Isaiah
“What the hell did you do, Isaiah?” Miller scolds from the kitchen of her and my brother’s house. My future sister-in-law is like me in a lot of ways, so when Kai told me I had to be the one to break the news to her, I didn’t exactly expect this reaction.
Was hoping for a nice work, or thanks for marrying my friend so we get to be related.
Aiming too high on that, I suppose.
“How could you do this to Kennedy? She just got out of a relationship.
She needed time. Alone.”
“What’s up with everyone blaming me? Maybe Kennedy was the one begging me to marry her.”
There’s a beat of silence before Kai and Miller burst into laughter. “Fuck you guys.”
“Language,” my brother corrects through his laughter.
My eyes dart to the kitchen where my two-year-old nephew, Max, sits on the counter and smiles at me, holding a half-licked whisk that his mom was using.
“Sorry, Maxie. Don’t say that word. That’s not a nice word.”
“Zaya!” He waves his whisk wildly, a bit of chocolate cake mix flying around the kitchen.
Evan Zanders, a defenseman for the Raptors, Chicago’s NHL team, sits on the couch next to my brother, holding his daughter in his lap. Now that he’s a dad too, he and his wife have been spending more time at my brother’s place, letting Max and Taylor entertain each other.
“Kennedy?” he asks. “The girl you’ve talked about at every family dinner you’ve ever come to?”
“The one and only,” Kai says for me.
“Good for you, man.” “Don’t encourage him, Zee.”
“Why not? Stevie met her last summer and she thought she was great.” “She is great,” Miller and I say at the same time.
She shoots me a look. “That doesn’t mean they should pretend as if their relationship is real.”
Zanders shrugs. “Worked out for Ryan and Indy.”
“All right, Bug.” Miller picks Max up off the counter. “I think it’s time you and your dad go knock some sense into your uncle.”
“Miller, don’t be mad at me,” I plead. “I’m only going along with this so she can keep her job. Aren’t I such a great guy for doing that?”
She laughs. “BS. You’re obsessed with the girl. This is as much for you as it is for her.”
A flash of our wedding song pops into my head. I still remember how fucking funny I realized Kennedy was as I watched her walk down the aisle with full confidence to Mariah Carey’s “Obsessed.”
“Stop smiling to yourself.” Miller swats me in the arm with her son on her hip. “You’re walking around on cloud nine, meanwhile my friend is probably alone and freaking out. I should go over to her apartment.”
“She’s not alone, and she’s not at home. She’s meeting with her lawyer to get a prenup drafted. Or a post-nup. Whatever the hell it’s called after you tie the knot.”
“Shouldn’t you be there?” my brother asks from the couch in the living room. “It’s to protect your assets.”
“Apparently, it’s to protect hers.” Kai’s bright eyes squint in confusion.
“She’s related to Dean Cartwright,” I remind Kai of Kennedy’s stepbrother. “Their family always had money when we were growing up.”
Just another reason why I couldn’t stand the prick. While we were scraping by, trying to figure out a way to graduate high school without anyone realizing that Kai and I were on our own, I remember Dean showing up to the field every time we played against him, driving a new car, and decked out in the latest and most expensive baseball equipment.
Add that to the fact he’s a complete and utter nuisance and slept with every single girlfriend I ever had, it’s no wonder I’ve considered Kennedy’s stepbrother my longtime rival.
“Can we go chat outside?” I ask my brother.
All three of their attentions snap to my rarely serious tone, but Max just smiles over at me.
“Do you want to come outside too, Bug?” I take him from my soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“Yeah. Owside.”
The little man just turned two this weekend, and his vocabulary is slowly but surely getting there.
“Have you talked to my dad yet? He’s going to want to hear about this from you first.”
Miller’s question gives me pause.
Emmett Montgomery, Miller’s dad, is not only the field manager, which is essentially our head coach, but he’s also the closest thing I have to a father figure outside of Kai. He gives me shit and I give it right back. That’s how we communicate. You might not realize it if you were an outsider looking in, but Monty and I have a lot of love for each other.
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” I promise her.
