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"It'll never work!" Davy said as he shook his head. "I don't see how marrying me off is going to bring in any publicity."
"Davy, I'm telling you, it's only for a short time." Tom, their publicity agent, said. "We find a girl who is willing to marry you, and let's admit it, there are thousands of them. We get you through the wedding with reporters and photographers there, the magazines makes a big thing of it. Then after a few months when things have quieted down, and people forget about it, you two get the divorce, which will snap those reporters back into action in no time."
"Can't Micky just jump off a bridge or something?" Davy asked.
"Hey!" Micky's protest came from where he was seated on the other side of the room.
"One thing I don't get, Tom, alot of these chics really dig Davy. If he marries, it's going to take away from that play-boy image that they like." Mike spoke up.
"So let them cry into their pillows for a few weeks. When he gets the divorce, they'll be even more eager to see him, thinking he's actually serious about marriage." Tom smiled as his plan opened up more doors than he had even thought of before.
"Has anybody thought about the girl?" Peter asked.
"What about her?" Tom asked.
"Well she might not dig the divorce part of it." Peter said.
"He's right. What if she's not willing to give me a divorce?" Davy asked.
"Don't worry about that. We'll find the girl, explain everything to her, and even have her sign some papers for your own protection." Tom answered. "Well?"
The room was silent for a few minutes, each Monkee thinking about the pros and cons of the situation.
Mike finally looked at Davy.
"It's your marriage, your call." he said.
"It's only for a few months?" Davy asked Tom.
"I guarantee it." Tom smiled.
"Fine! I'll do it." Davy finally conceded.
----
Anna Worthington busily scrubbed the counter of the diner where she'd put in more hours than she'd care to think.
She spent most of her time working there to keep money in her pocket to pay the rent to her small apartment and the few other bills she had gained. It would seem she had no life outside of the diner and the church she faithfully attended each Sunday.
A few of the workers got onto her about this, saying she needed to get out and have fun while she was still young. Unfortunatly that was not possible when living on your own. You gain something called responsibility which most girls her age didn't acquire yet.
But she couldn't really complain. She had her own place, she ate well and she made enough money to get by, which was more than some people could say.
As she continued her work, the bell above the door ring, letting her know she had a customer.
She looked towards the door. Davy Jones. He was so conceited. You'd think the world revolved around him.
Yet no matter how often she tried to fight it, she always felt this strange attraction towards him. They had only talked a few times. He told her about his home in England, and she in turn told him a little about her own stomping grounds in Kentucky.
But that was the only time they had really talked. She couldn't say they were friends exactly, just good acquaintances.
This time he was with another man, about as tall as he was round, with a balding spot on the top of his head.
They both sat at the counter, but didn't let up on the conversation they were having. Anna could tell it was a serious one, just by the looks on their faces, and tones of their voice.
"Hello, Mr. Jones. What can I get for you and your friend here?" Anna smiled.
His eyes softened slightly when he saw her.
"Hello, Anna. The usual for me, thanks." he smiled back.
"Two eggs, fried potatoes, toast and coffee." she said as she wrote it down. "Got it. And you sir?"
"Just coffee and two jelly donuts." the man replied, seemingly wanting her to hurry up so he could get back to his conversation with Davy.
"OK, I'll be right back with your orders." she smiled and went to get their coffee while she started the eggs and potatoes to frying.
She could only pick up a few things on the conversation. She knew she shouldn't listen in, but she was curious as to what got the two men so worked up.
She picked up things about contracts...a girl....marriage? Was he getting married? That was strange. In one of their few conversations, he had said something about not wanting to marry for a long time.
She brought their coffee to them, and thought she'd come right out and ask. What could it hurt?
"Who's the lucky girl?" she asked.
Both men stopped and looked at her strangely.
"What?" Davy asked.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing you two talk about marriage." she answered.
"I don't believe you're being paid to nose into other people's business, Miss...Anna." the man said, looking at her name tag.
"No, it's alright, Tom!" Davy said, then looked back at Anna. "It's a possibilty that I might be getting married soon. It's not definate yet."
"Oh, haven't found the courage to ask her, huh? Don't worry. She'd be a fool to turn you down." Anna winked and went back to the breakfast she was preparing.
So, David Jones was afraid to ask a girl to marry him. Maybe he wasn't as conceited as she had thought.
But if he was already in love with another girl, perhaps she should forget about him altogether.
----
Chapter Two
"That's it! She's the one!" Tom smiled after the girl had walked back to the eggs she was frying.
"Who? Anna?" Davy asked.
"Well who else? You heard what she just said." Tom answered.
"No, Tom. She's a nice girl. I don't want to put her through that." Davy said with finality.
"Like I said, we'll explain everything to her. She can turn you down if she wants. But if she says yes, we can have you both married by tonight." Tom said.
