flew against the roof, knocked aside in excitement. "Grayson! You didn't tell me there was a trampoline room installed!" Clay hollered.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," he said absentmindedly.
Clay was blown away. "How do you just forget about such a luxury?"
"It's a luxury you'll have to wait to use, we need to make dinner plans," Laura said from inside. This was a mildly awkward meeting, seeing as it was conducted through a window.
"Oh, dinner's on me," Clay said casually. It was suspicious how he'd so readily agreed to take on the responsibility of dinner.
"Oh, thank you, dear," she said, pleased. "When should we head out?"
"Eh, an hour," he said with a shrug. "Which gives me plenty of time to bounce around! Grayson, Jackie, you in?"
"I was thinking of taking a nap," Grayson said.
"Me too," I said, since these long days of constantly socializing were catching up to me.
Clay snickered. "Okay, have a really great nap. Like super good. I mean, it is a nap, right? Like the two of you...alone....in Grayson's room..."
I stared daggers at him.
He coughed. "See you guys later, after I've flipped myself over a gajillion times."
"Goodness, don't make yourself sick," Laura mused in concern.
"I got it. Cya!" And with that, his head disappeared from the window.
Grayson and I came in through a door, like most humans do, and headed upstairs. I groaned when I opened the bedroom door, because my grand plans to flop face-first on the bed had been foiled by a cardboard box.
"I didn't order anything," Grayson said with a frown, checking the label. "Oh, it's yours."
"Mine?" I asked, confused. I definitely hadn't ordered anything. But I was delighted when I took it from him. "It's from Kylie! She asked for the address yesterday, I didn't think anything of it," I said, eagerly clawing at the tape.
"That's nice of her, to send you a present," he said cheerily as I tore apart the package. I had no patience for tape, but finally I managed to wrench the box apart. My enthusiasm almost fizzled out immediately, since Kylie had managed to send possibly the most horrific gift in the history of gifts.
I let out a strangled gasp, dropping the box like it was on fire. Grayson looked up from his phone, asking, "What, what did she send you?"
"Spiders," I lied. Much nicer than the truth.
"Alive?" Grayson asked, sounding mildly impressed. His guess wasn't terrible; Kylie, should she ever need to, would send live spiders.
"Yes, big black ones with fuzzy legs," I elaborated, wondering when I'd get the chance to burn Kylie's present. Burn it, after I'd drenched it in gasoline, of course.
"Lemme see," he said, sounding like an eager psychopath because who wants to see scary spiders?!? I tried snatching the box away, but Grayson was too fast. He must've inherited the chicken gene from his mother.
He took one glance in the box and burst out laughing. The huge, earth-shaking laughter that was so loud he had to stuff his face into his pillow to muffle the noise.
Mortified, I buried my face in my hands. Grayson just kept on laughing, sounding like he was going to expel his lungs from his body.
"Kylie," he wheezed, "has a great sense of humor."
"Oh, it's not funny!" I said desperately, my face still hot.
"It's not funny. It's hilarious," he cackled, setting off another round of laughter.
"Grayson," I pleaded, almost desperate.
"Okay, okay," he giggled, holding his stomach to calm himself down. "But you've got to admit this," he said, holding up the lacy red bralette, "is not your typical best friend gift."
"It is for Kylie, who apparently looks to humiliate me," I mumbled, snatching it out of his hands. He'd touched it, which somehow made it so much worse.
He peeked back into the box and began laughing again. "It comes with a matching garter!" he howled in delight.
For that I mentally slapped Kylie about a thousand more times. If I ever made it back to Virginia, I would have a serious talk with her about buying wildly inappropriate presents when I'm only half-married to someone. And then maybe I'd make her beg for my forgiveness. And then—
"Okay, but seriously, you'd look stunning in these," Grayson said, raising his eyebrows.
"You'll never get the chance to see me in them because I'm burning them and throwing them in the ocean," I said crossly.
"The ocean is almost a half hour away—"
"I don't care, I'd make the trip." Kylie was a person who knew how to frustrate me.
"Just saying, red is your color," he said with a sly look on his face.
"Ha, ha, dear husband, no," I said, rolling my eyes. He pouted as I forcefully jammed the box into a tiny space in the closet. "That's its new home."
I liked seeing the cardboard get all scrunched up.
"You know, you should wear that to dinner tonight," Grayson snickered, still overjoyed by this turn of events.
"Never," I said bitterly.
"C'mon, it's a dress up event! That includes underneath too," he said, practically giving himself a heart attack with all this laughter. I personally would not have minded if he'd had a heart attack right then.
