The Rules of Dating

“How many of those have you had?”

I tossed the tiny tequila bottle into the hallway trash can and reached into my pocket for another. “Apparently not enough, because I can still make out your face.”

Maya scowled. “You act like it’s the end of the world marrying a beautiful woman. Many men would be thanking their lucky stars to marry me.”

I scoffed and twisted off the cap to the tequila. “First off, beauty comes from the inside, so you’re as ugly as they come. And second, if so many men would be lucky to marry you, why aren’t you here with one of them?”

Maya looked around. “Lower your voice. And you know the answer to that. Because a marriage that occurs right when the government is trying to deport you is questionable. It’s more believable if I’ve been with someone for a few years, and we have a child together.”

“We don’t have a child. A child is someone you put first in your life, someone you love and protect. I have a child. You have a fucking chess piece.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But you need to slow down on the drinking, because if the officiant thinks you’re drunk, he might deem you to not have the capacity to marry.”

I snorted. “The capacity to marry… When did you go to law school?”

“Just because I was a stripper doesn’t mean I’m not educated.”

“My judgment of you has nothing to do with your profession, sweetheart. It has everything to do with your actions. Only a dumb bitch would take off on her kid with no warning. Newsflash: I’m an adult who doesn’t shun my responsibilities. I would’ve taken her if you were struggling, and we could have worked something out for you to visit once in a while.”

For the first time since she walked back into my life, Maya’s face fell. At that moment, a man opened the door we were sitting outside of.

“Lennon and Moreno!” he yelled.

I chugged the tequila in one gulp and held my hand up. “Is it our time to go before the firing squad?”

“He’s joking,” Maya said. She turned and flashed me a warning glare. “Right, honey?”

The guy didn’t look like he gave two shits one way or the other. He looked right, then left, and spoke in a monotone voice. “Where’s your witness?”

“Witness?” Maya said. “I thought you supplied them.”

He shook his head. “That’s not how it works. It’s clearly printed in the brochure you receive when you come in to apply for your marriage license. No witness, no wedding.”

“Ummm… Can you just give me one minute?” Maya asked.

“That’s about all I can give you. You’re the last ceremony of the day, and they cut our budget again, so no more overtime. We close at four sharp; that’s why the last appointment is three forty-five.”

“I’ll just be one minute. I promise.”

The man shrugged and went back into the clerk’s office.

I cackled. “Guess you didn’t think of everything.”

Maya narrowed her eyes. “Wait here and don’t drink anything else.”

I responded by taking yet another bottle of tequila from inside my jacket pocket and twisting the cap with a smile.

Maya shook her head before storming off.

She came strolling back down the hall three minutes later with a guy who looked like he might be homeless. He didn’t even have shoes on. “Let’s go,” she said. “Frank is our witness.”

I reached into my pocket and offered Frank a mini bottle of tequila. “Want one?”

He snatched it out of my hand and looked at Maya. “You’re still paying me the hundred bucks.”

I wobbled a little. “You might want to get it from her now. She can’t be trusted.”

Maya glared, but Frank was smart enough to heed my warning. He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the hundred or I’m leaving.”

She dug into her purse. “You better have the ID you say you have.”

A few minutes later, our lovely threesome was standing in the clerk’s office. I’d expected we were going in to sign some papers before going into some sort of courtroom, but apparently a New York City courthouse wedding didn’t actually happen in court. The clerk didn’t even come out from behind the counter.

“Would you like to join hands?” he asked.

Maya went to take my hands, but I yanked them from her grip. “Is that necessary?”

The clerk frowned. “No, it’s not.”

I shoved my hands into my pants pockets. “Then let’s get this over with.”

The clerk looked between us. “Is there a problem?”

The alcohol had started to hit me, and that always brought out my sense of humor. At least, I thought so. I shrugged. “Nah, my religion just prohibits me from touching her before we’re married.” I snort-laughed again. “Too bad it doesn’t prohibit sleeping with strippers, huh, Father?”

“Umm…I’m not a priest. I’m a city employee, a clerk of the court.”

“I was wondering why you didn’t have one of those collars on. Those things are probably hot as balls in the summer, huh? Like wearing a turtleneck.”

Maya’s eyes drilled into me. “Why don’t we let the man do his job and marry us?” She plastered on a pageant-worthy smile and looked at the clerk. “He tells jokes when he’s nervous. I’m sorry.”

The clerk shrugged and went on with the ceremony. A whopping seven minutes later, he said, “Congratulations, you are now husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

A wave of nausea hit me, and I actually had to cover my mouth. “I don’t feel so good. Can we leave now?”