The phone rang, and Anna went to answer it.
"Hello?...yes he's here, just a minute." she said, then held the phone out. "Mr. Jones. It's for you."
"Thanks, Anna." he said, and took the phone. "Yeah?...no I didn't...yeah, ok....bye."
He hung up the phone, then turned to Anna.
"You wanna put that in a to-go bag, please?" he asked.
"Sure." she nodded, and got the bag and carton ready.
"Tom, I have to get back to the studio. Seems one of the takes for the show didn't come out, and we need to do it over...now! Like it couldn't wait a few more bloody hours." he shook his head.
"Well, you know how it is in show biz, babe. Gotta get it all done or the producers scream when it's not ready in time." Tom grinned as he bit into one of his donuts.
Anna handed Davy the bag, and he paid her.
"Thanks, Anna." he smiled as he rushed out the door.
"You know, that's one lonely boy." Tom said to Anna.
"Him? Lonely? He can have any girl he wants." she smiled as she went to clean a few dishes.
"Oh sure, but what do they want him for? Looks? Money? How would you like it if that was the only reason boys chased after you?" Tom asked.
"Fortunately, that's something I don't have to worry about." she chuckled.
"Naw, you're a good looking kid." Tom smiled.
"Pretty maybe, but not a raving beauty." Anna was willing to admit.
"Well, you know, I think you'd make Davy a good wife." Tom said.
"Davy? He hardly knows I'm alive." Anna smiled.
"Nonsense. You know when we were talking about marriage just a few moments ago, he said that you were the only one he'd consider having as a wife. Now don't look at me that way, it's true." Tom grinned.
"Well, thanks sir, but I'll believe it when I hear it from him, not you." Anna said.
----
Chapter three:
Later that afternoon, Anna picked up a note that was left on the counter with her name on the envelope.
Opening it, she found it was from Davy.
"Dearest Anna,
This morning when you asked me if I was afraid of asking a girl to marry me, it was true. I am afraid. I don't say this in bragging, but I know that I am able to have any girl. It's what they want me for that I despise. You are different from the others. You seem to like me for who I am, and you don't put on any aires in order to impress me. You carry yourself with grace and dignity, and you are a woman of character. I admire that, and that is why I am afraid to go on with this letter. I am afraid that I will lose the friendship that we have acquired, but if I don't ask this question, then I may lose you all together. My darling Anna, will you marry me?"
She dropped the note, and put her hand to her mouth in shock. It was true. He did want to marry her. She was the one he was afraid of asking. But why? He hardly knew her.
Perhaps he really did mean all of those reasons he gave her. If it was true, then yes! Yes, she did want to marry him.
----
"Cut!" the director called from his chair. "OK, that's it."
"Did we get it right this time?" Micky irritably asked.
"I'm really sorry about that boys. The cameraman was new, and he didn't see that the stuffed monkey was blocking Micky's face." the director once again apologized.
"I don't think anyone would have noticed." Peter joked, trying to keep the mood light.
"What is this? Pick on Micky week?" Micky complained. "First Davy wants me to jump off a bridge, and now...ah, forget it!"
"I think somebody needs some coffee." Davy commented.
"Or a severe beating." Mike grinned.
"Sorry, guys. I didn't get much sleep last night." Micky yawned.
"Oh?" three sets of eyebrows went up.
"Not what you're thinking." Micky made a face at them. "There was a movie on, set in the old west, where some guy took a bride to take care of his little boy."
"Speaking of which, have we found a bride for Davy yet?" Peter asked.
"Tom's still looking." Davy said.
"Tom's looking?" Mike exclaimed. "Shouldn't you be out hunting for your own bride?"
"Mike, I'm not marrying for love here." Davy said. "Whoever she is, she's going to know that we'll be married only for a short while. It's only for the group."
"OK, shotgun, but you'd better find out for sure that she knows this before you tie the knot." Mike smiled.
"Don't worry. I'm sure Tom will take care of it." Davy said as he dissapeared off the back of the stage and into his dressing room.
He sat down, and started wiping off the stage make-up that he and the other guys were forced to wear, when he spotted a note addressed to him on his dressing table.
"Mr. Jones,
Tom has explained everything to me, and I have agreed to become your wife for the next two months. At first I wasn't so sure about this, but I'm struggling with bills right now, and he assured me this would bring in some extra money. If you have the time, please meet me tonight at the diner at closing. I wish to discuss the wedding plans.
Your future wife,
Anna Worthington"
"She's agreed to what?" Davy yelled out in surprise.
There was a knock at the door, and Peter poked his head in.
"You ok?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh yeah, sure." Davy said absently as he continued looking at the note.
"What's up?" Peter asked as he came and stood next to Davy. He peered over his shoulder and read the note. "Looks like Tom found someone for you."
