Chapter 4 - Keep Your Friends Close

Saturday, January 12th, 2013 - Days Married: 13

"I need you."

Danny pulls the phone away and looks at the caller ID, just to be sure, before pushing it back to his ear. Rolling the stool he's sitting on further away from the exam table, he bites back a smirk. "Who is this?"

Mindy huffs into the phone. "I need you to come over and help me with something. It's important."

"What?"

"Um, it's kind of a carpentry project. You look like you've built things before."

"No, Mindy. I'm with a patient right now."

"Then why'd you answer your phone? And why are you working on a Saturday?"

"I, unlike some peo-" he starts.

"Doesn't matter. Come over as soon as you're finished with this appointment." Danny doesn't have a chance to reply before the line goes dead.

She has to duck her head a little to sit on the bottom bunk next to him. "I'm so gonna score godmother points with this thing. Thank you so much for helping me with this, Danny."

He turns to her, eyebrows raised, and she amends her comment. "Thank you for single-handedly assembling the bunk bed for me, you narcissist. God, sometimes you're the worst."

"Good job with the compliment. Thanks."

There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and she tucks her leg under her and turns toward him. Curiosity has been tugging at her ever since he brought it up earlier, and she can't resist asking about it now. "So you seriously raised your little brother?"

"Oh." He looks surprised. "Um, well, yeah. Kinda. Not completely by myself or anything, we had our ma around." She nods and hopes that's enough to get him to continue. "She had at least two jobs, though. Sometimes three. So there was a lot of time just the two of us. Plus he's a lot younger than me-"

"So he's around my ag-"

"Don't say it." He holds his hand out, cutting her off. "We're not having this argument again. No, he's nine years younger than me. I don't know - it wasn't anything special. I just tried to do good by him."

"Like how?"

Danny shrugs and mirrors the way she's sitting so that he's leaned against one of the posts, facing her. "Teach him things. How to throw a baseball. Not get his ass kicked at school. I don't know - make sure that when Ma was working nights there was a decent supper cooked and help him with his homework."

"Aw, Danny. That's really sweet." She splays her fingers across his knee. "Is that why you don't want kids? Because in a way it already feels like you've been there, done that?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his T-shirt straining. "I never said I didn't want kids."

"Oh." She just assumed. Honestly Mindy can picture him clearly with a brood of grumpy little brats who all look just like him, Danny's hair grey from finally getting back ten-fold everything he's ever dished out. She'd pay to see that, actually. "So you want kids. Why don't you have any then?"

"I don't - You know that's very personal. Why do you even care?"

"Never said I cared. I'm just curious. And don't avoid the question."

He huffs out a breath, lips pursed, and there's a moment she thinks he's going to evade again. "There was a time when I did want kids, but I'm not sure that's something I want anymore. Plus it's not like I'm really in a position for that."

"So your wife didn't want kids? And now you're too old? Is that it?"

He grins, and there's a little mischievousness hiding behind it. "Which wife?"

"Ugh," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "That's gross. Don't bring me into this; I'm not having your babies. Oh! You did start the annulment paperwork, right?"

"No, and no."

"What does that mean? Are you going to hold me hostage as your wife until I agree to let you impregnate me? Because that's not going to happen, buddy. I was not serious about us having genetically blessed, hairy children."

"No, I haven't started the annulment paperwork yet. But it's only been like a week, so calm down. I'll start on it as soon as I have an off day. And no," he says a little more hesitantly. "Christina didn't want children."

"Oh. And you did? Is that why you two got divorced?"

"Partly. We wanted different things, in a lot of ways, and it was too much. It pulled us apart. That," he tips his head like he's unsure how to phrase what he's about to say, "and it had a lot to do with me finding her having sex with someone else in our bed."

"Oh my God, Danny. Are you serious?"

He nods and doesn't look at her. "That was pretty much that." A dark smile slowly paints his face that is nearly painful to behold. "Good thing we didn't have those kids I wanted, huh?"

Damn. Suddenly a bunch of jokes she's made about his wife leaving him feel a lot more mean-spirited than she meant them. Mindy reaches forward, grabbing his hand and hoping a few trite words will cover a number of ills. "I'm sorry."

He squeezes her fingers back and finally meets her eyes again. "Thanks."