"You're just as bad as him," I hissed under my breath.
"Who, Clay? No one is as bad as Clay," Grayson said firmly, leaning back with his hands folded under his head.
"You're on your way," I retorted.
"Never," he mimicked.
The closet doors flew shut with a slam. "Grayson Answell, I advise you to shut your mouth."
"Okay, Jackie Answell," he said, his eyes glimmering with delight.
Holding down my rage, I laid down and curled up under the blankets, hoping to get in a good nap before returning to Clay's Circus of Life. Perhaps if I was lucky, Grayson would fade away as well, disappearing into the great clouds in the sky.
It felt like I'd barely closed my eyes when Grayson moved and said, "Dinnertime. Let's see what horrors my brother has concocted."
I groaned and stiffly got up, plodding after him. Clay and Laura were downstairs, and Clay was twirling a ring of keys on his index finger.
"The lovebirds have arrived! Let's go," he said, waltzing away. My scowl became slightly more permanent as we jumped in the car.
Clay's big plan? McDonald's. I was the first to realize, and I bit my fist and turned towards my window, silently in hysterics.
"Are we turning around? I knew that was our turn," Laura said in dismay from the front seat.
Clay parked and turned to grin at her. "Quite the contrary. This is fine dining like you've never experienced."
"I should've known you'd pull something like this," Grayson sighed, but he too was biting back a smile.
Laura looked revolted. "Clay, do you know what happens to people who eat this garbage?" she fretted, stepping out of the car like the very pavement offended her.
"Yep. They live happier lives. Now what toy do you want in your happy meal?" he chirped.
"Can I get chocolate milk?" I asked. My mood had improved now that we'd upset Laura.
Clay clapped in delight. "Of course, love! What about you, dear brother?"
"I'll take a couple of hamburgers, and don't call her love," Grayson said with a faint frown.
We walked a few steps behind Clay and Laura, who were still bickering. I murmured, "Jealous of your brother over your fake wife?"
"More like worried he'll do something stupid," Grayson grumbled. "He's got twigs for a brain."
I giggled. "You're related, aren't you?"
"Haha, let's get you a happy meal, wife," he said with a snort.
Dinner was so normal. And so fun. It was exactly what I needed. Sure, Laura looked way out of her comfort zone, but that was a nice touch to my triumph. Clay and Grayson were having a ball, happily downing containers of fries and slurping sodas.
"Goodness, please do try to act like we're in public," Laura sighed, taking a dainty nibble of her burger. She honest to goodness had cut it into pieces with a fork and knife.
"See, mother, I know we're in public. That's what makes it so much better," Clay reasoned, loosening the tie around his collar.
Grayson nodded, quickly trying to swallow. "Thanks for this, man."
"No problem. Say, are you going to eat those?" Clay asked, hopefully staring at the little pile of fries remaining. I knew they would be gone in a matter of seconds.
His brother laughed, passing the tray to me. "Already promised them to Jackie, buddy."
"Hmph. Stupid good husband," Clay grumbled, crossing his ankles and folding his arms.
"Why thank you." Grayson was astonished by the compliment, holding his hand to his chest in amazement. I peeked over at Laura, who had remained both ghostly pale and completely silent during dinner.
"The best ones share their fries," I said, smiling as I kissed his cheek. It was so small that no one else noticed, but I noticed him relax a bit, his smile become more open. Was he not used to affection, from anyone? Probably not. Under the table, I squeezed his hand, trailing my fingertips over his wedding ring. Grayson looked up and smiled, saying, "Open."
I dutifully did so and happily accepted the fries he fed me. Clay mimed hurling, bending over the back of the booth behind us. "Gross, guys, keep it PG."
Grayson shot a fry at his little brother, a shot I thought was well-deserved. I giggled, saying, "Sorry, Clay, you must be suffering so."
"My suffering is indeed great," he agreed, combing back his hair with his fingers. His greasy, salty fingers. Ewwww.
"Your hair is suffering," Grayson noted. Apparently he shared my wisdom.
"My hair is gorgeous, don't deny it, brother," Clay scoffed. "Back me up, Jackie."
I shrugged. "I like Grayson's better."
"Thank you," Grayson said, draping one arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him slightly, absorbing his warmth and his familiar scent. Maybe I'd known him less than a week, but I'd already become much too accustomed to his presence. But that wasn't a bad thing, seeing as I was his wife.
I only wondered how hard it would be to get unaccustomed next year.