Maya offered the clerk an apologetic smile. “Bad sushi for lunch.”

The guy couldn’t care less. He just wanted us out of here before four. He stamped a bunch of papers and pointed to lines for each of us to sign before offering us a certificate. “Good luck. I think you might need it.”

I made it as far as the garbage can in the hall outside the clerk’s office before everything really did come up. I wasn’t sure if it was what I’d had to drink, or what I’d just done to my life. But my new bride didn’t seem to give a fuck.

She put her hands on her hips while my face was still hovering over the top of the garbage. “This behavior isn’t going to fly with the investigator, Colby. You’d better learn to act like I’m your loving wife.”

I spit the bad taste in my mouth into the garbage. “De Niro isn’t good enough to pull off that shit.”

Maya shook her head. “I’ll be in touch about prepping for the interview soon.”

I lifted my head. “Go fuck yourself.”

***

“What can I get you?” The bartender put a napkin out in front of me.

“Tequila.”

“A shot or a drink?”

“Both.”

“Any particular type of tequila?”

“Whatever.”

The guy shrugged. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, he came back and set down a shot glass, a whiskey glass filled with ice, some limes, and a can of Coke. He poured Don Julio from a bottle with a tapered spout. “This stuff is a little more expensive, but you’ll appreciate it the next day. I also brought you a choice of chasers. I don’t suggest chasing tequila with tequila.”

“Thanks.”

I knocked back the tequila shot and made a face that probably looked like I’d just sucked on a lemon.

The bartender snickered. “I thought so.”

“What?”

“This isn’t a regular thing for you, is it?”

“Definitely not.”

He leaned an elbow on the bar. “You want to talk about it?”

I looked him over. He was probably in his early sixties, wearing a tucked-in plaid shirt and a pair of jeans with a towel slung over his shoulder. “You married?”

He held up three fingers. “Third time’s a charm.”

It hit me for the first time that if I married Billie, she wouldn’t be my first wife. She’d always be number two, and she didn’t deserve anything but being a one and only.

I lifted the glass of tequila and sipped. “What happened to the first two?”

“I’ve been sober for six years. Can’t really tell you what went wrong the first couple times because I don’t remember most of those years. But I’m guessing it had something to do with me being a raging alcoholic. I’m not a happy drunk.”

“You’re in recovery and you work at a bar?”

“Own it. Not much else I know how to do except run a bar.”

I nodded.

The bartender held out his hand. “Name’s Stan Fumey. Nice to meet you.”

“Colby Lennon.” I shook.

“So what’s your story?” Stan asked. “Wife giving you a hard time so you’re in here trying to forget she exists?”

“Something like that…”

“How long you been married?”

“What time is it now?”

Stan looked over his shoulder at a Budweiser clock on the wall. “It’s just about five o’clock.”

I nodded. “About an hour then.”

His brows pulled together. “You’re shittin’ me.”

I sipped more tequila. “Wish I was. Got married at four o’clock.”

“Where’s your bride?”

“Getting run over by a bus, hopefully.”

The bartender chuckled. “I have two words of advice for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Walter Potter.”

My forehead wrinkled.

Stan took a few steps away and grabbed something from next to the cash register. Then he tossed a business card toward me.

I squinted to read it.

Walter Potter

Attorney at Law

Divorce Specialist

“He’s good and cheap. Maybe he can get you one of those annulments or something.”

I shook my head. “I wish it were that easy.”

Stan studied me for a minute. “You get the girl pregnant or something?”

I finished off my glass of tequila and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“That’s tough. When is she due?”

“Four years ago.”

Stan’s entire face wrinkled. “Sounds complicated.”

“It is.”

“Well, you already know I’m no expert on marriage, so I can’t give you any advice on making that work. But I can tell you one thing—sometimes staying together for the kids is more damaging than the effect of a separation. I give you credit for trying to make a go of it. But never forget that kids learn by watching, not by you telling them how to act. So if you haven’t already, start living by example.”

As if I didn’t already feel like shit. The last thing I’d want is for my daughter to get herself into a predicament like this. I was sure Stan meant well, but he wasn’t helping. So I pushed my glass forward. “Think I can get a refill?”

He nodded. “Sure thing.”

A few hours later, I was so shitfaced that my new buddy Stan cut off my alcohol supply. I tossed whatever bills I had left in my pocket on the bar and grumbled that I was going somewhere else before staggering out. But when I hit the street and attempted to walk, I wasn’t so sure I could keep upright without some assistance. So I held one hand against the brick on the outside of the bar and skooched along the street, leaning my weight one step at a time. It probably took me ten minutes to go all of four buildings and get to the corner, only to realize I was fucked because I wouldn’t have a building to lean against while I crossed. Rather than get run over by a cab, I thought maybe I should sit down for a few minutes, which is exactly what I did. I slid my back down the last building on the block and sat on the disgusting New York City street.

