Page 18 of Playing Along

We reach a red light and I look over at Nora, expecting to see her crying or at the very least on the verge of tears. But instead she’s just sitting there, eyes straight ahead, a dull, vacant expression on her pretty face.

She’s given up.

And that is something I cannot allow.

“I may not have to perjure myself,” I say carefully.

“What are you going to do— feign muteness?” she says dryly, still staring listlessly ahead.

I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. Memories of how poorly this went last time assault me.

“We could get married,” I say, injecting as much casualness into my voice as I can. I’m cool.

Casual. Chhiilll. Chiller than Chili’s baby back ribs.

Nora doesn’t say anything for a long time.

“Nora?” I finally prompt.

“I’m sorry, I think I just hallucinated. I thought you said we should get married.” She lets out a high-pitch laugh.

“I didn’t say we should,” I reply. “I said we could. Like it’s an option on the table.”

“You want to get married?”

“Again, I didn’t say that I want to get married. I said we could.”

“But why? Do detectives’ wives have some sort of immunity I don’t know about?”

“Yeah, Nor, didn’t you hear? If you’re married to a cop you can kill anyone you want,” I answer, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well,” she cries defensively, “what was I supposed to think? I don’t see how getting married helps us here unless it’s conjugal visits you’re after.”

My cheeks burn with anger. “Conjugal visits? Are you freaking kidding me, Nora? That’s why you think I made the suggestion. Nice to know you think so highly of me.”

She’s quiet. I’ve chastened her.

“I’m sorry, Jack. You’re right. That was horrible of me to accuse you of that.”

How does she always disarm me like this? Seconds ago I was spitting mad, now I want to wrap her in a hug.

“I suggested marriage because of spousal immunity,” I tell her, eyes focused on the road, heart focused on her. “If we’re married I can’t be forced to testify against you. In fact, even if I wanted to, legally I can’t testify against you without your consent.”

“Wait, that’s real?” Nora shifts in her seat, angling her body toward mine. “I thought that was just on cop shows and stuff.”

“It’s real. See section 600.2162 of Michigan Legislature if you don’t believe me.”

Nora fiddles with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I don’t need to look it up. Of course I believe you, it’s just…marriage?” She drops the sleeve and folds her hands in her lap. “That’s a big ask.”

Irritation flares in my chest, closely followed by a fresh wave of the feelings of inadequacy her original rejection left me with. “Silly me, I didn’t realize that a life spent in prison was better than one spent with me.”

She sucks in a breath. “I didn’t mean a big ask for me, Jack,” she says softly. “I meant that it’s a big ask for me to make of you.”

There she goes again, stripping me of all my weapons.

“It’s not that big of an ask,” I downplay the offer. “Just think of it as me asking you to be my roommate.”

She laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, your roommate to whom you’re legally bound.”

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