Chapter 7

Barry's turn:

Jess and I enjoying a beautiful day together. There was a small arts and crafts fair going on today. I normally pass these up but I'm with Jess and my priorities are skewed. I told her about it. "Interested?" I asked.

We'd just chosen a scented candle and were walking through the place when I heard a voice that raised the hair on the back of my neck.

"Well, hi, there! Look who it is!" spoken with the voice of the ex in one of her famous 'gotcha!' tones.

I looked toward the sound. Didn't want to look. Just really didn't want to mess with the woman. Every recent dealing had to do with how crappy a father I was for not being an open checkbook to Megan's constant failures to make her welfare money last until the end of the month, all the while posting pictures of her and her friends on Facebook partying, drinking, eating.

"Hello, Tracy," I said.

She stepped closer, eyed Jessica up and down. "You're one of Megan's friends, right? Didn't you come to the house with 'er a time or two?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jessica answered, smiling. "You remembered. That was a looong time ago."

"I can't remember your name, though. Introduce me to your friend, Barry."

"Tracy, this is Jessica. You said you'd already met her."

"Yeah ... Now I remember ... Y'all used to party pretty hard," she addressed Jess. "Uh ... I heard that Barry was dating one of Megan's friends..."

"Yeah ... that's kinda true," Jess answered, swinging our clasped hands in a not too subtle display.

"Another in a long line for you, ain't it, Jessica?" Tracy jabbed. I know the woman has a mouth on her. I didn't think she'd be so brazen, though. I started to say something.

Jessica beat me to it. "Last one. Barry's the final. The end. The one that none of those could beat..."

"He's kind of old for you, ain't he?"

"I knowwww," Jess said, shading her tone on the side of sarcasm. "We spend half the night tryin' to see how often forty-eight will go into twenty-four. Who knew he'd make math so much fun, right?"

Tracy's jaw dropped. I tried to stifle an outright guffaw.

Jess tugged my hand, wheeling around. Loudly enough for Tracy to hear, she said, "C'mon, baby. Let's go look at rings!"

And we left her standing there. Speechless. Standing there. I was amazed.

Once we had a safe distance, I burst out laughing. "We have to go pedestal shopping. I need to buy a big one to put you on. After THAT, you deserve it..."

"Oh, c'mon, baby," she said. "The woman divorced you. She thought she was going to waltz up and distribute a ration of shit just because you're with ME? And downtalk ME? Nope. Not the Jessica Spineti YOU got."

"You serious about the ring?"

"Would it be horrible of me?"

"Nope. After that showing, I'll buy you a car!"

"Nope. Just a simple little non-gaudy, not ostentatious, ring."

"You have a jeweler in mind? Have you ever looked?"

"Nope Not really. Never spent time with a guy I wanted to marry."

We went to a couple of jewelers. She looked, I looked, the salespeople cooed. One of the guys actually looked at me and said that the proper amount would be two months' salary.

Jessica skewered him. "His or mine?"

We left that place.

"Still no ring," I said.

"These people are crazy, Barry. The dude just basically said for you to spend sixteen K on a ring."

"I've heard the 'two months salary' thing before."

"No."

"No?"

"Absolutely not."

"But..." I started.

"I'm rethinking this. 'Engagement ring'. Are we engaged?" she asked as we got back in the car.

"Yeah."

"So it's a terminal condition of limited duration, right?"

"That's one way of putting it. Yes," I agreed.

"And when you marry me, we'll have wedding bands, right?"

"I would suppose. You get a set, the engagement ring and the matching wedding ring..."

"I despise that gaudy shit, Barry. Mom's got a ring on damn near every finger..."

"But you said..."

"Reality clarified my thinking."

"That fast? I mean, there are some that don't cost an arm and a leg."

"Barry," she said, placing her hand on my arm as I drove, "We sort of agreed we're getting married, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you envision a long engagement?"

"Not really. What kind of wedding do you want?"

"Kinda like that last engagement ring. NOT gaudy. When you 'n' Tracy got married, was it a big one?"

"No, not really. In a church. Her parents. Her family. Her friends. But no ten thousand dollar dress and five thousand dollar cake and six matching bridesmaids."

"Let's get simpler. Married. You. Me. How hard could it be?"

"Jess, I don't want to deprive you..."

"Oh, puh-leeeeeze! I quit believing that fairy tale crap when I was ten. I don't need to dress up like a princess for a day. You've been to that kind of wedding, I would imagine. I'm sure that if you didn't go voluntarily then Tracy hauled you off to one or two. It's the kind of thing I think she'd go for..."

"I've been to some."

"Okay, then. Truth. How many of 'em do you think the marriage lasted longer than paying off the bills?"