She means to say something else, means to move her hand. Somehow whatever it was she intended has evaporated. It can't even be as long as a minute, but they stay like that until there's a knock on the door.

Mindy pushes onto her tiptoes, stretching to reach the wineglasses.

"So, you and Riley seemed to actually have a nice evening. Just the two of you."

Corking the bottle of decent red after pouring a generous amount in each glass, she narrows her eyes at her friend. "You mean that to sound like a compliment, but I hear the skepticism in your tone. For the record, things were a little touch and go at the beginning, sure. But it turns out I have a very natural rapport with children. Your kid loves me."

"There was never any doubt in that. I am glad, though, to see you two bonding. You should spend more time together, just the two of you. It will be good experience for when you finally get off your ass and make me a godmother."

Mindy snorts into her wineglass before taking a gulp.

"What? You roll your eyes at me every time I suggest you spend bonding time with my daughter. It isn't about free childcare, Mindy," she says before muttering. "Not always, anyway."

"No, no, Gwen. It's not that. Just reminded me of something Danny and I were talking about earlier. You're right. I should put in more time being Cool Aunt Mindy."

"Thank you, yes. You should." They wander from the kitchen and take opposite sides of the sofa so they can both stretch out, legs aligned and feet at the others' hip. "I'm not sure I see it, by the way."

"Hmm? See what?" Mindy picks at the edge of a throw pillow.

"You've told me some of the stuff he's said to you before - which I still agree is terrible - but honestly Danny didn't seem like all that much of a jerk to me."

"Ha! Get to know him better." There's a sick, tugging feeling in the pit of her stomach as soon as the words are out of her mouth and Mindy takes a long sip of her wine. "That's - I don't mean that. Did I call him a jerk?"

"That. And several other, more colorful things. The rant at our 4th of July picnic last year was especially vulgar."

She remembers the picnic... but no. Mindy doesn't have any memory of some supposed rant, well-articulated or otherwise.

"Do you really not remember this? I had to lie to my child and tell her a douche nozzle was an attachment for the garden hose."

"Are you sure I said that? Because - and I'm being honest here Gwen, because I love you - but sometimes you can be a little dramatic about remembering things."

"YES! I cannot believe you're sitting here telling me that you have no recollection of - no. No." Gwen wiggles the fingers of her right hand, still partially wrapped around her wineglass, in the air between them. "I'm not doing this. Let's start over." She clears her throat and takes a deep breath, her voice soft and even when she speaks again. "Your coworker Danny seems like a fairly nice guy."

"Eh," she shrugs. "Sometimes he can be a real jerk."

Mindy shrieks and has to duck to miss the pillow chucked at her face, Gwen somehow managing impressive dexterity with her left arm despite the cast. The deep-red wine in her glass comes dangerously close to splashing. "I'm kidding! Stop. He's not a jerk. Every once in a while he will say jerk-like things, sure, but he's actually a pretty decent guy. He even rescheduled his last two appointments today to come build the bunk bed."

"Not a jerk," Gwen nods. "Also not a very good carpenter."

"No," she laughs. "He needs to work on his bolt-tightening skills apparently. I don't know. He's been surprisingly nice recently." She's not sure what changed. Mindy shakes her head and tries to pinpoint just exactly when a man she couldn't stand became her friend. "You know the whole Josh-cheating-on-me/Christmas-party-debacle? Danny canceled his date that night to stay for the rest of the party and cheer me up."

"See? That's a very thoughtful gesture. Maybe you were wrong about him."

"Gwen, I'm never wrong. You know this. Yeah, though. Maybe he's changed. I don't know. He did come over New Year's Eve so I wouldn't have to spend it alone." Mindy pushes her toes into the crevice of the sofa cushion.

"That's thoughtful. And he was very helpful getting me in immediately to see a doctor at the hospital tonight. Which I think being there may have worked out well for him, actually. He was getting this obnoxiously pretty, one-eyed girl's phone number when I came out."

"She only had one eye?" Mindy leans forward a little, her interest piqued. "She must have been amazing looking to offset that."

"Mm, I'm assuming she has both of them, there was just a patch so I couldn't tell. But even if there was a Kill Bill type situation under there, I still think she wouldn't have a hard time finding guys to date."

