It took 17 days for their annulment to be officially granted. And though she'd reassured herself during that time that the judge's decision could only be one thing, Iris was almost lightheaded with relief to see his decision in writing. She knew that the white boy would be even happier about the news. His desperation to be erased from their faux marriage was almost comical. Iris was convinced that he told himself that while the experience was a nightmare for him, it was probably a treasured memory where she was concerned.
In the beginning he'd called daily hoping for an update. It hadn't taken long for that to work Iris' last nerve and she warned the white boy not to call but to wait for word from her. In the meantime she occupied her time working on sketches she had been commissioned to create for a local bakery. Still, every time the postman walked up her drive, Iris held her breath. She would never want the white boy to know that she was as nervous as him.
Craig started calling a few days after her airport visit. His first call had been to curse her out and then demand that Iris go back to the limousine terminal and recant everything she said. She hung up on him mid-sentence and then let the answering machine intercept all the angry calls that followed.
His second call (two days later) showed up on the answering machine as the You Can Hurry Love Chapel. Iris didn't hesitate to answer the call. She thought it might be Brother Love and there was too much at stake regarding the annulment for her not to answer. Craig wasn't making demands this time. Instead he tried to bargain - Iris' assistance in saving his job in exchange for what he had. Iris knew that there was nothing Craig had that was of any value to her. So once again she hung up on him.
Around 10 a.m. the next day Craig called again. This time Iris could barely make out what he was saying. Iris was pretty sure he was near tears. He kept making that sound little kids do when they trying to suck back snot. 'You ain't had to do that! I lost my job! I loved that job!' Yeah, well karma was a snaggletooth bitch. Bam, muhfucka!
Thinking about Craig and his situation was just icing on a wonderful day. He had lost his job and gone viral on Facebook for all the wrong reasons. The official annulment papers had arrived and Iris was now rid of her skinny white boy husband. Yeah, a wonderful day.
Iris spread all of the pages of the annulment on the kitchen table and photographed them one by one. She'd send a copy to the white boy and that would be that. Giving into impulse, Iris put aside her cellphone and grabbed a small canvas from her studio. She closed her eyes and dashed off an exaggerated sketch of her 'ex-husband'. He had a huge oversized head, a stick figure torso, and a cleft in his chin so deep it looked like ass crack.
It was a playful rendition, full of all the joy Iris was feeling at being able to press the reset button of her life. She stared at the sketch for a second then added a sprawling message across the corner. "Good Riddance, Skinny White Boy". She photographed the sketch and sent it along with the annulment papers to the phone number the white boy had insisted she program into her phone. It was her first time - and only time - to use it. As soon as he let her know that he had received the two emails, Iris intended to delete his number from her contacts. It wasn't like she couldn't get in touch with him if she needed. All his information was listed on the annulment decree. But she wouldn't need to contact him again. Ever. In a couple of weeks the skinny white boy would be just a distant memory.
Liar! A little voice put Iris in check. The skinny white boy would never be just a distant memory – not with all the flashbacks of their wedding night that she'd been getting lately. Her favorite flashback (a very vivid one that came to her without warning) was of the skinny white boy's face buried between her thighs working her pussy over. Every time she was just about to cum, he took his foot off the gas and made Iris beg for it.
And she did. Like Keith Sweat.
And when the white boy finally gave her what she wanted, she couldn't do nothing but lay there and catch her breath and glare at him, his face all shiny like he been eating a Popeyes three piece dinner. Iris felt a flutter deep in her belly. Too bad the white boy she woke up beside was nothing like the one who had worked her over. They could have had some fun the rest of that weekend.
Iris' phone rang. The display lit up, announcing the caller. Skinny White Boy. Iris shook her head and slid the tab that sent the call to voicemail. Almost immediately the phone began to ring again. Again Iris sent the call to voicemail. After several instances of this, Iris answered the call with a snarl. "What do you want, white boy? Well?" she demanded into the silence.
"I'm sorry," her newly ex-husband said. "I was just trying to figure out if you were going soft on me. You called me white boy, not skinny white boy. Having second thoughts about the annulment?"
For a moment Iris was tempted to say she was. That skinny white boy would run screaming out of town if she did. But she understood his mood. She was feeling good herself. Now that they were officially strangers. "Fuck you," she retorted.
"Ha." His voice became soft, kind. "But, really-"
"Good riddance, skinny white boy," Iris interrupted. "Go find a tampon for that period of yours." Abruptly she ended the call and without hesitation deleted Darryl Pine's contact information from her phone. It was the one time she would think of him by name. He wouldn't know it but somehow it added a sense of closure to the entire strange experience.