Just as I got comfortable, my phone buzzed in my pants pocket. But my inebriated state kept me from being coordinated enough to dig it out before I’d missed the call. Reading the name of the missed caller, the nausea I’d experienced earlier today came flooding back. Billie. I fucking hated what I’d dumped in her lap. Nevertheless, I didn’t want her to worry, so I hit the button to call her back.

“Hey.” She sighed. “How are you?”

“I’m gucking freight.” No, wait…that’s not right. “I mean I’m gucking freight.”

“Oh boy. You don’t sound like you’re doing too well. Or should I say not wooing dell.” She paused. “So…I guess it happened?”

“You mean, did I sell my soul to the devil?” I frowned. “Yeah, I did.”

Billie was quiet for a few moments. “It’s going to be okay, Colby.”

Her voice was so tender that tears streamed down my face. “It’s not going to be okay. You know why? Because you don’t deserve this shit.”

“Neither do you, Colby. Neither do you.” The line went silent again, until I heard her sniffle.

Fuck. “Please don’t cry. I can’t fucking take hurting you like this.”

“I’m sorry. I should be the least of your worries right now.”

“Can I see you?” I asked. “Saylor is staying at my parents’ house tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Colby. Not tonight anyway. But maybe tomorrow? I just know I’d be even more emotional if I were to see you right now, and you need a good night’s sleep.”

Heaviness weighed inside my chest. “Okay.”

“Where are you?”

“Not far from the courthouse. I went straight to the nearest bar.”

“Will you do something for me?”

“Anything…”

“Will you go home now? Don’t drink anymore. Get in an Uber and get some sleep.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.” She paused. “I’m going to go now, but everything is going to be okay. We’ll get through this, Colby.”

I wasn’t sure how, but I knew she meant well. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

After I hung up, I did exactly what she asked. I pulled up the Uber app and ordered a ride home. At least I thought I did… Until a voice woke me sometime later.

“Colby?”

I blinked my eyes open. “Billie? You’re here…”

“Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be at my apartment at three in the morning?”

Her apartment? I glanced around. I was lying on the floor in a hallway, so I pushed up onto one elbow. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“I don’t know. I was sleeping myself and had no idea you were out here. My neighbor works late. She called to ask if the man outside my door belonged to me or if I wanted her to call the cops.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I thought I went home.” I shook my head and tried to remember how I got here, but everything was fuzzy. “I remember being in an Uber and shutting my eyes. But after that, I’m drawing a blank.”

She held out a hand to help me up. “Come on. Come inside.”

I took it and climbed up from the floor, following her in.

Billie shut the door behind us and started texting. “I just need to tell Amber everything is fine so she doesn’t actually call the cops.”

I nodded and waited until she set her cell on the counter. “What time did you call me earlier?” I asked.

“It was about nine o’clock, I guess.”

“Shit. I guess I was out there for a while. Sorry.” I thumbed toward the door. “Do you want me to go?”

Billie shook her head and held out her hand. “Why don’t you come to bed with me?”

I nodded and followed her into the bedroom. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about undressing, at least down to my boxer briefs, but it felt wrong to do more than take off my shoes before getting under the covers. The room was dark, but there was a window open, and the streetlights illuminated enough for me to see once my eyes adjusted. I rolled onto my side, and Billie did the same.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

A giant lump formed in my throat. It felt like if I spoke, it might move and then all the feelings stuck behind it would rush to the surface. So I shook my head.

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

I couldn’t believe she was trying to console me. It should’ve been the other way around. Instead, it was yet another testament to the fact that I’d fallen for the kindest, most beautiful soul on the planet. I tried to swallow, but it was no use. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears streamed down my face as I took her cheeks into my hands. “I am so fucking in love with you that it hurts, Billie. I hate that I’m causing you pain. And I hate that I just told you I loved you for the first time today, when this day has been so ugly. I wanted it to be a day you could look back on, filled with nothing but good memories.”

Matching tears formed in Billie’s eyes. “It’s three thirty AM, Colby. Yesterday was filled with bad memories, but we still have time to fill today with good ones. Let’s not look back anymore and just move forward and choose to be happy, because I love you, too.”

I shook my head. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”

She smiled. “That’s how I know this is real. Because true love is when you both feel like you’ve found someone you don’t deserve.”