The Rules of Dating

It was the third time I’d caught Maya watching me tonight. Saylor and I were sitting on the floor in the living room playing Candy Land, and Maya had been cleaning up after eating her dinner. I probably could’ve ignored it or chalked it up to her studying me to prepare for tomorrow’s interview, but after nearly two weeks of living together, I’d learned to read her. Tonight, the look in her eyes made me think she wanted something.

She smiled as we locked eyes, and I immediately forced my gaze back to the game board without returning the sentiment. The last thing I wanted was to give her the impression I was interested in anything more than getting us out of this mess. I guess she took the hint, because she disappeared into the guest room and didn’t come out until after I’d put Saylor to bed.

“Is she asleep?” Maya came into the living room where I was watching TV. Well, at least the television was on, and I’d been staring in that direction.

I nodded. “The sitter took her to the park after school. She’s become obsessed with going back and forth on the monkey bars, and that always seems to knock her out.”

Maya smiled. “I think I’m going to have a glass of wine. I’m a bit on edge about tomorrow. Would you like one?”

“No, thanks.” Even though things between Maya and I had become more cordial over the last week, I wasn’t about to do anything that felt the slightest bit coupley. It would be too disrespectful to Billie.

Maya poured herself a glass of merlot and sat down at the other end of the couch. “I have an implant in my arm for birth control.” She pointed to the triceps area. “On my right side.”

Maybe it was the way I’d thought she was looking at me earlier, or the fact that she wore only a skimpy pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top now, but I jumped to the wrong conclusion. “There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping with you.”

Maya sighed. “I’m telling you because I realized earlier that a husband would know that type of thing about his wife. The investigator could ask what type of protection we use.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Also, I usually sleep naked. How about you?”

“I have a daughter, so no, I don’t usually sleep naked. Sometimes she gets up before me, and I wouldn’t want to scar her for life.”

Maya frowned. “Yeah, of course. That makes sense. I guess I should say the same thing if I’m asked then, huh?”

I shrugged. “If you want.”

She nodded. “Why don’t we say I sleep in a tank top and shorts like this? No bra, of course.”

“Fine.”

“And what about you? What should I say you sleep in?”

“Just my underwear is fine.”

“Do we lock the bedroom door when we have sex?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe we should say we usually do, but there’s been a few times where things got heated fast and we didn’t get a chance to. It sounds more believable since we’re supposed to be newlyweds.”

This entire conversation made me very uncomfortable. “Fine.”

Maya sipped her wine. “Do you remember the night we met? We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We barely made it to your apartment before we had sex against the wall in the entryway. I would imagine if we were a real couple, our passion would still be that way. Don’t you think?”

My jaw tightened. “I don’t think about it. But if you want to say we missed locking the door a few times, I’ll say something similar if asked.” I aimed the remote at the TV and pressed the button to turn it off. “I’m going to bed. We have to leave here by eight thirty for our appointment. Will you be around or are you meeting me there?”

“I’ll be here. I wouldn’t put it past the investigator to be watching how we walk up again. So I think we should arrive together.”

I nodded and stood. “I’ll come back after I drop Saylor at school.”

“Or…we could take her together?”

I shook my head. “I’ll come back.”

In my room, I got changed and was about to walk into my bathroom to brush my teeth when there was a light knock on the door. I opened it to find Maya standing there. She thumbed behind her. “I was getting ready for bed, and I realized we don’t know each other’s bathroom routine.”

I held my hand on the top of the door, not budging to allow her to enter. “I brush my teeth and wash my face.”

Maya held up her cell phone. “Every night I read a different article about what questions people have been asked during a Stokes hearing. The one I read tonight said the investigator focused on the small details of their bedtime routine. He asked if they put the toothpaste away or just leave it on the counter, and if they used mouthwash and flossed and stuff.”

I glanced at her phone, which showed a website with a bunch of questions, and then looked back to her.

“I really want to pass this so I can get out of your hair,” she said. “I promise it won’t take long. I’ll just stand in the background quietly and watch you do your routine, in case we’re asked about it.”

I took a deep breath before stepping aside to let her in. “Fine.”

Maya leaned against the doorway of the bathroom as I went about brushing my teeth and then took out floss.

“Oh, you use the old-school string stuff?” she said. “I use those Pluckers, the plastic things with a piece of floss attached on the end.”

I looked at her reflection in the mirror as I threaded between my teeth. I’d already taken off my shirt for bed, and I watched as Maya’s eyes dropped down to check out my chest. It made me really fucking uncomfortable. So I did a half-assed job on my teeth and finished up as quickly as possible before turning to face her. “Happy?”

“Do you want to come watch me now?”