"Good point. But I distinctly heard 'ring'."

Giggle. "Brain fart. I popped off to have an impact on Tracy, for the most part. Uh ... I guess I was sort of testing YOU, too, Barry."

"Me?"

"Yeah ... sort of see if you're serious."

"You got keys to my HOUSE, Jess. How serious do I need to be?"

"I love you, Barry. It's a scary thing for me. I've never put myself out for that. Whole lot different than random banging, you know."

"We play for keeps here, Jess. You and me. And if that means fifteen thousand dollars worth of rings and your starring role in 'Princess for a Day', I'll do it."

"For me," she said. She looked down, then back up. "Barry, you're crazy. I'm not worth that."

"According to who, Jess? You're cute, you're smart ... What do you think I'm supposed to be looking for, here? Do you know something you're not telling me?"

"You know how I was. Tracy said it. I partied pretty hard. I wasn't a nice girl."

"Sorry. I don't know that version. I know the version that's sitting here with me right now. I trust you. Should I not?"

"No, but Barry..."

"What?"

"You won't wake up one day and think that you married a dumb little slut?"

"First, you're nowhere near dumb. Second, I don't think you're a slut."

"I was."

"I don't know that. Times change. Nowadays ... Oh, god, next thing I'll be telling all you kids to get off my lawn..."

"Barry, we're having fun. I love being with you. But you ... we don't have to get married, you know."

"Look, sweetness, you talked marriage, but I'm not forcing you into something. All I ask is that we're exclusive. Me and you ... nothing on the side."

"But marrying..."

"I like the idea. For one, I get, I dunno – YOU."

"You've got me. Are you sure that you want the world to know? I mean, like at the movies. At the restaurant. Megan. Your ex. All those people look at me and know what I was..."

"Put a ring on your finger, Jess. What you were? That's gone. What you ARE? Jessica Harris – delightful, happy young wife in all the traditional senses – keeper of a home, lover of her husband."

"Faithful. It's important to me, Barry. I'm going to be faithful. Everything we have between us, I will treasure. That includes my body."

"Sounds like marriage, baby," I said.

"Does, doesn't it? Except for that license and ceremony thing, it is."

"You see," I said. "I sort of think that we should do that."

"I do, too."

"You know, we had this conversation on our first trip together."

"And I know that," she said. "But – excitement. Heat of the moment. Make each other smile ... Barry, you're the kind of guy who smiles thinking about being married to someone. I was there. You were there."

"You didn't mean it?"

"I did. I wasn't sure YOU did. I sort of scooted myself right into your life."

"I sort of welcomed you in, you know ... and it's not 'Barry's having his mid-life crisis so he's doin' a younger woman', in case you wonder."

"So you won't get over me? Get tired of me?"

"Those are the worries I should have, Jess. But I look at you and when you're there, I don't worry ... And when you're not there, I wish you were there, and I think about how rich you make my life seem to be."

"Barry," she said softly.

"What's wrong, Jess? You know we've talked."

Heavy sigh. "Okay. PMS. I ... Sometimes I get a little overboard."

"You need hugging."

"But sometimes I don't."

"Then pick yourself an end of the sofa, baby. I'll leave you alone."

"Until I don't want to be left alone?"

"You're smart and you're funny and you're beautiful. And I'm okay with you being moody."

"How about if I'm a gold-plated bitch?"

"That, too." I glanced sideways at her as I drove. She was smiling. "I have actual experience with one of those."

"I'll never leave, you know."

"I hope so."

"Let's get married next weekend."

"Huh?"

She giggled. "If you're serious, what difference does it make? I'm gonna move in ... already have, really. So we just as well be married."

"Serious talk, Jess," I said. "We haven't known each other long. There might be some rough times. Are you sure about his?"

"I am. I can be. I think you're it. My heart thinks you're it." Her hand touched my arm, stroking lightly. "My body thinks you're it."

"Baby, this is all fun and wonderful and you make me happy, but I'm forty-eight. I'm not going to be able to keep up with somebody your age..."

"If you're talking about young guys, Barry, you have done more for me on any given evening than a couple years' worth of those guys. You make love. You play me like a violin. And your arms ... if you'll always smile, always hold me close ... I feed on you. And I think we'll keep you going a lot longer than you can begin to imagine. I don't feel deprived, I feel like I FOUND what was missing."

I put my hand to my head as we stopped for a traffic light.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"We've been all over the map in this conversation, baby. Where are we stopping?"

"You're going to take me home..."

"Our home?"

"Of course, silly. Where you and I live ... And you're going to go with me inside and we're going to tear the covers off the bed and we're going to be very happy with each other for a while, then we're going to take a shower together and then we're going to go out to eat."