With Max on my hip, I follow my older brother outside before putting my nephew down on the grass to play. We join him, sitting with our legs sprawled, when Kai hands over a beer I didn’t see him grab from the fridge. “I have a feeling we’re both going to need this.” He clinks his bottle with
mine.
“Do you think I fucked up?”
“In what context? Getting married or staying married?” “Offering to keep this going for Kennedy’s job?”
Kai takes a swig. “I think things have a way of working out for you. They always have. It’s the happy-go-lucky thing and that goddamn smirk that gets you anything you want.”
My sometimes-grumpy brother hides his half smile behind the bottle, taking another sip.
He’s got a point. When we were younger and it was just the two of us trying to get through high school, college, and eventually, to the big leagues, I saw the toll it took on Kai. Life came at him a lot quicker than it should’ve for any fifteen-year-old and the responsibility of taking care not only of himself but also me was an obvious burden.
So, when he needed a pick-me-up, I learned how to be the one to make him laugh.
When we only had enough money to order one meal, I charmed the waitress into throwing in some extra fries for free.
When we couldn’t afford to take the bus, I made friends with the driver on our route, and he constantly snuck us on board.
I may not be the responsible brother, but I know how to use my strengths to my advantage. People like me. I know how to make others smile. So yeah, sometimes I joke around, but I keep a positive attitude towards life, and things have always found their way of working out.
“I um . . .” I clear my throat. “I was hoping I could get Mom’s ring from you.”
“Isaiah.”
“What? You’re not using it for Miller.”
“No, but . . .” He keeps his attention on his son, who’s running around the grass in front of us. “Look, you know I’ve been saving Mom’s wedding ring for you, but I had hoped you’d give it to someone you see yourself spending your life with. Not . . . whatever you and Kennedy are doing.”
“Just trust me on this, okay?”
“Isaiah,” he exhales. “Come on, brother. You treating Kennedy like she’s your real wife isn’t going to make her magically fall for you.”
“There are things about Kennedy that you don’t know. All you guys see is me looking like a fucking idiot, pining after this girl, but it’s different when she and I are alone. I don’t know how to explain it, but in my gut, I know it’s different.”
Kai’s eyes soften. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. It’s happened to you a lot, and I don’t see this ending any differently. I don’t think Kennedy sees this playing out the way you do. I’m your brother. I want to protect you from that.”
In theory, I understand his concern. Kennedy might have an expiration date on this marriage, but all I’ve heard is that I got six long months to get my wife to fall for me.
Kai laughs to himself, breaking the tension. “I cannot fucking believe you got Kennedy to marry you on Saturday night. This is what I’m talking about. Everything works in your favor. The girl you’ve been pining after for
years randomly shows up in Vegas and marries you.” He shakes his head. “What the hell kind of Vegas luck is that?”
I smile with him. “Well, technically it was Sunday morning.” He stops laughing. “Sunday?”
“We got married on Sunday.” “Oh.”
Kai takes another swig from the bottle as we continue to watch Max pulling out dandelions from the ground before trying to blow them, much in the way he tried to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. He gives up and wobbles his way to me, stem outstretched for me to help him.
Pulling him into my lap, I hold my nephew and blow at the same time as him, letting him believe he’s the reason all the white, feathery tufts are now floating around us.
“I know I don’t have to remind you of Sunday’s date,” Kai says. “Max’s birthday.”
“Well, that too.”
“No.” I clear my throat. “You don’t have to remind me.” Kissing the top of my nephew’s head, I hold him in my lap. “Pretty amazing that Max was born on the same date that we lost Mom, huh? It’s almost as if she sent him here for us.”
“Yeah,” Kai breathes. “That’s how I’ve always thought about it too.”
“I met Kennedy on that same date three years ago. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that.”
“You didn’t.”
“I just so happened to marry her on the exact same date.”
His smile is small but understanding. In the same way Max was sent for us, I’ve had the same belief about my new wife.
“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll get you Mom’s ring.”
All the lights are out in my apartment, but it’s still plenty bright thanks to the flashes of lightning filtering in through the windows.