I shook my head. “How about you just say your routine is exactly like the one you saw me do, if we’re asked?”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I can do that.”

I motioned behind her, into my bedroom. “Think I can go to bed now?”

Maya stepped aside for me to exit the bathroom, then slowly walked toward the door. As she passed the bed, she ran her finger along the top of the comforter until she reached the end, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at me.

“Maybe we should spend the night together. You know, to pick up any last-minute details. I don’t even know if you’re a snuggler or if you sleep on your stomach.” She looked up at me from under her lashes and bit on her lower lip shyly. “It could be our little secret. I wouldn’t mention it to Billie or anything.”

I clenched my jaw so hard, I was surprised I didn’t crack a pearly white. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

Maya blinked a few times. I’m guessing not too many men declined an offer for her to join them in bed. She had the balls to pout. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

I pointed to the door. “Rude would be telling you to get the fuck out of my apartment and go sleep on the street. Which I’m about two seconds away from doing if you don’t get out of my bedroom right now.”

She huffed and stomped toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

***

The following morning, Maya and I barely said two sentences to each other while we took the train downtown to the interview. I was a nervous wreck and had reached a point that I jumped if a car so much as honked its horn. The only thing that was going to settle my nerves was having today finally over with. My lawyer, Adam, met us out front of the federal building, and we talked for a few minutes before going inside together. He’d told us the questioning could last up to eight hours long and be conducted separately, or it could be less than an hour with us being interrogated together in one room. So I had no idea what to expect, until Officer Weber walked in.

“Mrs. Lennon can wait here,” he said with no preamble. “The video equipment is set up down the hall. I’d like to meet with Mr. Lennon first.”

Adam nodded and spoke to Maya. “I’ll be back as soon as we’re done.”

“Okay.”

Maya stepped to me and opened her arms for a hug. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Through my peripheral vision I caught the investigator watching, so I had no choice but to follow through with the embrace she offered. Maya kissed my cheek before I could pull away and whispered loud enough so everyone could hear. “Love you.”

I nodded and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Facing the firing squad down the hall was more enticing than being in Maya’s arms.

Again, the investigator wasted no time jumping in. As soon as he’d turned the recording equipment on, he fired off the first question, asking about the type of birth control Maya used. Thanks to the chat I hadn’t even wanted to have last night, I knew the answer. The subsequent ten or so questions were all focused on things we’d either practiced or learned about each other over the last two weeks of living together. He asked how Maya took her coffee and where she put her dirty laundry. Knowing the answers went a long way toward settling my nerves, and it wasn’t lost on me that I probably wouldn’t have known half of them if she hadn’t forced me to let her move in. Everything seemed to be going well, and I started to feel like maybe I actually did know Maya a little bit. Until the first question came that stumped me.

“How many times a week do you and Mrs. Lennon go out to dinner?”

“Umm… Not too often.”

Investigator Weber pursed his lips. “I need an actual answer—five times, zero, three?”

“Well, it varies from week to week.”

“Okay. Let’s be more specific then. How many times did you go out to dinner in the last seven days?”

Shit. I took a few seconds to consider the question. “I think once.”

“You think?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was once.”

“And can you tell me if Mrs. Lennon has any scars?”

“Scars?”

“Yes, you do know what a scar is, don’t you?”

Oh Jesus. This isn’t good.

Over the next three hours, I was grilled like a criminal. There were a few more questions I wasn’t sure of, and I tried to answer those as vaguely as possible. After the investigator finished with me, he asked me to wait out in the lobby, and Maya and Adam took their turn. I had the urge to pace as the minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace, but I thought it best to stay in my chair and try to not look so terrified, just in case the receptionist reported back to the investigator about my behavior. It was three-and-a-half hours more before Maya and my attorney came walking out from the back.

Officer Weber nodded to Adam. His face was an unreadable mask, just as it had been through most of the interview. “I’ll be in touch,” he said.

Adam nodded back. “Thank you. Have a good afternoon.”

None of us said a word the entire elevator ride down to the street level. I think I might’ve held my breath until we were outside the building.

“So…” Adam turned to face us. “How do you think it went? Neither one of you seemed to stumble much on anything.”

“I felt like it went okay,” Maya said.

I nodded. “I’m afraid to say I thought it went okay, too.”

Adam smiled and rested a hand on my shoulder. “I get it. But at least it’s over now. It will be a few weeks before anything else happens.”

After my attorney left, Maya and I compared notes. We walked toward the train station rattling off questions and answers.

“What did you say for how many times a week we go out to dinner?” I asked.

“I said what I’ve witnessed so far—maybe once, at the most.”

I blew out a deep breath and nodded. “Good…good. I said the same thing. How about scars? Do you have any?”

