Page 65 of Almost Not Quite Engaged
-Squire
Liesel is typing away and Bill is shoveling his breakfast down. We leave in a couple of hours for the airport. Hong Kong is just the stop before Dhaka.
“What if I want to tell her how runny these gross ass eggs are because I find it funny. 3ish weeks later those runny eggs won’t be funny.”
“Thought she was fake?” Liesel doesn’t look up.
“She’s real, you met her. She’s a person who I have an agreement with but deep-seated distaste for. But she’s funny and we’re writing postcards about our worlds so when the parents ask about the other one we have something to say.”
Liesel reaches into her bag. “Make that shit up.”
I grab her chin and make her look at me. “No. What if I talked to my Mom and she contradicts something.”
Bill points at me and grunts.
“See, he gets it. Your husband is on my side.”
“It’s too fucking complicated. This whole thing is ridiculous.”
“Do you want to get paid?”
She smiles over her laptop at me. “I meant it’s really a solid and intelligent plan. Thanks for taking one for the team.” What I’d like to do is keep giving her one for the team. My fake fiancée is a fucking sack demon.
“You’re worried about the joke dying in transit? Or your mother thinking your stories conflict.” Liesel raises an eyebrow.
I wildly flail my arms around. “Having a crisis. Pay attention.”
“Oh, my god. Do you understand our lighting package is missing and we still don’t have permission to shoot at that damn temple. And now I have to do research on trees because that’s what we’re going to pivot to. And I’m worried that trees won’t be enough to captivate or give you something to do on camera. So, I don’t fucking care if your fake crush doesn’t get a postcard in time for you to bitch about your breakfast.”
Silence falls over the table and she taps away at her computer again. “You could care a little,” I add.
I sip my coffee knowing I’m being ridiculous. I’ve written her 4 postcards. One from the airport, one from Hong Kong’s airport. One from the hotel and now one from breakfast. I have a problem. I like talking to her. I usually talk so much I annoy people, but since she’s already annoyed by me, I can talk as much as I like. And she likes to talk a lot too.
I scribble a bit more about the toast being from a week ago and sign it. I look around to see if there’s a waiter who can mail it, but instead I tuck it into my jacket pocket. Where the hell am I mailing these cards? Her mom’s house?
Bill, who barely speaks before three pm says, “Get a website, or open a blog, password protect it. Post to each other whenever you like. It wouldn’t have real time interaction but it would significantly cut down on the delivery time. Ergo she’d hear about your egg bitching the same day.”
He forks a giant piece of fruit into his mouth and Liesel looks up and kisses his cheek. Then she pats his arm and they both sigh like they’ve had an entire conversation.
“What? How does that happen? Who can I call about something like this?”
“I’ll start building it on the flight but it might take a couple of days to get it all together.”
I pump my arms up in the air.
Bill adds, “If you do the tree research.”
“Fine.”
Chapter 31
Talk to Wall
KAT
Rhinebeck
Today’s for unpacking, emotional and literal. After I exhaust his now-blocked Instagram account, I search for my fauxancé’s show. I’ve seen it but now it hits differently. I abandon downloading my new pictures and pull it up on my laptop.
