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kate
. . .
For a fake bride,there's a surprising amount to do. Or maybe it only feels that way because we're trying to keep everything on the down-low.
It's not like we can march over to City Hall and get married by the mayor. We can't ask Damien's friend who's a notary to perform the ceremony. And it's even dicey to cross the bridge to the mainland and pop in to the court clerk's office.
Everyone knows us, or at the least our parents. This forces a near-state secret level of intrigue about everything we do.
Hey. I'm headed to Tampa today, going to meet up with some guys stationed at MacDill, Damien texts me one morning, right as I'm waking up. We hadn't seen each other the previous night because he was out with his brother and some friends. He'd hesitated on whether to go, wanting to spend time with me.
I encouraged him, even though I knew I'd miss his presence. Even if I was his real wife, I'm not the jealous type. Hell, I wish I had friends here so I could go out. But if I actually had friends, it's not like I'd even be able to hang out; I'm at the bar most nights.
Okay, have fun, I peck out. Tampa's two hours away.See you tonight. Or tomorrow.
I set the phone near my pillow and close my eyes, hoping to get another hour of sleep.
My phone pings again, and my eyes snap open as I read.
I'm going to stop by the county office there to get a copy of the thing. I think it's far enough away that no one will recognize me.
The first thing or the second thing?I giggle out loud. He's referring to the marriage license application.
The only thing, babe.
My mouth goes dry. It's as if I sometimes forget that I'm getting married.
I flop on my back, staring at his message.
"It says herethat we both have to show ID at the court office." I squint at the fine print on the application.
Damien and I are at the bar, and it's an hour after closing. We're the only ones here, and we've filled out our portions of the application—him in blocky, black ink, and me in curly blue cursive.
"There's a three-day waiting period, or we can take an online marital course to skip all that," he reads aloud while rubbing my back.
I chuckle.
He pulls out his phone and taps on the screen.
"Here we go. Florida Online Pre-Marital Course. We get $25 off the marriage license fee if we take it. Check this out. Lesson one: change is inevitable."
He shows me the website. It's filled with photos of beautiful couples running on beaches with dogs.
"That could be us with Chunky." I point at the screen.
Damien guffaws.
"Why don't we take this course? Then we can show up atthe county building, submit the form, and get married right then and there." he says. "We could even probably knock out the class tomorrow online in our hotel room."
"Jesus, it's so soon," I whisper. "Are we in a rush?"
"Kate. Look. If you don't want to get married, maybe we can figure something else out. I can pay for your health insurance. Or pay in cash for your medical treatments."
My stomach plummets several floors. "Somehow that seems even more like pity."
Now I'm forced to wonder if he's having second thoughts about this crazy plan. Of course he's having second thoughts. Why would he go to these lengths for me?
He takes a swig of beer. "I'm going to tell you again. This isn't about pity. Every day you go uninsured makes me nervous. That's why I think we should do this as soon as possible. I'm worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you."
