Bankers' Hours(38)

       
           



       

"Is that a wedding ring on your hand?" she asked boldly.

I hadn't told Jessica. What if she overheard? She'd probably get angry and yell or make a scene. I said quietly, "Yes."

I felt her eyes raking over me, but I refused to glance at her. "Hmm. I suppose congratulations are in order."

Not what I'd expected. I smiled thinly, still worried what those around  me might say if they heard our conversation. "Thank you."

"I don't remember seeing it on your hand last week."

I finished up the transaction and turned my attention fully her way. "No. It was recent."

Her grin was more seductive than I expected. "You realize, dear boy, that being married only makes you more appealing."

I drew in a long breath. "And on that note, here's the receipt for your  deposit and transfer." I didn't need to fuel her interest any more than I  was apparently already doing with my mere presence.

She chuckled deep in her cougar throat and walked away.

I breathed a sigh of relief and then turned around to find Jessica  standing right there, glaring. "You're married? When were you going to  tell me?"

"Um, now." She was upset, and I had a feeling it was because she saw us  as friends and I had somehow betrayed her by not disclosing the  information first thing. "I'm sorry, Jessica. It all happened really  fast," I apologized. Whether or not it was my fault, I didn't want her  to feel hurt. "I called the courthouse like you suggested, and there  were only two times available. We got married this morning."

Jessica surveyed the lobby to make sure no one was waiting in line  before commenting. "But is this what you want? Is this the dream wedding  you planned your whole life? Is standing in front of a judge-"

"Clerk," I corrected.

"Whatever …  the way you pictured it?"

"I haven't really pictured anything." Not exactly true, but I knew what I  had dreamed about through the years was not the same as Jessica.

"Bullshit. I've been planning my wedding since I was five. I know what  flowers I want and the kind of gown. Let me see your ring," she  demanded. Reluctantly, I brought up my hand. She eyed it curiously and  then figured out I had rotated the ring around to the inside of my hand.  I rolled my eyes, huffed, and righted it. "Oh my God!" Jessica howled  and grabbed my hand. "That's huge! How much money does Tristan have?"

I winced at her volume. "Shhh, I don't want to advertise my life in here."

She quieted. "I'm sorry." She held my hand and tilted the diamond in  different directions like I had. "This is the prettiest ring I've ever  seen. And you're going to stand there and tell me you've never dreamed  about your wedding? A guy doesn't pick out a ring this ostentatious  without thinking about it. If you didn't care about any of it, then  you'd have been fine with just the one simple band. This ring screams  ‘romantic.'"

She had me there. As soon as I had seen it, I had known I wanted so much  more than a court clerk officiating our wedding with as much emotion as  the chief justice swearing in the president. I did want romance. I did  want flowers. I knew I had looked nice-so had Tristan-but wouldn't a  white tux have been more grand? "We're planning the spring wedding  thing. I told you. This is just so it's official and he can file for  full custody and show how stable his home life is compared to his ex." I  kept repeating the same reason, but it sounded less and less convincing  each time.

"I hope it's worth it."

I assured her, "It is. This is sudden, but fine. Really." Jessica walked  back to her cubicle when a customer walked up. As she helped him I  couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. Was I really fine? I told  myself I was. Everything else had happened so suddenly, but if I thought  about it, then yes, I wanted more. I was a romantic. I wanted music and  laughter. The clerk had been kind and had told us afterward he was glad  for the ruling in June for marriage equality nationwide. I appreciated  the sentiment, but I felt the emptiness of our marriage without our  loved ones as witnesses. The two employees who witnessed our wedding  were strangers. I wanted my mother there. I'd texted, but she had been  on another bus trip-two in one week! She'd texted back her apology and  left me feeling cold. I felt gypped. So much of the morning seemed  imaginary. It was like getting married in secret, which it kind of was.





AT LUNCH, I called Mel. He was upset, but ultimately understood. "Did you tell your mother?" he asked.                       
       
           



       

I muttered, "Yes. She was on a bus trip-again. She couldn't be bothered  to cancel it last minute. It's as if she's glad I'm not coming to her  with every concern, instead of getting upset I'd forgotten to call. I  admit I've been caught up in the whirlwind of it all, but I also feel  disappointed at how it's gone down." I couldn't believe I hadn't thought  about my mother more. I used to think about her all the time, but  lately she hadn't been in my thoughts at all. I felt guilty.

"I can't say I'm surprised. You're not a kid, and I think she'd agree with me your clinginess was becoming an issue."

"I'm not clingy!" I paused and thought about it. Arguing was pointless.  "Fine, maybe I am," I amended. I sighed over the phone. "You're right.  I've avoided being an adult for far too long. How'd you get so smart?"

Mel chuckled. "By doing all the wrong things too many times. When do I  get to meet Mr. Carr? Or is he changing it to Mr. Adams? You could  hyphenate it too. Were you thinking of hyphenating?"

Too many questions at once-I nearly choked on my water. I coughed to  make sure I could breathe and then answered, "I haven't thought about  it. But …  Grant Carr has a pleasant ring to it, don't you think?"

Mel agreed, "Yeah. If you did Adams-Carr, then people might mistakenly  hear ‘Adam's car' and be looking out the window for a Volkswagen or  something."

I giggled. "That would be bad. I'll have to ask Tristan. This weekend is  out, because his daughter visits every other weekend. I'm pretty sure  Saturday is her visit."

"Are you nervous?"

"No, not really. I'm worried for Tristan because she's going to be  upset. He told her last weekend she could come to the ceremony. Now it's  done, and she's going to yell at him, I know it."

"You realize what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You're the stepdad. You have a kid, Grant, a teenaged kid. You need to  make sure you always side with Tristan, or discuss things privately when  you disagree. Maintaining a solid parental front is best when dealing  with teenagers. My advice: never get in between Tristan and his  daughter."

"Why?" I asked innocently, wondering how Mel had gotten so knowledgeable when he didn't have children.

"Because you'll alienate Tristan if you do, and give his daughter more  power than she deserves as a child. She'll try to work you in order to  get her way, thinking you're the weak one, but you should always talk  things through with Tristan, especially if she tries manipulation. Never  let her think she's in charge."

"Wise words from a single person," I said.

"Maybe-but I have two sisters, one brother, three half sisters, and two  stepbrothers, don't forget. My gigantimous family has taught me a thing  or two."

The truth dawned on me. "Oh, right. I'll listen to you from now on, Obi-Wan."

Mel laughed. "You better!"

"Listen, my break's over. I gotta go. I'll talk to Tristan and see if we  can have you over for dinner next weekend or meet you at a restaurant."

"Okay, sounds good."

We both said good-bye, and I cleaned up my trash before heading back out  to my station. Work picked up after lunch, so the rest of the day went  by swiftly. One customer noticed my diamond ring and only said  congratulations. It made me feel less nervous about wearing it facing  front. I knew I shouldn't be embarrassed to show it off, but part of me  was still tentative. I knew I'd feel more confident in time.





I LEFT my pinstriped shirt on, because I hadn't gotten it dirty, and  leaving it on reminded me of our marriage that morning. Tristan arrived,  and we were off to Olive Garden.

In the truck, he said, "I called Claire. She was upset at first, but  after I explained why, she calmed down. I told her we'd promised to have  something in the spring, and she was pleased."

"Yeah, I talked to Mel. I texted my mom and she was fine. Jessica was  pissed she hadn't been there, so we definitely need to plan a spring  wedding. I'd like to wear a white tux, if you don't mind."

He stopped the truck at a light and turned to regard me. He gave a slight grin. "A tux, eh?"