What It Takes

Life isn’t fair. It never is. They-whoever they are- tell you that, but you never realize until something like this happens. Your life never goes as expected. Something always happens that stops what you originally planned; stops you from living your life. The universe is out to get everyone. It starts when you’re one year old and trying to walk. Thanks gravity, for keeping me down. It follows you to grade school, when you can’t figure out that god damn script s. To middle school, when your crush tells you that your boobs are too small. And high school, the first heartbreak. Sometimes, you have to look for the bright side.

The only bright side that I have is the reason that I’m sitting in a lawyer’s office. On my wedding day, my mother told me that there was a loophole in the contract. A loophole that would let me divorce my husband. I shuddered, slightly sickened by my own terminology. I glanced down at the ring on my hand and sighed.

I tapped my foot impatiently on the ugly carpet, awaiting my turn with the lawyer. I was unsure of a lot of things, but I knew that nobody makes a fool out of me. That’s what Peyton did, and he was going to pay. I glanced at the clock on the green wall. I had skipped school anyway, we were moving into the house. I told my parents that I was just getting some milk and my books. I hoped they would believe it.

When the old woman behind the glass called me up, I was ready. I grabbed my purse and papers and made my way to the office door. It was a somewhat modern office. The man behind the desk had to be young, but was already balding. How unfortunate. He stood and straightened his tie, smiling and extending his hand. “You must be Ms. Jordan, I presume. Your mother is here?” he said.

I smiled a small smile at him and shook his hand. I sat in the puffy arm chair. “No, I’m Mrs. Jordan,” I said confidently. His face showed the apparent disbelief. He sat also and leaned back in his chair. “Well then, Mrs. Jordan, how may I help you?” he asked, obviously unsure. I smiled at him and leaned in my chair also. “Call me Madison, Mr. Berman. Let me explain,” I started, moving my bangs out of my eyes.

“Now, a little more than three months ago, my parents told me that I was in an arranged marriage. This boy and I hit it off, I guess. He was staying at my house and his mother said that his dad was dying, and he wanted to see us married,” I took a breath and watched his reaction. He was drinking it in and only a bit pink in the face. “I signed a contract and then found out his father wasn’t sick. But it was okay because I fell in love with him. He got his friend pregnant and now I want a divorce.”

I handed him the papers and sat up, waiting for his verdict. He scanned some of them. “It could be potentially high risk for me to take this case,” he said, leaning forward on the wooden desk. I looked at him blankly. “Please explain,” I urged him, crossing my legs. He smiled at my fake professionalism, while on the inside I was screaming profanities at this idiot. “How do I know I’ll be paid?” he said for starters. I rolled my eyes. Typical. “I can sign a contract, if you like. As we’ve seen I’m quite good at that,” I said sarcastically, leaning against the back of the chair.

“Well, I suppose I could do it. Okay, Madison. I’ll try to have you divorced within two months. At the earliest,” he said, and my jaw dropped. “Two months?” I screeched, outraged at the thought. “At the earliest,” he added and I scoffed. “I have other cases, not to mention finding the loop hole in the first place. I’ll work on it. Now, I’ll call you soon to discuss wages,” he said, standing and ushering me to the door. “Alright, goodbye Mr. Berman,” I replied, storming out of the room. I glared at the old woman and walked out into the chilly December air.

It was only two days since November. Since my wedding day. I had always wanted a spring wedding, but I got a fall wedding. The marriage had outshined Thanksgiving, so we were substituting at my new home in two days. I slipped into my dad’s car and turned the key, hearing the engine start quietly. I backed out of the lawyer’s parking lot and drove quickly to the gas station around the corner. I snapped the door open quickly and jogged into the small station.

Grabbing the milk, I went to pay when I saw Jason walk in. “Jesus, why do you hate me?” I whispered under my breath as I stood on line, hiding in my bangs. I tapped my foot and jostled the milk, as it froze my hand. “Hey mom. I just got some gas and I’m paying now so I’ll be home in like five minutes,” he said into his Blackberry and he got on line behind me. “Madison? Is that you?” he asked and I turned.

