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And then I remember what he said last night. About how if this is real, even if it’s temporary, then who can argue our claim?
“Oh my God! Well, that diamond sure as hell looks real!” she screeches and reaches for my left hand. “This is the diamond you get for getting the man a green card? Does he have any Canadian friends?” she teases, her eyes as wide as saucers staring down at the ring on my hand.
I almost took it off last night, but I was sort of worried that if I took it off, I’d lose it.
“I know… it’s too big, isn’t it?”
“Uh, no ma’am. It’s freaking perfect. Honestly, this whole thing is perfect.”
“Don’t start that again—”
“Juliet… I’m serious. The man looked like he was proposing for real.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. He mentioned divorce plenty last night so he doesn’t have ‘til death’ on his mind,” I tell her, bringing the straw up to my lips again.
“What else did you talk about? Did you tell him you’re worried about getting caught?” she asks.
I wish she hadn’t asked that question. When I tell her what he said, it only encourages her more. But I’m a horrible liar, and she knows my lies.
“He said that a marriage based on encouraging one another and mutual respect is a real marriage. And he doesn’t want either of us to see other people during our two-year marriage due to the tabloids.”
Shawnie’s face almost looks like I pushed pause. She’s staring back at me with a wide grin and she hasn’t blinked.
“I freaking knew it,” she cackles, slapping her hand on her knee. “
“You don’t know anything,” I say, taking another sip and glancing off at my tv across the room.
“So when are you two getting hitched,” she asks.
“We have an interview tomorrow morning with the immigration officer. Once he signs off, we’ll go down to the courthouse.”
“The courthouse? You’re a wedding planner. There’s no way I’m letting you get away with a courthouse wedding. What kind of terrible friend would I be?”
“We don’t have much of a choice. We have to do this soon and honestly…”
“Honestly what?” she asks.
“I know I hate my dad and it’s not like I’d ask him to walk me down the aisle. And my mom is about ready to kill me and dump my body in Puget Sound for marrying a professional athlete. She’s refusing to come.”
“She said that? She actually said that she won’t come. Even though you’re doing this all for Jerrin?”
Shawnie’s reaction to being appalled by my mother’s reaction gives me a little vindication that my mom is overreacting about this.
“She thinks he’s going to ruin my life, but he’s only getting two years of it. How much damage could he do?”
She studies me for a moment and I don’t like that look. That’s a look from a best friend who knows your deepest darkest demons.
“Are you worried he’s going to hurt you?” she asks.
“No… why would I. We have to stay together for two years for him to get his green card. Then, I’m out as fast as the ink dries on our divorce papers—clear-cut rules.” I say, barely registering what I unconsciously admitted to her.
I try to distract by bending towards the coffee table and setting my half-drunk coffee cup on the white-washed wooden furniture in front of us.
“Bingo,” she says, raising a finger into the air. “Out before the ink dries. Why does that sound like exactly how you’d react?”
“Oh shut it, you know nothing,” I say, shaking my head at her.
I hate when she tries to connect my “daddy issues” with the reason why I’m still single at twenty-eight years old.