"Lucky." Mindy casts her eyes down and wonders what it says about her frame of mind when she's jealous of the dating prowess of a hot, maimed woman. Not every man can be like Josh, though. Right? Sure the last two serious relationships she's been in resulted in cheating and public humiliation, but she refuses to let that quash the dream of finding Mr. Right. Mindy refuses to die a lonely, beautiful spinster. Although...

"So, I forgot to mention, Danny and I are actually, kind of... married."

Gwen nods thoughtfully, taking the news surprisingly in stride. "I guess I can see that with you two. He did help you build the bed. Although I've never really understood the whole "work-married" thing. What is it? Like, there's no sex and you fight about the same stupid things over and over - like it's that hard to put your coffee cup in the dishwasher instead of just SETTING IT IN THE DAMN SINK?" Gwen takes a breath. "- but at the end of the day you're still partners? Because that does not sound dissimilar to a real marriage."

"Hmm. That is, surprisingly, accurate. But no." Mindy stretches forward precariously to snatch her phone from the coffee table. Scrolling quickly through the photos, she comes to the few she took that afternoon. Most are blurry shots of whatever random thing seemed important at the time that no longer makes sense. There are a few clear ones, and Mindy stops on a selfie of the two of them. They're in the hallway outside of the chapel, standing in front of the black and white mural of the Marriage Bureau Building, only the top part of the dome visible. Danny's almost smiling, his eyes heavy lidded and looking off somewhere just beyond the camera, and Mindy is duck-facing while still trying to project radiance, her eyes shining like glass. There is just enough showing of the marriage license they're holding up to be able to read what it is.

She shoves the phone toward Gwen.

"Is that a- Oh my- ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!" Gwen twists, reaching over her cast to set her glass on the table and then grabbing the phone from Mindy's hand. "You are actually married to this guy? How the hell could you not tell me?"

"Well, it didn't seem-"

"And why wasn't I invited? Mindy? What the hell is going on and why are being so nonchalant about your husband picking up blind women at the hospital?"

"Because it isn't real." This seemed apparent to Mindy when she started this conversation. Maybe she left out some important details.

"Okay, Mindy. Lying randomly about marrying someone? That is slightly messed up. Even for you." Gwen tosses the phone onto Mindy's lap and gets up.

"Hey. That's not a very nice thing to say to your best friend. And I didn't mean it come to out that way. We are married. Technically. He just. . . isn't my husband." She follows Gwen into the kitchen and does as her friend and refills her glass.

"Okay, then. Fine. Let's back up. You're married to him, but he's not your husband? You kept it a secret for how long? And you have no problem with him picking up other women? What the hell even is that?"

"When you put it that way it - well - it sounds only slightly more strange than what it actually is. It was just a mistake. We were very drunk. And shockingly well organized and connected. And yeah. We got married on New Year's Eve."

"Unbelievable."

"It is, really. And it especially was for Danny, because he is not a good drunk-rememberer."

"No. You're unbelievable. And I know, okay, I understand everything that happened with Josh, and that he was a class-A asshole. But instead of spending the night with all your friends who love you, you get loaded and marry a guy from work you barely like?"

"Well-"

"This is why we don't set you up anymore, Mindy. You say you have your life together and then you do things like this. It's one extreme to another. Either you say you're blissfully happy and everything in your life is perfect. Or you go completely off the rails and do something idiotic like this."

Tears sting the backs of her eyes, and Mindy wonders why in the hell she thought it was a good idea to tell Gwen about this in the first place. She should know better by now. And she can't put her finger on what hurts more: her best friend's unbridled contempt, or the truth underlying all of it? Swallowing hard, she tries to pull it together enough to not be the mess she's accused of being. Because her instinct right now is to either lash out and defend herself in the most pain-inflicting way, or storm out. But it's her apartment and Mindy refuses to give Gwen the satisfaction and prove her point for her. She did that at Thanksgiving and it's time for a new tact.

"You're right. It was stupid and irresponsible. It'll be over, like it never happened, just as soon as Danny's done with the annulment papers." She takes a dainty sip, even though she wants to drain the glass, and finally meets her friend's gaze. "And look on the bright side. You can add this to all the many other "Mindy's Such A Train Wreck" stories."

Gwen's eyes soften slightly, but she doesn't correct her.

A/N: In honor of this being TMP premiere week (or as some of us very ladylike dames refer to it: We Fuck Tuesday), I'm saying screw my posting schedule. Chapter five will be up some time before Tuesday.