“Oh hey Jason. What are you doing here?” I asked, smiling at him. “Shouldn’t I ask you that? You haven’t been in school for like four days,” he said, eyes wandering down to my left hand. I moved it so the ring wasn’t in sight. “Yeah, I was sick. Today was just like, a resting day,” I said, moving forward in line and placing the milk on the counter. “Okay,” he said, and I knew he didn’t believe me, “Maybe we could hang out sometime.” I nodded, handing a twenty to the young woman behind the counter.

“Well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Sorry but I’m in a rush, see you around,” I said, grabbing the milk and my change and running out of the store. I sat in the car and shook my head. “A horrible excuse. What the hell was that, Madi?” I said to myself. The silence was killing me, so I flipped on the radio. Making a right onto the highway, I cruised slowly getting closer to my new house.

I pulled into the driveway and sat blankly, staring at the truck. Peyton poked his head out and smiled at me. I glared at him and grabbed a binder out of the backseat. I picked up the milk and brought into the house. I placed it in the refrigerator and sat at the counter, placing my head against the cool granite.

Peyton walked into the open space and dropped a box in the kitchen. “Where is everyone?” I asked, my voice muffled by my arm. “Your parents left for the deck furniture. Mine left for business,” he answered, dropping on a stool next to me. I sighed and looked up. The whole downstairs had been furnished, we only had to unpack the kitchen appliances and utensils. The bedroom was also done, I worked on that yesterday. “We have to do thank-you’s,” I said in a monotone, tapping my fingers against the counter.

“We can do it upstairs, if you want,” he offered and I nodded, keeping my eyes off of him. If I looked at him, I couldn’t stop. Therefore, I avoided it altogether. He went upstairs and I lagged behind. We would be happy now, if Sara never got pregnant. If they never did anything. I rolled my eyes and took my phone out of my purse, sliding it in the back pocket of my jeans.

I went up to the bedroom where Peyton was bent over a stack of cards. Sighing, I pulled the remote out from under the couch cushion, where I had hidden it. I left the tv off though, basically taunting him with the small device. I grabbed some papers from the small bureau and sat on the bed, writing names neatly on the cards. I glanced over at Peyton. He was methodically working, writing addresses on envelopes. His hair was falling in his eye and he had a slight frown on his face. Even from this view I admired his bright eyes; the ones that saw into my soul.

His pale skin stood out today, against his black band t-shirt. I scanned his thin frame and wondered if he ate enough. He was carefully making the letters match up evenly and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit. I smiled slightly at his frustration. He glanced over at me and looked away before doing a double take. His eyes were filled with confusion. I was actually looking at him. And a smile was on my face. I blushed and returned to writing Aunt Nancy and Uncle John on the crème colored card.

“Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” he asked quietly. “Not with you,” I replied, glancing at the hideous ring on my finger. “Oh. Okay then. Well, we have to go grocery shopping then,” he said, and I sighed. I met his eyes for the first time in a long time. “Make the list and we’ll go in half an hour,” I answered, sitting back on the bed. He went downstairs and I sighed laying down on the large, comfortable bed.

It was tough to admit that I still loved him. I knew that I would for a while. But this was something I had to get over. There were plenty of other fish in the sea. But you aren’t married to them, the small voice taunted and I sighed. I slipped on my flip flops and went down the steps.

He sat at the counter and I ignored him, taking a glass out of the cabinet. I pulled the milk out of the fridge and watched as it swirled in the glass. I drank it down quickly and washed it. “Are you ready to go?” I asked, grabbing the keys. He nodded and I only caught it out of my peripheral vision. Ignoring him was best, as I knew. I was teaching my heart to close, or so I hoped. He got in the passenger seat next to me. When did I get in the car? I wondered and I started the drive to the nearest Shop Rite.

I smirked to myself. If he thought this trip was going to be fun, he was dead wrong. Lately, my tenacity has been missing. But I think I’m ready for it to come back. These two months should be fun for me, at least.