Fake Married to My Best Friend’s Daddy by Sofia T Summers
Adrian
Sitting at my desk Friday afternoon, time ticked on, yet I wasn’t getting much done. The clock on my taupe wall was starting to taunt me.
Emails were slowly piling up in my inbox. I’d paced back and forth in front of the wall of dark bookcases multiple times, and my afternoon coffee had gone cold. Every time I tried to focus on a task, my mind would always lose the necessary train of thought. Four or five tasks sat half-finished on my computer screen, and they taunted me just like the damn clock.
I made the mistake of thinking about Jessica. It led down a long rabbit hole of researching citizenship laws and temporary visas. With my salmon-colored sleeves rolled up to my elbows, I’d wasted two whole hours pouring over articles that all offered the same generic information.
I was happy I could offer her some comfort. Thinking back to the last smile she gave me, her brilliant smile made everything seem worthwhile. She already had my sympathy, yet I couldn’t stop feeling like there was more I could offer.
Jessica’s life was teetering out on a crumbling precipice, and I was watching it all unfold. Nobody else was around to reach out and pull her back from the edge, but I didn’t know how to do it exactly. No matter how much I searched and scoured the internet, I didn’t find anything worthwhile. My hands were grasping at nothing, while my eyes stared at another useless article in frustration.
I’d never been able to sit on the sidelines. When someone needed help, I helped them. I didn’t care what it took. Jessica Cartier needed help without a doubt. The only trouble was that the answer wasn’t simple.
I wasn’t a lawyer or a politician. I didn’t have any special connections or great wealth that could make her worries disappear. I was just Adrian Matthew Davis: insurance agent, father, and grandfather. I was happy with who I was, but it was starting to feel like… not enough.
Running a hand across my face, I sighed deeply, almost groaning. No exhale of anxiety could make me forget Jessica Cartier’s problems. I thought through her story and the advice the government official gave her.
She could become a student or get married. Both options would offer her easy access to a visa.
“If I marry a U.S.-born citizen, I can’t be separated from them. I would just need to find one first. Do you know any, Adrian?”
Jessica said it like a joke, but I did know plenty of U.S.-born citizens. I knew too many men who would be happy to have a wife as beautiful as her, but the thought of just anyone marrying Jessica Cartier made me shift in my desk chair. The notion left a bad and bitter taste in my mouth, so I quickly forgot it.
A knock at my open office door quickly made me forget it all. Standing there was Helen, my long-time office manager. In one of her familiar knit cardigans and loose tan pants, Helen didn’t wait for an invitation to step inside. She had a stack of paperwork for me and better things to do.
“These need your signature, Adrian,” she explained in her old Louisiana-style accent. “I’ll be back for them in twenty minutes.”
She quickly plopped the papers down in front of me. They weren’t anything special. At the very least, they wouldn’t require much mental focus, but my thoughts had just started drifting in a new direction. They led my eyes to the Black woman about to step back out of my office.
Helen Washington wasn’t a woman to mince words. She’d been working with me for the last fifteen years, running my office and my work life. She’d also raised three sons, kept a full-time job, and been an active member of her Pentecostal church for forty years.
If I’d learned anything about Helen in the time that I’d known her, it was that she was never afraid to give her brutally honest opinion. Sometimes, she would even offer her thoughts without anyone asking for them.
“Wait,” I called to her before she disappeared. “I’d like to ask you a question.”
Turning slowly, she told me, “I’m listening.”
Helen tucked one of her gray braids behind her ear. With a serene expression, her dark eyes were trained on me as they waited for the question. I folded my hands together, rested them on the large dark wood desk, and let out one long exhale of breath.
“I know someone who is in a sticky situation,” I explained, not wanting to hash all the details. “Through no fault of her own, she’s found herself getting the wrong end of the stick from Uncle Sam.”
“The government?” Helen asked for clarity.
“Yes,” I replied with a small nod.
“Heavens,” she mumbled. “That’s never good for anyone.”
“No,” I agreed. “And I don’t think she has many people to support her through this… debacle.”