“Just the C-section scar.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Saylor was born via C-section?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“She was breach.”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling rattled—though it was less about how the interview went and more that I didn’t even know how my daughter had been born.

I ran my hand through my hair. “I had no idea you had a C-section. I said you didn’t have any scars.”

“That’s the only one.”

“Do you think we have to get every question right? Is it like high school where a sixty-five is passing, or do we have to score a hundred percent? I mean, I might not have even thought of a C-section scar as a scar. When he asked me, I was trying to remember if you’d told me about any injuries or accidents. So I’m not certain I would have said C-section even if I’d known you had one. People overlook things or forget.”

Maya shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea what it will take for us to pass.” She held up a finger. “Oh, another one I wasn’t sure about was what color underwear you had on last night.”

“What did you say?”

“I guessed gray.”

“Good guess, because that’s how I answered. Though I wasn’t sure.”

We continued comparing answers the entire walk to the train, while we waited on the platform, and through almost the entire ride back. In the end, there seemed to be only one other question aside from the scar one that we’d gotten wrong. The investigator had asked what day garbage went out at our apartment, and Maya had said Tuesday, while I’d responded Friday. But she said she’d tried to laugh off the question by admitting she was guessing and saying garbage and repairs were my chores, and laundry and dishwasher duty were hers.

I felt like it wouldn’t be uncommon for the person who doesn’t take out the garbage to be uncertain of the day it went to the curb. Other than those two questions, it seemed like we’d done pretty well. I just hoped it was enough. Regardless, what was done was done, and by the time we got off the train at our stop, my shoulders were definitely a lot more relaxed than they had been the last few weeks.

I even felt like I could breathe a little easier as we approached the staircase that led up to street level. Just before we hit the landing, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out to see who it was and tripped over something on the floor. I flailed around for a solid thirty seconds trying to regain my balance before ultimately landing flat on my ass. Before I got up, I looked around to see what I’d tripped on, and found a random work boot in the middle of the floor. I shook my head and started to laugh as I got up. “Who the hell loses one boot in the subway?”

Maya’s eyes widened as she pointed to my ass. “Oh my God, Colby! You split your pants!”

I twisted to check out the back of my slacks. Sure enough, they were ripped at the seam. And not just a little—the damn things were torn from one end to the other.

“Crap.” I laughed.

Maya cracked up. “I guess I know what color underwear you have on today.”

The last few weeks had been so stressful; I was pretty sure I hadn’t smiled once. So my pants splitting turned into much needed comic relief, and the two of us laughed harder and longer than was probably appropriate for the incident. In fact, we were still laughing when we started up the stairway to the street again. Though my laughter came to an abrupt halt when I looked up and saw the face of the woman coming down the stairs—she was definitely not smiling.

Billie.

I froze.

She froze.

Maya, completely oblivious, was still laughing as she climbed the stairs ahead of me.

“Billie, what are you doing here?”

Her face fell. “Apparently not having as good of a time as you two…”

I shook my head. “No, no, no. It’s not what it looks like. I swear.”

She held up her hands and started to walk down the stairs again. “It’s fine, Colby. I need to go so I don’t miss my train.”

“Billie, wait!” I chased after her.

But she rushed through the turnstile and shook her head. “Just go, Colby. Your wife is probably waiting for you on the street.”

***

Hours later, I was sitting alone at my kitchen table with an empty bottle of tequila when Maya walked in. I hadn’t seen her since the incident with Billie this afternoon.

“Where were you?” I slurred.

“I saw Billie get upset, so I thought I’d make myself scarce for a while. Is everything okay?”

I drank the last of the alcohol in my glass and guffawed. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? The woman I love doesn’t want to see me because I’m living with another woman, who happens to be my wife, and then today she saw what looked like me having a great time with said wife.” I shrugged. “Everything is just fucking peachy.”

Maya sighed and sat down across from me. “I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you, Colby. I really am.”

If I didn’t know she had no heart, I might’ve bought her act and thought she felt bad for me. I got up from the table. “I’m going to bed.”

After I brushed my teeth and changed, my mind circled back to where it had been all afternoon. I’d been wanting to text Billie, but I didn’t want to upset her any more than I already had, so I’d refrained. Though in my current drunken state, I talked myself into believing it would be irresponsible of me not to check on her after she’d been visibly upset. I picked up my phone and laid back on my bed to type.

Colby: Hey. I’m sorry about today. I’d just tripped and split my pants. The hearing was today, and I felt like I was about to lose it. I swear it wasn’t what it looked like. Things have definitely not been fun. I want to make sure you’re okay and say I love you.

I watched as the message changed from Sent to Delivered, then a minute later finally showed as Read. I stared down at my phone, waiting for her response.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited…