The Marriage Contract (31 page)

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Authors: Tara Ahmed

BOOK: The Marriage Contract
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              “This is why short women wear heels,” he whispered, his lips hovering over my neck. “You should buy a pair.”

              Feeling my temper boil, I stomped on his foot, satisfied as he yelped, hopping back like a wounded kangaroo. Thrusting my bag out of the compartment, I turned towards him, slapping the firm black purse against his shoulder.

              “You’re such an infuriating jerk!” I yelled. “Just stay away from me!”

              He groaned, shooting me an angry glare, as I turned away from him, jogging towards the exit.

              “You’re not so pleasant yourself,” he called. “Geez, I think you broke my arm!”

**

              I took quick steps past the entry of the airport, the Ohio sun blaring into my neck, as I dragged my suitcase behind me. Nervously, I looked to the side, and back, afraid that Richard was following. After I’d attacked him with my purse in the plane, to my relief, he’d vanished. A part of me wondered whether he took the returning flight back to New York, but my common sense told me otherwise.

              Richard was still here, and he wasn’t going to leave without a fight. 

As I neared the wide exit doors of the airport, my mind pondered on a thousand questions regarding Richard. For one thing, I couldn’t understand why he was going through all the trouble following me here. I mean, what did he have to gain?

              As I pondered about Richard’s possible motive, the fresh burst of air streamed into my lungs, as I inhaled the Ohio gust. Crowds of souls passed by, lovers walking hand in hand, and everyone, heading into their cars, their eyes pulsed with glee.

              While I searched for a taxi, my palm gripped over the handle of my worn luggage, a familiar face caught my eye.

              I almost screamed from joy, as Uncle Jeffrey stood at the farther corner of the airport exit, holding a name card against his chest. The card read “Mrs. Dory Bellevue” in crooked red cursive, stark against a small rectangular board, as my uncle stared passively at the crowd, searching for me.

              I smiled, amused that he hadn’t yet cut the jerry curl hairstyle he’d kept for over twenty years. The bright red of his hair appeared shinier than an apple, as the wind struck his locks to the side, over his sturdy shoulder. Uncle Jeffrey was a tall man, about six feet five, with a chubby build, as his belly protruded out of his plaid white shirt. His skin, ripe as a peach, flushed pink- his rugged hands brushing a trickle of sweat off his faint rosy brow.

              “Uncle Jeffrey!” I yelled from the center of the crowd, as a few heads turned to eye me speculatively.

              Ignoring their scrutiny, I ran towards my uncle, dragging the suitcase behind me. He turned his head to the side, still unable to spot me, but when I was five feet apart from him, his sky blue eyes lit with warmth.

              “My little darlin’ is back,” he cheered.

              My eyes glazed, as we ran towards each other, before he scooped me into his arms like he would when I was small. His warm arms curled over me, as he lifted me high, staring up at me with a wide grin spread across his jolly face.

              “Did you miss me?” I asked, ruffling the top of his hair.

              “You bet I did. We all did. Dory, it’s been over two years since you’ve been back. I’d say, you’re the one who didn’t miss us—”

              “Well, you can’t miss the ones that’ll never leave,” I smiled. “And I know you’ll always be with me. And, can you put me down? People are staring.”

              His puffy cheeks flushed pink, as he placed me down. Clearing his throat dramatically, he shot me another grin, before taking my luggage.

              I placed my hand over his on the handle of the luggage, giving my head a slight shake.

              “That’s alright,” I told him. “I’m a big girl now. I can put the luggage in the car myself. But wait, how did you know I was going to be here? I hadn’t told anyone I was coming—”

              Uncle Jeffrey pulled his hand away, scooping the luggage a foot above the air, and turned, heading down the half empty street. The sun cast a bright glow over the sandy pavement, as people walked towards the rows of parked cars, mostly trucks and large SUV’s.

              I frowned, jogging up to his fast stride, as he made his way to his old, navy blue pickup truck.

              “You ain’t a big girl, unless you lose all your teeth,” he informed, shooting me a sideways grin. “And what in the world has gotten into you girl? The big city done mashed up your brains?”

              When we reached his car, he placed my luggage carefully at the corner edge of the car, walking towards the driver’s side. I stood there, my brows furrowed, as I watched him enter the car.

              Maybe it was the long flight that had slowed my mind, because I had not a clue what Uncle Jeffrey meant.

              “You gettin’ in, June bug?” He popped his head out of the car, staring expectantly at me.

              “Um…yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “I think I’m just fatigued from the flight.”

              There was a slow pounding in my heart that rose higher as I neared the passenger seat of the car. My throat suddenly felt dry, my thirst quenching, as I took careful steps towards the door. On the back seat of the car, I stared through the closed, tinted windows, squinting, as if trying to spot a thief.

              “Come on, we ain’t got all day!” Uncle Jeffrey’s voice was light, almost musical, as I gripped the handle of the passenger side door, holding a breath, and thrusting it open.

              It was empty.

              I smiled, exhaling a deep breath of relief, before stepping inside, and closing the door.

              Oh, thank goodness!

              “Why, hello there, June Bug.” The deep, familiar voice drifted from behind, as though rising from the clouds, as I turned, gaping in horror, at Richard.

              He sat at the back seat, his long legs spread apart, as he leaned against the soft brown leather as though my uncle’s car were his living room.

              “You?” I accused. “What the—”

              “Surprise!” said Uncle Jeffrey.

              I snapped my head from my uncle, to Richard, and then back to my uncle, my head beginning to throb.

              “What’s going on?” I demanded. “What are you doing here?”

