Dr. Neurotic(40)

"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.