Nicole once told me about Jessica being raised by her mother’s family after her parents died in a car crash. None of her family lived nearby from what I knew. The closest person she had was my daughter and, I guess, me.
“Do I wanna know what this ‘debacle’ is?” Helen pressed me, using air quotes around my chosen word.
I shook my head. “It’s a long story, and it wouldn’t help you make a decision.”
“Alright then, tell me.”
My hands tightening together, I asked, “If you knew you could help someone, even if it might make things a little complicated for your life, would you do it?”
Helen didn’t hesitate to scoff at the thought. Flipping her long braids over her shoulder, she smiled at me, nearly laughing.
“Life is always complicated, Adrian,” she declared. “You know that. We sell insurance here, don’t we? Nobody ever expects to use their insurance, but, then, a tree falls on their car in a storm. Maybe they forget to clean the lint trap in their dryer, and a fire is started in their laundry room. Life is messy, especially when you aren’t prepared for it. My youngest boy was a complication from a Sade concert and one-too-many wine coolers.”
“Does he know that?” I wondered aloud.
She laughed, “Oh, I made sure they all knew it. It was part of my safe sex speech.”
“I don’t need that one,” I assured her with a laugh. “But I would like to know what you’re thinking.”
“Well,” she sighed. “You think you know a way to help this woman.”
“Yes,” I answered with another nod.
“It wouldn’t hurt anybody, right?” She furthered.
My mind couldn’t help but bring up Nicole. She wouldn’t like what I was thinking, but what Nicole didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. Besides, this was to help her best friend. I’d be helping a good person stay where they rightly belonged.
“No,” I finally surmised. “It won’t hurt anyone.”
“Will it cost you money?”
“No.”
Crossing her arms, Helen shrugged. “Then, do it. You’ve always been a fixer, Adrian. You like to fix problems, whether it benefits you or not. I saw it the moment I laid eyes on you. It makes you happy to be useful.”
“Are you secretly a psychic or something, Helen?” I teased her. “Did you see it in my aura or my palms?”
“Oh, that’s nonsense!” She laughed, dismissing the notion with a quick wave. “I’ve just worked for you for how long now?”
“It will be sixteen years this July,” I proclaimed.
She smiled brightly. “You can learn a lot about a person over fifteen years, but there are some things that are just obvious. You’re a good man, Adrian Davis. It’s why I’ve put up with your foolishness all this time.”
“What foolishness?” I chuckled.
Helen didn’t answer.
Turning away, she declared, “I’m still going to be back in twenty minutes for that paperwork!”
It didn’t take me that long to sign the dotted lines. They were just some claims that needed approval and a few contracts that needed updating. It was all just the humdrum life of running an insurance business, but what I was thinking about felt much more exhilarating.
It wasn’t like me to trick the United States government. I’d been faithful to my country and paid all taxes. I spent eighteen months away from my wife and young daughter managing a submarine’s communications in the Pacific Ocean. For that sacrifice, I felt that gave me some entitlement to be just a little unscrupulous. I’d earned the right to twist the laws in Jessica’s favor.
I just needed her to agree to my plan first.
Pulling up my email, I ignored the twenty-some unread messages. I instead looked for the email chain about Jessica’s birthday party. It was in my trash, but it was still there. Among the list was Jessica’s work email. It was the only contact information I had for her, so it would have to do.
There was no good way to explain myself via cold and emotionless email. I wrote three different paragraphs and deleted them all. With a sigh, I finally decided to keep the message bare bones and maybe a little vague. I didn’t want Jessica Cartier to get the wrong idea about what I was proposing.
Dear Jessica,
I’ve been thinking about your predicament. I enjoyed having lunch with you this week, but it’s worrying me to consider that you might be forced to leave your home. If you would agree to meet with me soon, I think I know a way to solve your problems. We could do it over a meal again or coffee if you prefer. Please reply as you’re able.
Until then,
Adrian
I clicked send before I could second guess myself. With a wary exhale, I finally looked at the emails I’d been avoiding. There was nothing I could do now. I just had to sit, wait, and hope that Jessica would agree.
I didn’t have much to offer her, but I did have myself. I just prayed it would be enough.