              Richard pouted in a childish way, giving my uncle a sad look, as though teasing me. I glared at him, hoping my eyes could somehow shoot venom from my pupils to his face, murdering him on the spot.

              “Don’t you yell at my nephew in law,” Uncle Jeffrey scolded. “He told me you two had a soft of dispute, and you weren’t allowing him to participate in this year’s carnival, and I just couldn’t have that—“

              “What? Nephew in law?” I snapped. “Wait, what? I’m seriously extremely confused! When did he tell you this? And--”

              “Oh, don’t be so lost…June bug,” said Richard. “Remember you gave me all your relatives’ phone numbers…for emergency, of course. Don’t you remember?”

              A mischievous glint cloaked over his eyes, as Uncle Jeffrey started the car, driving down the parking lot, heading towards the highway.

              My eyes drifted to the ceiling of the car, as I tried to remember what he was referring to. Richard had somehow managed to get my relatives’ numbers, but the question was, how?

              Come on, Dory…think…think!

              The light bulb hovering over my mind, flashed, as I turned my eyes back to Richard, not believing that he’d do such a disgusting thing.

              He had gone through my phone!

My head sped a marathon, as I recalled forgetting my purse in Richard’s apartment that awful day that he’d confessed his undying creepiness towards me.

              I shivered.

              Though I knew Richard was a treacherous slime ball, I didn’t think he’d actually go through my phone, calling my folks back home, and telling them we’d make it to the carnival. But, that meant that he’d been planning this trip for the longest time, which meant that James had told him about Aunt Molly and the carnival.

              But…he’d taken a huge risk. I mean, what if James said that he changed his mind and wanted to go to the carnival? Because if James decided to go, that meant that Richard couldn’t go, and…

              It felt as though a piano had fallen from the sky to my skull, as I leaned back against the car, groaning.

              “Something wrong, June bug?” Richard asked.

              “Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “If you don’t shut up, I swear, I’ll throw you out of this truck and you’ll get eaten by a swarm of snakes!”

              “That really hurts,” he said, frowning.

              I scoffed. “Stop pretending! You’re a total psychopath! I have no idea what you plan to do here, but I suggest you leave! Uncle Jeffrey, please stop this car—”

              “Dorothy Rufula Web Bellevue.” Uncle Jeffrey’s voice took on a low tone, as he stared crossly at me. “Now, I don’t know what you two kids are fighting about, but if you keep yelling at the poor guy like this, it’s only going to make things worse! Now, he came all the way here to meet us. That means he cares for you, and he cares for us! Isn’t that right, James?”

             
James?

              I stared hopelessly at Uncle Jeffrey. “But he’s not—”

              Richard shook his head, as though warning me not to continue what I was about to say. Glaring at him, I decided that for once, he was right. But when a sly smirk spread across his lips, I scowled at him.

              “What’s so funny?” I questioned.

              “Nothing,” he replied. “Just that I love your middle name…Rufula…it has a nice ring to it—“

              “Leave my middle name alone,” I snapped.

              He shrugged. “Whatever you say…Rufula.”

              I groaned, biting my tongue, for my anger towards his silliness wasn’t worth it. Why should I get worked up by his immature jokes? That infuriating jerk.

              Chewing the bottom edge of my lip, I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing that I had no other option than to wait until we got home to figure out what the next move should be. I mean, if I suddenly declared that the person in the back seat was James’s twin, it would create a huge problem, resulting in Uncle Jeffrey beating the crap out of Richard for lying to him, which would then result in Uncle Jeffrey getting sued for all he was worth. Which wasn’t much, to be frank.

              Knowing Richard, he wouldn’t let anyone hit him without facing the consequences.

              The sounds of an acoustic guitar strummed through the radio, as Uncle Jeffrey sang along the lyrics to the country song, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel.

              “You’ve got great taste in music,” said Richard, staring at my uncle with a pleasant smile across his lips. “I love Grant Philips songs. He really sings from the soul, doesn’t he?”

              I scoffed, my eyes rolling at Richard’s lie- my hands clenching and unclenching over my lap. I squeezed the fabric of my skirt in such a way, that when I released my hold, the soft material crinkled like a crushed leaf over my thighs.

              “Really?” I challenged, glaring at him through my side view mirror. “Then name me your five favorite songs from his album. Oh, and it has to be the 2007 album, not the latest one.”

              Richard placed a hand against his neck, raising both brows, as though surprised. I stared coldly at him, as he dropped his gaze to his lap. I smiled, happy that he looked confused, and ultimately, humiliated before my uncle.

              “Don’t give the boy a hard time,” Uncle Jeffrey scolded. “He probably doesn’t listen to old folk’s music. James, here, was only being nice—“

              “Desert Sky, Never Leave Me, Hold My Scar, Kiss Me Now, Today I’m Yours.” Richard’s voice pierced through the small space of the truck, as I turned, snapping my head to his.

              Uncle Jeffrey’s thin lips spread to a wide grin, as he slapped a hand against the steering wheel.

              “Damn, our taste matches like a glove and ball!” roared Uncle Jeffrey. “I thought you young folk didn’t listen to music from the older generation. But boy, you sure did surprise me, and few people ever do.”

              I stared hopelessly at Uncle Jeffrey, before shooting an angry glare towards Richard, who simply shook his shoulders.

              That scam artist!

              “I’m glad,” said Richard. “By the way, do you mind if I call you ‘uncle’?”

              My eyes widened.

              “Yes, he does mind!” I snapped.

              Uncle Jeffrey shot me an annoyed stare, shaking his head as though I were a bratty child.

              “Don’t answer for me, Dory,” he said. “And James, you never had to ask.”

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