A Little Change Of Plans. Jen Safrey
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an interview?”
“At the very last second,” Molly said shakily. “By the time I pulled myself together and made my decision, it was nearly six o’clock. I think I caught the HR director as she was leaving for the day. I hope I didn’t sound too desperate.”
“You’re not desperate.”
“The hell I’m not.”
“You’re not. Desperate people are people without resources. You have plenty of those. You have your brains, your résumé, your references…and me.”
“Oh, you, huh? You work for Gibraltar Foods, which has nothing to do with what I do. And besides, you don’t even care about work. You’re not much help to me right now. No offense.”
“Listen,” he said, “you’re a woman, and although in this day and age you could certainly change that, you don’t want to. And you’re pregnant, and that’s not changing, either. But one element of your situation is changeable, flexible. Masqueradeable.”
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about your being single. Why does anyone have to know that? Just during your big meeting, casually mention your devoted husband, Adam Shibbs.”
“What?” She pitched the word so high, she sounded like one of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
“Just tell the chem company honcho that you happen to be married. I’ll give you a ride from the interview and you can say your husband’s picking you up.”
“Adam, that’s not going to work. I appreciate the innovation behind the idea, but this place will undoubtedly do a background check. Then not only will I be exposed as single, but a big old liar on top of that.”
Adam blew a breath out from his bottom lip, and he felt the air on the tip of his nose. “So get married.”
Molly laughed an unamused, sharp laugh. “Oh, sure, no problem. Let me just run out right now and grab a man off the street.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Adam said, his heart beginning to pound a little faster even as his own words were falling out of his mouth. “I told you, you have resources, and I’m one of them.”
His heart was shocked at the decision his brain had made so hastily. Or, maybe his heart had made the decision without any brain input. Either way, Adam was not all together. He couldn’t be, or his ears wouldn’t have just heard his mouth say what it said.
There was an extended silence. Before Adam could use the empty time to question his own wisdom, before he could remind himself that Molly was precisely the kind of woman he could never make this sort of monumental decision with, he said, “I do believe this is literally a pregnant pause.”
“I’m just trying to take the time I need to make sure I did not misunderstand you,” Molly answered slowly.
“I apologize for not being totally clear,” Adam said. “What I meant to say was, let’s get married.”
He thought at first that the thud in his ear was his conscience trying to beat some sense into his skull.
A half moment later, he realized it was the loud echo of Molly’s abrupt disconnection.
Molly stared wide-eyed at the phone lying on the ground next to the wall, where she’d flung it as if it had spontaneously combusted next to her ear.
A second later, she scrambled over to snatch it off the floor and dialed Adam’s number. “Oops,” she said when he answered on the first half ring. “I, uh, I dropped the phone.” She shrugged one shoulder as if he could see it in his apartment twenty miles away.
“Of course.”
“So I missed the rest of your joke.”
“What joke?”
“You—you said, ‘Let’s get marr-marr—’” Molly cleared her throat. “You said—”
“Let’s get married.”
Hearing those words in Adam’s voice, did things as weird and foreign to her insides as the baby did. “Right, and then I hung up on the punch line.”
“There was no punch line.”
“Adam, can you cease and desist with the games right now? I had a hell of a day, and—”
“No games. I’m dead serious. We always said we’d marry each other anyway if we didn’t have better offers.”
Molly didn’t remind him that that agreement was supposed to go into effect when they turned thirty, and then in a semidrunken panic at his surprise party, they had mutually declared that pact null and void, at least until they hit forty.
What did it say about her that it was the closest she’d ever gotten to a marriage proposal? Well, until two minutes ago.
“Just for one year,” Adam went on. “The term of your job. What’s the big deal? Unless you have a boyfriend these days that I also have no idea about.”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t have a girlfriend at present. So I repeat, what’s the big deal? We’ll go to a justice of the peace, get married, you’ll get your great job, everyone’s happy.”
“What’ll you get out of it?”
He paused. “Helping you. We’re best friends. That’s my job.”
“This would have to be a serious secret,” Molly warned. “I mean, serious. I wouldn’t even tell my friends and neighbors the truth. I’m a terrible liar. If I tell one story to everyone, it’ll be easier.”
“Agreed.”
“Marry Adam Shibbs?” Molly mumbled. “Oh, that was meant to be internal dialogue,” she said, louder. “Sorry.”
“Hey,” he said, wounded. “I happen to know dozens of women who would love to marry me.”
“I’m sorry.” She paused. “I mean, we’d have to live together to keep this up. You’d have to live here.”
“You can come here, if you prefer.”
“No, there’s more room here and this is my—well, this is my house. I don’t want to be somewhere else. Especially while I’m pregnant.”
“Understood.”
“You’d be moving into my house,” she reiterated, and then she sank to the floor. She leaned her back against the wall and stretched her legs out in front of her. “We’re overlooking the small fact that we annoy the crap out of each other.”
“True. But I think this is important enough for us to compromise.”
“We can’t compromise our personalities, can we? For a whole year? We’re so different.” Which is why we’ve never even attempted to date, she added silently. Which is why we’re best friends.
Adam didn’t answer, and Molly realized he wouldn’t. He knew she could argue him into the ground on any point. So he’d rested his case, and it was now up to her.
Marry Adam?
It would be in name only. She knew he’d stick to the rules they set. But wasn’t marriage supposed to be something more, something about love?
She did love Adam. But not in the to-have-and-to-hold way. More like in the to-have-fun-and-to-hold-good-parties-with way. Right. She put a hand over her chest, felt the pounding of her heart. And that, that was merely because she was surprised.
It didn’t seem right to compromise on marriage. If she was ever going to bother taking this kind of step, it should be for the right, idealistic reasons.
“I can’t,” she finally said. “Adam, I can’t. Because you’re my friend, my real friend. Which