"You had a boyfriend? This guy was your boyfriend?"
Iris' spine stiffened. "Yeah, I had a man. You think that just because I am not one of those skinny little toothpick women you probably date that I don't have nobody? For your information, real men like a little cushion for the pushin'."
A little cushion? Darryl knew his thoughts were unkind, but Iris' size was the least of her obstacles to romance. Or so he'd thought. But the guy in the video who had acted as their witness was actually pretty good looking. He must have seen something in Iris that Darryl could not. She was rude, abrasive, blunt, and frankly, still looked like Forest Whitaker in a wig. But she was filled with a sense of self-confidence and self-worth that was intriguing.
"So you're telling me that this witness of yours knew you were unable to consent?"
Darryl had been so engrossed in his conversation with Iris that he'd forgotten all about Brother Love. His eyes widened as he turned and took in the man's appearance. Unlike the Ike Turner persona he'd been dressed in when they first arrived, now he was dressed as the Vulcan Spock from Star Trek.
"Craig is behind this shit," Iris declared when Darryl stood there tongue-tied. "I guarantee it."
"Well," the officiant repeated, "as I said, we don't handle annulments here. You will have to go down to the courthouse on Monday and sign papers."
"Monday?"
"Yes. Today is Saturday," Brother Love said as though Darryl was simple. "The courthouse is closed on the weekends."
Darryl bit back a curse. "But once we sign the papers, the marriage will be dissolved, right?"
Brother Love nodded. "In about three weeks, provided you meet the requirements. You sign the papers, you abstain from further sex and you swear that you don't recall getting married because of some fraud."
"Not a problem on the sex." "Not gonna happen again." Iris and Darryl chimed in simultaneously.
"Then there you go." The officiant ejected the disk and handed it to Darryl. "I usually charge a hundred dollars for a copy of your special day but I'm going to give it to you guys half off. Don't worry," he assured Darryl, "I've still got your credit card number on file."
Darryl made a mental note to cancel the card as soon as he could. "Well, thank you for your help, sir."
"You're welcome. And who knows, maybe you two lovebirds will decide to stay together. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got another wedding in a few minutes." Brother Love held up his hand in a Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."
"You, too." Iris lowered her voice. "Crazy ass fool."
Darryl bit back a smile at Iris' response. When she was not addressing her sarcasm at him, he found it easy to be amused at her abrasive attitude. "So, what now?"
"Now you pay for my ride home and I meet you at the courthouse Monday."
"I paid for the video," Darryl complained. "Why am I paying for your cab home?"
"Cause you got a night of good pussy fa free. From where I'm standing, you making out like a bandit."
Darryl quickly complied. The subject of sex between them was one he wasn't willing to have there on the curb.
They waited in silence for the cab's arrival. It didn't take long. Once it arrived, Darryl surprised them both by climbing into the cab after her. Iris glared at him, but he met her scowl calmly. "We haven't had a chance to talk," he said. "And calling me 'skinny white boy' over and over doesn't count as conversation."
From the set of her pronounced jaw Darryl could tell that his 'wife' did not care for his sudden assertion of control. Throughout the ten minute ride Iris cast repeated angry glances his way, otherwise she stared pointedly at the passing scenery. Soon enough the cab began to maneuver through clean, quiet streets far removed from the glitter and bustle of the Las Vegas known to tourists. The cab driver announced their arrival at their destination and Darryl and Iris disembarked from the cab.
"This is nice." Darryl took in Iris's compact, one-story home. It sat on about 1 acre of land and was neatly kept and landscaped. "How long have you lived here?"
Iris ignored his questions. She retrieved a fake rock from the flower bed near the door. She punched in a code on the bottom of the rock and a small compartment slid open, revealing a single key. "Is that what you followed me home to talk about? Where I live?" She stepped into the house, leaving Darryl to follow her inside. Or not.
"I was hoping we could try to piece together any of the last 24 hours. I don't get married every day," Darryl said. "I would kind of like to remember how it happened."
"Fine. But first I'm going to change out of these clothes. I feel funky." Iris moved toward the door on the right. She stopped, turned around and pointed a finger at Darryl. "You," she commanded. "Sit. Stay."
For a few minutes, Darryl complied. When he was sure Iris would not stick her head into the room to check, he got up and began to explore. The first door on the left was the kitchen. It was bright and clean, with marble counters and a large stainless steel refrigerator. He took a quick look inside and snagged a pack of string cheese and some grapes and continued checking out the house.
The next room stopped Darryl in his tracks. Most of the available surfaces in the room were covered in pencils and chalks and graphite pens. Darryl curiously approached the wooden easel positioned near the single window in the room. He threw back the ivory-colored cheesecloth that hid the easel's contents and gaped. The beginnings of a sketch of a little girl jumping rope were penciled onto the canvas. The lines were clean and delicate. Her carefully braided pigtails bounced in the air. And even in its infancy the sketch perfectly captured the joy on the little girl's face. The drawing was so realistic that Darryl half expected the little girl to move.
"Is it all white people who got no understanding...or just you?" Iris elbowed Darryl aside and re-covered the canvas with the cheesecloth.
"That's beautiful! You could make a living doing this."
"No, thanks. My three baby daddies do me just fine with child support." After a beat, Iris laughed. The sound contained no humor. "Boy, you shoulda seen your face. I don't have no kids." She shook her head. "White people." She led him back into the living room. "And for the record, I do make cash from this. As a matter of fact, it's how we met yesterday." Darryl's startled gaze flew to hers. "I remembered," Iris shrugged, "as soon as I saw you staring at my picture."
End Notes:
ex-Boyfriend Craig (Lahmard Tate)