I’m a grown man and at thirty-one years old, I still hate storms.
I try to put the TV on as a distraction, but it’s no use. My anxiety is too high, my nerves are too fragile.
Another flash of lightning illuminates the night sky and instantly I’m on my feet, pacing my living room and texting my brother.
Me: You good? Are you home?
Kai: All good here. I’m home. You good?
Me: I’ll be all right. Are both Miller and Max home with you?
Kai: They’re here.
Me: Good. Don’t drive anywhere.
Kai: You know I won’t. Love you.
I shoot a quick text to Travis and Cody, checking in, though they have no idea why. Cody asks me if I want to come over for dinner and to watch the Chicago Devils game on TV, but he lives far enough away that I’d have to take a car, and that certainly isn’t happening.
Then, I shoot Monty a text.
Me: You home? Monty: Who’s asking? Me: I am.
Monty: If I say yes, are you going to show up uninvited and remind me that I’m about to be related to you because your brother and my daughter are getting married?
Me: By relation, I’m basically your son-in-law now. How exciting for you.
Monty: That’s not at all how it works. And besides I heard you’re someone’s else’s son-in-law now.
Me: You heard about that already?
Monty: The whole organization has heard about it.
Me: I was going to tell you.
Monty: We need to talk about that soon, kid.
Me: I know. We will. But on a serious note, are you home?
Monty: I’m home.
Me: Good. I’ll see you at the field.
It might not be the healthiest of things, but when I can’t calm my own intrusive thoughts, I do so by checking in on everyone I care about.
Since I’ve known her, I’ve wanted to check in on Kennedy when I’m feeling this anxiousness, but I’ve talked myself out of it, remembering that outside of work, she isn’t obligated to deal with me.
Now though . . . now she’s legally obligated.
I might still be upset about how she tried to pin this whole thing on me, but that hasn’t changed my feelings for her.
Me: Hey, Kenny. Are you home?
I pace while I wait for her reply, but minutes pass and nothing comes. Not even a flash of gray dots dance on my screen.
Though, another boom of thunder shakes my building, fraying my nerves.
Me: Ken, I need you to text back.
She doesn’t.
Me: I’m calling you Mrs. Rhodes in front of the whole team if you don’t text me back.
The reply is instant.
Kenny: Don’t you fucking dare.
Me: There’s my bride.
Kenny: Gross.
Me: You home?
Again, she doesn’t respond, so I call her instead. “What?”
“Are you home?” “Why?”
“Just answer the damn question, Kennedy. Are you home?” “Yes, I’m home.”
“And you’re not going anywhere tonight?” “No.”
“Okay, good.”
“Why are you asking?” “Just needed to know.”
She exhales like she’s already so tired of me and she’s only been married to me for less than forty-eight hours.
“You’re exhausting, Rhodes.”
I have to bite my lip to hold back my smile. “There are other ways I know how to be exhausting. You just let me know when you need a good night of sleep and we can consummate this marriage, Ken.”
She lets out this burst of a laugh and it’s so free and easy I let my lip go and fully smile while listening to her on the other side of the receiver.
“Have you made up your mind?” I ask.
Technically, I get nothing from this arrangement. We’re doing this all for her, but I still find myself desperate for her to say yes.
At the minimum I get to spend time with her if she agrees, and that’s all I really want anyway.
There’s a heavy pause on her end of the line. “This is the last thing I wanted.”
Damn. Straight to the point.
“I mean,” she corrects. “I meant to say that I wanted to have a choice. My last engagement, that wasn’t exactly my choice.”
Huh?
“I’ve never had the chance to date for fun, and I was looking forward to that, but now I’m . . .”
“Married,” I finish for her. “Yeah. I’m married.”
“I’m sorry.”
I’m still annoyed that she blamed this on me, and now I’m over here apologizing for it.
“It’s my fault,” she admits. “I got us into this mess, and you’re trying to get us out. I just . . . Isaiah, you and I will never be more than this arrangement.”
“How can you be so sure of that?” Because I’m sure as hell not.
