Page 2 of A Love Unexpected

My eyebrows shoot up. I know I must look befuddled, but I am having a hard time grasping what he’s trying to say. Finally, I guffaw and say a little too loudly, “What am I supposed to do, Paul? Purchase a mail-order bride from Russia?”

I hear David snicker from the chair next to me, but after Paul shoots a glare in his direction, he quickly disguises the chuckle as a cough.

“I’m certain a Russian bride would not win over the American people, Madden. Try to take this seriously.” Paul lets out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “Listen, you are a young, handsome man from a well-respected family. There must be a line of excellent young ladies trying to catch your eye. Or, if you’re already seeing someone, now would be the perfect time to settle down.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting that I get married just for this political campaign, are you?” I take a moment to contemplate, but the longer I think about it, the hotter my anger boils inside of me. “All I want to do is get to Congress and help make positive change for the American people. And you’re telling me the very people I want to help will doubt my motives just because there isn’t a woman by my side?”

“You’re upset. I understand. But you have to remember the demographics of Kansas’s fourth district. Fifty-six percent of residents are married, and on average those married couples have two to three children. It’s a near certainty that whoever runs against you will not only be married with children, but will also be a Republican. That means that, right off the bat, over half the population will identify more strongly with your opponent than with you.” Paul comes around my chair and places his hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture.

I take a deep breath. “This is ridiculous. I’ve lived in Kansas my entire life. I know the needs of the people here, not to mention that my father is a well-known orthopedic surgeon in the area and has secured a lot of supporters for me with his pull alone. But none of that matters if I don’t have a ring on my finger?” When did I get transported back to the pioneer days?

Paul rubs his temples. “By your reaction, I assume you don’t have a serious girlfriend?”

“No, Paul, I’m afraid I’m very single.” I don’t even attempt to hide my sarcasm.

David stands and begins pacing in front of the fireplace. “Okay, Madden, I know this isn’t ideal, and I assume you haven’t even entertained the idea of marriage since you and Jen broke up–”

I scoff, and David holds up his hands in acknowledgment. “Just go with me on this. What about... a marriage of convenience?”

I stare at David in utter confoundment. He must take my silence for approval because he continues. “I mean, arranged marriages–er, marriages of convenience–have been going on for centuries. Maybe this is just my logical CPA brain talking, but if we take romance out of the equation and just find a woman who holds the same values as you, we could make this work. And he has some time, right Paul?”

Paul perks up a bit. “Good point, David.”

“What sane woman would agree to marry me on the fly?”

David’s smile falters. “Well, we have time to figure that out.”

Paul turns his attention back to me. “Do you remember the Nebraskan senator I was campaign manager for two years ago? He was much older than you, but he married the daughter of an influential man to gain supporters. They ended up falling in love and are extremely happy together today. It happens more than you’d think.”

I scrub my hand down my face, exhausted by this conversation. I can almost feel my lifelong dreams slipping through my fingers. “This is madness. A marriage of convenience?”

“I’m sure it seems archaic, but this wouldn’t be the first time a politician considered this kind of arrangement for political pull. Think of it as an alliance, like one country helping another,” Paul offers.

Shaking my head back and forth, I stand. “I need some time to think about this.”

David and Paul nod and say their goodbyes, but I hardly hear them. As I drive home to my apartment, feeling exasperated, I know that I’m in for the most sleepless night of my adult life.

I wake up the next morning feeling stiff and exhausted from tossing and turning all night. Deciding I need to focus on work instead of dwelling on my marital status, I walk to grab my laptop off my desk in the corner, but find it empty. I sigh. I must have left the laptop at my parent’s house in my rush to leave last night.

I grab my wallet and shoot Mom a text, letting her know I’m on my way over.

Compared with bigger cities, Wichita’s morning traffic is pretty mild, so I make it across town to College Hill quickly. After pulling my Audi into my parents’ driveway, I walk across the yard and straight into their house without knocking. My parents tend to be on the formal side, but they have always made it clear to me and my three younger siblings that their door is always open to us.

Striding into the dining room, I see my parents sitting at opposite ends of the large dining table, as usual. Despite having the day off, my dad is wearing slacks and a long-sleeved dress shirt. His formerly blonde hair, now turned grey, is combed neatly to the side, and his blue eyes are focused on the newspaper in front of him. My mother, who also doesn’t know the wonder that is sweat pants, is wearing a long-sleeved, crew-neck dress in a lilac color. She looks as lovely as ever, with her dark brown hair and high cheekbones.

“Good morning! Have some coffee if you want it.” Dad looks up at me over his newspaper and pauses. “Well, you look awful. On second thought, please get yourself some coffee right away.”

I roll my eyes. Coffee sounds incredible, though, so I make my way toward the kitchen. Tragically, Mom glances up from her Kindle as I pass her chair. “Oh, my. You do look terrible. I had assumed that your father was just being critical, as usual.” She narrows her eyes at Dad, who expertly ignores her.

“I didn’t sleep much last night.” I run my fingers through my already messed up hair. “I’ll tell you about it after I have some coffee. Maybe you two can help.” My parents look confused but stay quiet until I return to the dining room a moment later with my steaming mug.

After taking a seat and savoring a few sips of my coffee in silence, Dad folds his newspaper and lays it to the side. “Okay, what can we help with?”

With a deep breath, I catch them up on my conversation with Paul and David from the night before, recanting the dilemma of my singleness and apparently needing a wife to get a seat in Congress.

When I finish, Dad furrows his brow. “That’s preposterous. Does this Paul fellow even know what he’s talking about?”

I grimace. “Yes. Paul emailed me the links to his research last night. I scrolled through some of it and it checks out.”