Seeing Red(4)

Maybe she was right, but… “Carla, it’s just that I’m not used to leaving him with anyone. He didn’t last a week in preschool at age three, and he’s always so high-energy at playdates, I was too mortified to ask the moms to babysit. I know he’s a handful.”

“Hey, what good is having friends if they’re not your village? I’ll treat him like one of my own kids. Trust me. Nothing he can do is going to shock me, and if he does somehow manage to stun me, I’m not going to judge you for it.”

Tears prickled at the corners of Meg’s eyes and she wiped them away before they could track down her face. “I’m glad you’re home, Carla. Besides Sharon, there hasn’t really been anyone around with all my family being up north.”

“I understand what you’re feeling. Went through it in Ireland for a while, not having a network besides Grant’s dad. Took some time, but finally, I had to start taking those ladies in the village up on their offers of help. First couple of months after Jill was born were hard on all of us with her colic and being tongue-tied. If it weren’t for those ladies taking Adam and Emma to the park and bringing us meals, I might have had more than that one meltdown. People aren’t supposed to be their kids’ one and everything. It’s stupid to even try.”

Meg padded across the shiny, dark wood floor and zipped Sharon’s earrings into her jewelry pouch. “So I’ve discovered. Listen, if he—”

“Get some sleep,” Carla interrupted again. “Or go for a walk on the beach, now that the rain has stopped. Have a fruity drink. Go down to the spa for a massage. Whatever. Go do something for yourself while you have the chance.”

“Maybe…” Meg set the phone’s base back on the nightstand. “Maybe I’ll go have a drink in the cabana.”

Carla chuckled quietly on her end. “Might as well get your money’s worth since it comes with the room, although I imagine most folks do far more salacious things behind those curtains.”

“Yeah, well, there’s the issue of me having no one to do those salacious things with.”

“I could think of one man in particular who would be glad to volunteer. And it wouldn’t even be a sin.”

Meg rubbed her palm against her closed eyes and groaned. “Are you seriously condoning this? What has gotten into you and Sharon?”

“I’m not condoning anything, although I do think you need to let your hair down, figuratively speaking. So, you have sex with a guy you’re technically married to. Are you really going to feel guilty about that next week or next month? Just be upfront about it.”

Meg stepped into the simple black flip-flops she’d discarded earlier at the bedside and rolled her tight shoulders. Guilty? No, not that. Chagrined? Possibly. Maybe even a bit resentful toward Seth for going along with it. What was he getting out of this thing, anyway, if not a green card? Perhaps she should have asked before signing on that dotted line.

* * * *

Seth didn’t often find himself questioning his sanity. He’d done a lot of stupid shit in life, but for the first time, he worried he’d gone too far.

Sharon had promised not even a year ago that she’d find the cure to his lonely heart problem, so when she’d dropped in on him at work—which wasn’t near her home by any stretch of the imagination—and offered to buy him lunch, naturally he’d been suspicious. But then, over empanadas, she’d dropped the bomb on him: Meg needed a stand-in husband.

He’d asked, “What’s that got to do with me?”

Sharon had blinked like a coquette and wore a grin Satan himself couldn’t have matched. “Don’t you see, big boy?” she’d said. “This is your in. An all-access pass to prickly Meggie.”

“Why would I torture myself that way?”

“Come on, you’re a scientist. Can’t you see the potential? Sure, maybe it’ll start out as a charade, but you’ll get to spend some time together, and maybe you can charm her.”

“Me?” He’d laughed. Charming, he was not. Charm was something men like Grant and Curt had, and he’d always envied them for it. They had the kind of swagger with which they could seize attention from nearby women without even looking at them. As for him, he was lucky if women didn’t run off shrieking. That had happened once, but maybe that had more to do with his bald head and the villain beard he’d had at the time than his size.

“Do you trust me?” Sharon had asked.

He’d said “yes” without having to think about it. Sharon believed in true love, and if she thought this was his means to it, he’d give it a shot.