“We’re too different, and I don’t want to agree to this if you’re hoping for anything in our future other than an end date. It’s only for six months. When
this season is over, I’m going to get back to the life I was looking forward to finally having.”
Maybe if I wasn’t such a goddamn hopeless romantic, her insistence would hurt a bit more, but all I keep hearing are the words six months.
I have six months to change her mind about me.
“What kind of life are you looking forward to having?” I ask, and how is it any different than the one she had before our night in Las Vegas?
She laughs, but it’s kind of sad. “A normal one.” “What’s normal to you, Kenny?”
“You’re going to think I’m weird.”
“At this point, it might be best if I find one or two negative qualities. My obsession hasn’t been able to come up with any yet.”
She laughs again and it’s then I realize I don’t hear that sound often. I’ll have to work on that.
“A normal life to me is one where I date whomever I want. Where I maybe get hit on at a bar and go to dinner with a guy that’s not also some extravagant black-tie affair. Where I don’t drunkenly marry someone for revenge, but where I’m also not engaged to someone as a business arrangement either.”
Huh?
“I’m going to need you to expand on that last one for me.”
“Maybe another time.” She sighs. “I want to do this. Selfishly, I want to do this.”
“Well, that’s good because I got you a ring already.”
“Oh. That was quick. I should probably get a ring for you too, huh?” “It’s only fair.”
“Do you have any preferences?” “Do men wear diamonds?” “You want diamonds?”
“I want this to be extravagant as hell. You wanted subtle so we’re going to blow the budget on me.”
She chuckles into the line again, which is weird. She never laughs this freely. She’s never so upfront and honest either.
“Kennedy Kay, are you drunk right now?” “A little.”
I keep the phone held up to my ear as I lie back on my bed, one hand tucked under my head, the previous anxiousness no longer sitting on my chest.
“I thought you weren’t much of a drinker.” “I’m not.”
“I’m driving you to drink already?” “Oh, you have no idea.”
“What are you drinking?”
The question sounds a whole lot like “what are you wearing,” which is also something I’d love to know.
“Tequila.”
My grin takes over my entire face. “Dangerous. I’ve heard people make drunken mistakes on tequila.”
“I’ve also heard them referred to as happy accidents.”
Eyes on the ceiling, I’m sure she can hear my smile through the line. “Isaiah?”
“Hmm.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
Hesitating, I think it over. “Kind of hard to be mad at you when you just agreed to be my wife.”
“It’s okay to be mad at me if you need to. You don’t always have to keep that smile plastered on your face.”
I pause, feeling this conversation hitting far too close to home, but attempt to playfully push off the vulnerability. “You’ve been noticing my smile, Kenny?”
“Mm-hmm. I notice that you smile even when you don’t want to. Like with me. I hurt your feelings today, and instead of leaving me to deal with everything on my own, you saved my job and made sure I was smiling before you left.”
I didn’t realize she noticed that. I didn’t think anyone noticed that.
“But you’re allowed to be mad at me,” she continues. “It won’t change how I feel about you.”
You’re allowed to be mad at me. It won’t change how I feel about you.
I clear my throat. “So, you’ll still hate me?” “Exactly.” I hear her swallow. “Isaiah?” “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you try anything with me that night in Vegas?”
Jesus.
“You’re drunk, Kenny.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to answer.”
Every ounce of blood in my body shoots south at the sound of Kennedy Kay asking why I didn’t try something with her.
“By try something, you mean other than marrying you?” “Yeah. Other than marrying me.”
“Did you want me to try something?”
“I don’t know. I’m just wondering why you didn’t.”
“Well,” I exhale. “I was just as wasted as you, so there’s that. Plus, I think my mama would come back from the grave and take me with her if I ever touched a woman while they were drunk. But at the end of the day, even though I’ve spent all this time trying to get your attention, I won’t try anything with you unless I know you want my attention too.”
There’s a heavy beat of silence.
“Did you want my attention that night, Kenny?” She chuckles into the phone. “Good night, Isaiah.”
Kennedy hangs up the phone just as another flash of lightning illuminates the sky.
It’s only then I realize that I kind of forgot about the storm for a bit.
