“But the question is, do you want to be married to me?”
“I think I’ve already answered that question, but here’s another. What is the policy about employees marrying each other?” Shit, how had I not thought of that? Usually, I thought of my job first and everything else second. At least I had before Lucah.
“I don’t think it would go over very well. There are people who were married already who work there, but I don’t think we could both be working and then get married. The Board would probably throw a hissy fit.”
“Well, it’s really none of their f**king business,” he said.
“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I sat back down and put the notes and my pen on the table and picked up another container that had fried rice in it.
“Sorry, I’m just a little pissed about the whole shady thing they’re trying to pull over on Walter.”
“Anything new on that?”
“Not really. They’re currently fighting about who should be his replacement when they get rid of him. So this whole thing might implode and never even go anywhere. They also have to get enough stockholders together in favor of letting him go, and that’s not going well either.”
“That would be great. It’s hard being in the same room with them now that I know. I just want to smack all of their faces and scream at them and then throw them out of the building. That’s my fantasy.” I indulged it for a moment. It was such a shame because there were some men on the board that I actually liked, and I’d known most of them for my entire life. But you don’t f**k with my family. You do that and you’re on my shit list forever.
“That would be nice.” I didn’t know how we’d gone from talking about marriage to talking about punching the members of the Board of Directors, but I felt a lot better than I did a few hours ago. We didn’t have to talk about marriage and babies and all of that at once. It could be an ongoing conversation. And I also had to let go and trust Lucah and trust what we had together. Why was it harder to trust in something good than something bad?
After we finished our food, Lucah gave me a foot massage that led to us having sex, just once, before we both fell asleep on the couch amidst the Chinese food containers and sticky notes.
“So you want him to propose?” Sloane said the next day as we were getting our pedicures. I told her about my sudden need to discuss marriage and babies with Lucah and how the conversation had turned out.
“No. I just wanted to know that was where we were heading. Eventually. We’d never talked about it, and it felt like time that we should. That’s all.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against the massage chair so it could hit the back of her neck. Her voice vibrated when she spoke. “That makes sense. I’m actually surprised you haven’t talked about it until now.”
“I know. I just don’t think marriage is as important as it was for my parents’ generation.” My mother would gasp if she heard me talking like this, but she’d raised me this way. She couldn’t teach me that I was strong and didn’t need a man and turn around and then expect me to put every energy into trying to land a man.
“Pft, marriage isn’t for everyone. Look at my family history. Not one single couple has stayed married. Everyone has at least one divorce under their belt. I think it’s considered a badge of honor now. Like, the more divorces you have, the higher you rank on the family totem pole. I never want to get married because I don’t want to get divorced.” This wasn’t the first I’d heard her say something like that.
Sloane’s past was rocky at best, and traumatic at worst. When we’d first met, she’d been so clingy I didn’t know if I could continue to be friends with her, but I’d stuck it out, and she got less clingy as she got older, and, like Lucah, now I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She’d also practically been adopted into my family and my parents adored her. I thought that was what she was really looking for. A real family. Someone to take her in, to love her unconditionally because her own blood relatives had done a shitty job of it.
“But I definitely think you should get married so I can make your wedding dress.”
“Obviously you’re going to make it. Why would you think I’d go anywhere else and be subjected to the horrors of a dress off the rack?” She shuddered as if I’d mentioned wearing dead animal carcass as my wedding dress.
“And I get to be maid of honor.”
“That’s another thing that’s a given. Who else would I get? You’re the closest thing I have to a sister.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. She opened her eyes and turned her head so she was looking at me.
“Yeah. You’re more of a sister than any of my real ones. By the way, if you really want to picture your dress, I’ve got sketches. I made them when you and Lucah started getting serious. You can see them anytime you want.” She returned the squeeze and then let go.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that. But it’s good to know they’re available if I want to look at them.” Sloane changed the subject, because she knew I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
We talked, as friends do, about random things that had nothing to do with anything as we got our toes, and then our fingers, done and we headed for a couple’s massage.
“Are you sure you’re into the marriage thing, because this is pretty f**king romantic, Rory,” she said as we lay down on the tables, with just towels covering us. Between the candles, the New Age music and the feel of someone’s warm hands, it was. It also reminded me a little bit of the massage Lucah gave me and I had to shut down those naughty thoughts before I got carried away.
“Oh, I’d marry you, baby,” I said, reaching out and grabbing her hand.
“I’d totally marry you, too.” The two women giving us the massages were silent as Sloane and I bantered back and forth. They’d probably heard much worse before.
We got dressed and headed down to the café in the spa for brunch.
“All this crap is healthy,” Sloane said, glaring at the menu as if it had offended her personally.
“I think it’s because you’re not supposed to get a massage and steam all the impurities out of your pores and then eat a heart attack on a bun, covered with cheese, Sloane. Plus, this is fancy food. You like fancy food.” I scanned the menu and I had to admit, it was pretty . . . healthy. And not the good kind of healthy. We were talking wheat grass and tofu omelets. I finally found some oatmeal that had fruit and nuts in it, and a cup of herbal tea. Sloane bitched and moaned and finally got the same thing.