Page 25 of Season's Schemings
“Yeah… but don’t worry, nothing happened.”
“I wasn’t even worrying about that until you said it!” He throws a pair of balled-up socks at me, and I’m too slow and hungover to even try to stop them bouncing off my head. “You, my friend, are a class A idiot.”
Great. Now he’s actually calling me an idiot.
Maybe because I am one.
“I know. And I just…” I trail off. How do I say that I woke up this morning feeling like death warmed up, sprawled out on one side of a California King bed, while my new freaking bride snored softly on the other, a piece of cheese pizza bent over her neck like a scarf?
Bit by bit, I started to put together the pieces of last night: the crazy drunken proposal in the hotel bar. Maddie actually sayingyes, her eyes hazy and glowing. The two of us running around Vegas like a pair of absolute lunatics because Maddie wanted something old, new, borrowed and blue to make it “official.”
I remember buying her a vintage sapphire engagement ring from a pawn shop on the Strip—the only store selling jewelry that was open at that hour—to check off the new, old and blue boxes at once (how in the hell do they allow people in our states of drunkenness to purchase expensive things?!). And I remember Maddie laughing ‘til she cried when I stole a traffic cone and swore I’d return it later, for our borrowed item.
We rushed into a little white chapel which was filled withwaytoo much pink inside (I’m talking pink curtains, pink flowers, even the carpet down the aisle was pink), signed the papers, and minutes later, Elvis pronounced us man and wife.
And then, the fleeting skim of her lips on mine… my stomach fizzes (not unpleasantly, given my current state) at the memory.
That, at least, feels warm and fuzzy.
The rest feels like a fever dream sequence from a bad movie. A bad movie that I’ve gone and dragged a sweet, unsuspecting woman into. Turns out that “harmless” flirting is not so harmless, in that it can net you a brand-new wife.
“I guess I feel weird about it all,” I finish.
Mal’s jaw is working, clenching, as he takes in all this information. At least he isn’t processing it all through a pounding whiskey hangover headache. “Well,” he says eventually. “That’s actually kinda sweet. I didn’t think you had feelings aboutanything, save for hockey.”
I sigh and push my hair back. “I don’t, usually. But last night, I was so pissed off, I wanted to find a solution. ANY solution. I didn’t even think through the implications of this; how badly this could go forherif we get found out. Obviously, the whiskey didn’t exactly help with making a judgment call.”
Mal’s lips quirk a little. “Wow. He has feelingsandhe’s worrying about someone else.”
I throw the balled up socks back at Mal. He catches them easily. “Guess an old dog can learn new tricks?”
Mal chucks his socks to the side and then nods his head, his eyes turned towards the window where the rapidly rising sun is making my entire head feel like it might explode. Could also be because I’m facing the consequences of the insanely crazy thing I did last night. A little head explosion might serve me right.
Finally, the captain leans forward, his jaw set. “Look, man. This is insane, but it happened. For better or for worse, you’re married right now. Of course I want you to play, and I assume Maddie had her reasons for going along with it.”
I screw my eyes up, considering this. From what I gleaned last night, we made this arrangement with the intention to benefit usboth. Strictly business, so she could get payback and I could keep playing hockey.
And as long as I keep it straight—AKA stop noticing how cute and/or hot Maddie is, and instead focus solely on what’s really important here, and what my goal is (that being hockey)—maybe this will all be fine.
“She did,” I reply, then clear my throat. “Last night, she did…”
He frowns. “Well, if she feels like she made a drunken mistake this morning, pretty sure you guys can get the whole thing annulled—no harm, no foul.” Malachi stares at me quizzically. “Haveyou talked to her about it in the light of day? Where is this wife of yours, anyway?”
Wife of mine. Woah, hearing the words is gonna take some getting used to.
“Um, she was still asleep when I left to come here.”
At this, Mal stands up, walks over to me, and smacks me upside the head.
“Ouch!” I protest.
“You left her asleep by herself, in your room, to wake upalone?”
My eyes widen as my soggy brain finally clues in. I left Maddie by herself, in a random room in Vegas, after a full evening of shenanigans together that resulted in our nuptials. Shenanigans which were completely insane. But also… I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in my entire life as I did last night.
And I might not know my new wife very well, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have left me to wake up alone today. “Well, when you put it like that…”
He smacks me again. “Go!”