Dawn Atkins - Wilde for You

“You’d be perfect,” Forest said to Anna. “You know Tuck and you want the best for him.”

“No,” Tucker said. “That would be crazy.”

“Not necessarily,” Anna said. “I could go to the potluck and impress everyone.”

“Too much of an imposition,” Tucker said, trying to head her off. “You live miles away. There will be more than a potluck to attend, I’m sure.”

“But if I were a pilot, I’d have the excuse of working out of town a lot.” She tapped her finger on her lip, looking Tuck over. “You want to make a good impression, don’t you? You don’t want to sound like an idiot or a letch, right? Or like you’re hiding a sordid past?”

“Of course not.”

“Because that’s how you’ll sound if you tell the truth now.”

“But still…”

“And you can pay us back baby-sitting the twins while Forest and I go away for a weekend or two.”

“Thanks for the offer, Anna, but it’s too complicated.”

“You don’t think I can do it, do you?” Anna said. “I have an acting background, you know. I was great as Emily in Our Town at the community college. Everyone said I had talent.”

Forest snorted. Anna slugged him and he said, “Ouch.”

“I’m sure you’re very talented, Anna, but—”

“Pretending to be married would be good for you, Tuck,” Forest said, leveling him a look. “It’ll keep you out of equipment closets with passing women.” Forest had been completely disgusted by the Melissa encounter and felt obliged to give the big-brother glare from time to time.

“So, I’ll go to the potluck with you,” Anna said, getting into it, “and maybe a faculty party at Christmas. I could spend an occasional weekend at your place. There’s that candy factory out there I love and some antique stores, so I could get some shopping out of it.” Anna scooted to the edge of the sofa in her excitement. “And the rest of the time I’ll jet the globe as a pilot. I always thought that would be a great career. And you love a woman in uniform, right?” She batted her eyes at him.

“Good lord.”

“Forest, you’ll have to take over the boys when I’m in Copper Corners with Tucker,” Anna shot at her husband.

“No prob. To help Tuck out I’ll be glad to babysit.”

“Baby-sit? Ha!” she replied with a snort. “How come when a dad takes care of his kids it’s baby-sitting? And that does not mean letting them climb the curtains while you watch ESPN, either.”

“I can handle it, don’t worry.”

“I’m starting to love this idea,” Anna said. “Plus, I can make sure the principal knows how committed and dedicated and faithful you are, right, Tuck?”

“I don’t see how this could work, Anna,” he said uneasily, but a twinge of hope rose, all the same.

“Call me Julie. And of course it will work. We’ll make it work.”

“I’ll go get the spare ring,” Forest said, jumping up.

“I think I know where the negative for this photo is,” Anna said, scrutinizing the framed shot, “so we can make a print for your wallet.”

“A photo on my desk would be plenty, but…we’d better think this through.” Why was he even considering going along with the Forest-Anna steamroller? Only because of his desperation to not look like an idiot to Harvey. He needed the man’s confidence in him. And part of that confidence was knowing he was stable and married, not a lying single fake.

“Don’t worry, Tucker,” Anna said. “This is a good thing. This way you can really be the dedicated guy you want to be. You’ll be married to your job. Literally.”

Before he could reply, Forest returned, polishing the ring in his shirttail. He plopped it onto Tucker’s palm.

There it sat…the symbol of eternal love and fidelity.

That Tucker would be faking. He almost handed it back.

He hated starting out at Copper Corners on the wrong foot—letting the misunderstanding become a false life. On the other hand, it was almost poetic that sex was messing him up again—his last impulsive behavior. This was a warning.

And it was true that being married—even as a pretense—would keep him on the straight and narrow when it came to women. And he’d do such good work that in the end the charade wouldn’t matter a bit.

But could a wedding band, a photo on his desk and an occasional appearance by his wife be enough to fake a marriage? Hard to believe. Tucker tucked the ring in his pocket. He’d have to think about it.

ON HIS FIRST DAY at Copper Corners High, Tucker strode purposefully toward the administration building to talk to Harvey Winfield, fingering the wedding band in his pocket as he walked. He’d decided to tell Harvey the truth. He wasn’t married. It was all a misunderstanding.

He dreaded how stupid he’d sound, but the fake marriage was too weird, no matter how enthusiastic Anna and Forest were about the idea. This was no way to launch his career. Anna would be disappointed, of course—she planned to drive down tomorrow to organize the house he’d rented—but he had to do the right thing.

Once inside the building, Tucker found Harvey at the reception desk. Perfect. He’d just get it over with and start fresh.

As an idiot.

“Good to see you, Tucker.” Harvey shook his hand, gripping Tuck’s forearm with his other hand, his eyes warm with affection.

Do it now. Tell him. “I need to clear something up, Harvey.”

“Sure thing, but before I forget, your wife called. What a delightful woman. She said to tell you to feel free to work as late as you want, since she has plenty to do at the house. She knows how dedicated you are.”

“She does?” he said blankly. Anna must have arrived early and called out here to impress Harvey with Tuck’s commitment and her support. Damn, she was good.

“She wanted to know what to bring to the potluck next week.” Harvey smiled. “You’re a lucky man, Tucker. She reminds me of my Nadine. It’s so fortunate that she’ll be in town for the dinner. Sounds like the airline keeps her quite busy.”

“Oh, yes, she’s one busy woman, all right,” he said, blowing out a breath. How could he tell Harvey the truth now? His fake wife had sealed his fate. A misunderstanding was one thing, but a plot with coconspirators? With a sigh, Tuck put his hand into his pocket and slid the ring onto his fourth finger. It felt strange—heavy, like the lie pressing in on his chest—but he’d make the best of it.

“Let’s get you started,” Harvey said. “We’ve got some papers to sign, of course, but I want you to know right off the bat that I’m going to give you free rein here. I’ve been accused of being a micromanager, Tucker, but I’ve turned over a new leaf. The best way to learn this job is to live this job. You’d think after thirty years at it, I’d figure that out. So if you’d keep me posted on your activities—regular updates now—we’ll be fine. I know you won’t let me down.”

And he wouldn’t. He’d do everything he could to justify Harvey’s faith in him. The fake marriage was a glitch, but he’d just think of himself as married to the job, like Anna had said, and that would have to do.

TWO WEEKS LATER, Tucker saved the changes he’d made in the new computerized class schedule, stood and stretched. He wanted to greet the teachers setting up their rooms early and see what he could do to help them. School would start in a week.

He looked around his office—his first as an administrator. He loved it. The room was tiny, his wooden desk shabby and scarred, his chair in danger of collapsing and his computer practically pre-DOS, but he’d filled the shelves with his own books and professional journals, along with the district’s curriculum manuals, hung the walls with motivational posters and artwork, and organized his desk so that the place felt like home.