"I promise to support you in good times and in bad, at sheriff's auctions, and kitschy diners, and to be nothing more than a solid foundation of moral support for you and Lexi at trivia nights," Nick had promised.
"I promise to stay with you forever, long past the short-term window of your reality show fame, well into the days where you're not nearly as cute and are even more dense. Though, I suspect part of that will be because you're hard of hearing," I had vowed.
The small crowd laughed.
We promised our love.
And most importantly, we promised each other our future.
"By the power vested in me by the great state of New York," the minister announced with a soft smile etched across his lips. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
Nick grasped both of my cheeks into his palms and whispered, "I love you," against my lips before pressing his mouth to mine. The kiss was soft, sweet, gentle, and filled with nothing but love and adoration.
And all I could think the entire time was, He's my husband. I'm kissing my husband!
I was officially Mrs. Charlotte Raines.
It sure has a nice ring to it, huh?
It was the best of times.
It was far from the worst of times.
And yet, Harry and Doreen were still living in Charlotte's house.
It'd been months since our wedding day, and the place in Chinatown had officially loaded my entire wardrobe with the smell of fried wontons. The turnover on the commercial space below-what would forever be known as "Chinatown Hell"-was ever-rolling, but the roll of the dice had been in our favor until now.
Now, there was an all-hours restaurant at our feet. Convenient, maybe. But mostly fucking annoying.
Sure, my place was there, but it'd only be an option for another two weeks when my lease ran its course. We'd been rotating back and forth for the most part, one month we'd stay at my place, the next month at Charlotte's, but we'd agreed it was time to put down real roots and grow them together. We were married now, and living apart wasn't an option. But living in Chinatown long term wasn't either.
I liked Chinese food as much as the next person, but it was covering up Charlotte's lavender. And that, I couldn't abide. We needed a plan, and we needed it now.
"What are we going to do about Harry and Doreen, Char?"
"I don't know, husband. Why don't you figure out what we're going to do? I thought that was the point of having someone lawfully bound to me."
I smirked. "And what point is that, exactly?"
"To handle all of the shitty decisions," she clarified without shame. I laughed outright.
"If that were the case, wouldn't we just get stuck in a devolving cycle of neither of us taking responsibility? After all, you're lawfully bound to me. Wouldn't that mean you're supposed to handle the shitty decisions, too?"
"I hate when you make sense. It's fucking ridiculous."
I clucked. "I'm pretty sure you're always telling me to make more sense. In fact, just last week, you told me, and I quote, ‘Goddammit, you're fucking awful at this. At least say something that makes sense.' End quote."
She threw her top at me instead of shoving it into her suitcase and shrieked. "Don't you dare use my trivia-night hysteria against me. You know I panic when Lexi can't make it!"
"All right. That was a low blow, I suppose," I consoled. "What would you like me to do about Harry and Doreen, dear?"
"I want you to get them out while I'm in Rochester," she said simply. She'd be gone for a couple of days on business, something that happened rarely, but happened. And apparently, she was just as done with Chinatown as I was.
"Okay," I agreed, trying to give her what she needed with the simplest form of support. No arguments, no justifications, no teasing.
She frowned. "Just okay? Just like that?"
I sighed, but kept my mouth shut for a moment. I knew my wife well enough to know she'd have more questions to get through before I'd get an opportunity to answer.
"Doreen and Harry are like family, and you're just okay with putting them out on the street after all they've been through?"
"Is there an answer key to this test? Please?" I pleaded. "I fear I'll fail without it."
She pouted and sank into my arms. "I just want you to find a way for me to have both. Isn't there a way for you to do that? Fucking superhero this shit, Raines."
A stroke of genius hit me at once.
Maybe there was.
"Okay," I agreed. "I'll dig my cape out of the closet while you're gone."
"Good. But if you find a damsel in distress other than me, I'll cut your nuts off."
Winnie winked at me as Wes scooted out in front of her, carrying one of the last boxes. I hadn't slept at all this weekend, and I'd called in any favor ever created, but we were finally almost done implementing my plan to surprise my wife with the best of both worlds.
I'd spent way too much money to make it happen, and I'd had to bribe the homeowners with any future lottery winnings, but I'd managed to secure the house next door to Doreen and Harry. Having remembered the For Sale sign the last time Charlotte had dragged me down the block for a longing look, I'd gotten directly on the phone with their real estate agent the minute my wife had stepped over the airline threshold headed for Rochester.
I'd come in high immediately, knowing I didn't have time for back-and-forth bullshit, and secured the deal nearly instantly. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough incentive on its own to get them to leave in a weekend's worth of time, so I'd had to sweeten the pot. The cost of moving, plus closing, plus real estate fees, plus free brain surgery for life-just in case.
"I can't believe you convinced these people to get out so quickly," Winnie said, and I shrugged.
"I'm just charming, I guess."
She fucking shouted her laugh in my face. "Yeah, okay. Lucky, maybe."
Just then, Remy pushed his way through me, literally, with a sharp-edged box in hand, to make his way down the stairs. But he was there. And he was helping. I counted that as a win.
"Now, that," Winnie muttered. "That I don't know how you pulled off."
I shrugged. "He hated me before, and he still hates me now."
"Yeah, but he's helping you through the rage. That's a breakthrough."
I laughed. "I don't know. Charlotte apparently ran into him one day before we got back together. She said he was pretty accepting of the whole thing."
"Or he's just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."
"Jesus, Win." I looked over my shoulder to see Remy mean mugging me as he walked into the house next door. "Why do you have to do me like that?"
She smiled. "Because it's fun. When's Charlotte supposed to get back, anyway?"
"Any minute."
"And how are you getting her here?"
"I told her Doreen and Harry are cooking dinner." Considering Charlotte was under the impression I'd given her tenants the official "get the fuck out" boot while she'd been in Rochester, she most likely thought it was a last big comfort food hurrah sort of thing.
But obviously, being the good husband I was, I had an ace up my sleeve.
"Perfect." Winnie's smile turned conspiratorial.
The entirety of our weird little family huddled into the house next door with the lights turned out, we watched as Charlotte pulled up to her house in a cab, grabbed her suitcase, paid the driver, and climbed out.
Doreen squealed a little as Charlotte turned to the dark house and frowned, and then turned back to find the cab already gone.
Hesitantly, she moved forward and knocked on the door, waiting for a Harry and Doreen that would never come.
When she moved back down the stairs and pulled her phone from her bag, I walked out of the front door of our compound. The house next door.
My first official rental property, and Harry and Doreen's new home.
Charlotte looked to me quickly without paying much mind, but as her brain caught up to the cues of her sight, her gaze jerked back.
"Nick?"
"Hey, sweetheart."
"What … what are you doing inside that house?"
I smiled and shrugged innocently. "Harry and Doreen's for dinner, remember?"
"But … "
Her eyebrows pinched together, and her hair flew as she swung her head back to her house and then to me again. "Doreen and Harry's … "
"I superheroed it, Char. We've got a place, and so do Doreen and Harry. Right next door. I'm thinking we won the neighbor lottery, aren't you?"
"Nick," she whispered.
"I'm hoping this means better things for my nuts, baby."
Down with a thump, her bag hit the concrete and her body hit my own.
"Happy to be lawfully bound to me?" I asked cheekily.
"Always," she cried. "Always."
Thanks to Nick, I was finally enjoying the "moving week" I'd been dreaming about since I'd won this home at the sheriff's auction.