"I can't believe she'd do this." Davy said.
"You know her?" Peter asked.
"Yeah. I go to the diner for breakfast alot. That's where she works." Davy said.
"Hey! Look on the bright side. You're marrying a good cook." Peter grinned.
"But she never struck me as someone who would go that low." Davy said as he sat down on the couch.
"Are you any better?" Peter asked.
"No." Davy shook his head. "I'm not. I guess we're made for each other."
"Looks like. Who knows, maybe you'll actually fall in love with her." Peter smiled.
"No chance in a million."
----
Chapter 4
Later that evening, Anna prepared to close up the diner. She put the 'closed' sign up on the door, but left it unlocked as she continued cleaning up the mess left over from the current customers.
"Are you sure he'll be here?" Anna asked nervously.
"Look, don't worry. He's on his way. I'm sure of it." Tom smiled.
She continued wiping down the counter, her mind nervously going over what she would say when he got here.
"Did he say what time he would be here?" Anna asked.
"Just that he'd come around closing." Tom said as he sipped his coffee once more.
Anna sighed nervously, wishing that he'd hurry up and get here so that maybe these jitters would just go away.
She was wrong. As soon as she heard the bell above the door ring, she jumped as she went to face him, dropping the glass she had been washing.
"Are you alright?" Davy asked.
She nodded nervously, and bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass, mainly so she wouldn't have to face him.
It didn't work. Davy came over with a dust pan and sweeper and helped her clean up the glass from the floor.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." she whispered.
"I guess if we're going to be married, you can start calling me Davy." he smiled.
"OK, Davy." she smiled shyly.
He emptied the dust pan into the garbage, while she emptied her handful as well.
"So you explained everything to her?" Davy asked Tom who was sitting at the counter, taking everything in.
"No need to worry, boy! You know I'm always on top of everything." Tom smiled, pulling out a couple of contracts.
"Uh...Davy, you got something...dirt or something..." Tom said, pointing to the side of his face.
"Oh, excuse me." Davy said as he went into the bathroom.
"Now, Anna, I have here a couple of contracts. Nothing important, it just has to do with the studio. I need you to sign here." he said, grabbing a pen and pushing the contracts in front of her.
"What about the studio?" Anna asked.
"It's nothing, I tell you. It's just that...well you see...alot of the times, these stars try to get their wives into the act. This is just a contract stating that you don't want any part of show business. You know, for the company's sake." he explained.
"Oh, I see. Sure, I don't want any part of being in show business." she said as she hurriedly signed both contracts.
"There was nothing on me face, Tom." Davy said as he came out of the bathrooms.
"Oh, it must have been a shadow or something." Tom shrugged, then handed Davy the pen. "Sign here."
Davy did so, and Tom took both contracts and put them in his coat pocket.
"Well, congratulations, kiddos. You're on your way to being married. I can pull a few strings, get your blood test, marriage license, rings, and get you married off tonight. What do you say?" he asked.
"Oh no! That is not nearly enough time." Anna said.
"Well, you know, he's a star with a busy schedule. We have to get things over with as soon as possible." Tom said.
"Tom, will you cool it!" Davy snapped at the man, then turned towards Anna. "How much time will you need?"
"Well, I suppose I could be ready by tomorrow night." she said.
"Tomorrow night. You arrange everything, Tom." Davy said.
"Don't I always?" Tom asked.
"I'll see you then." Davy smiled and nodded towards Anna, then started to leave.
"See me then?" Anna asked.
Davy stopped, and turned to look at her.
"Yeah, at the wedding. Or was there something else you wanted to talk about?" he asked.
"Well, I just thought we might go out somewhere this evening, or tomorrow afternoon perhaps." she said, shyly looking down.
Davy opened his mouth to say something, but Tom took up this end of the conversation himself.
"Like I said, he's a busy man, the show, recordings, concerts, you name it, he has to do it. So we'll both be seeing you tomorrow night. I'll give you a call and tell you where to meet us. Good night!" Tom called as he pushed Davy out the door and shut it behind him.
Anna wiped at a few stray tears that started to run down her cheeks. She had so looked forward to them both going out somewhere on a date. She had thought that was why he had wanted to see her tonight when she closed.
Oh well. Now was no time to be feeling sorry for herself. She would be marrying a good man, and she was going to do her best to be a good wife to him. Surely in the end, it would all be worth it.
----
Chapter 5
The next evening came much too soon. Anna had packed all of her bags, including her hope chest which she would be taking with her.
Some people teased her about the hope chest, saying it was an old fashion idea, or calling it her dowery. She didn't care. She had many things in there that meant alot to her. Her great-grandmother's table cloth, the family Bible that had been passed down to her, recipe books and cards, plus little things she had bought for herself for when she would finally be able to manage her own home...her own
family.
She arrived at the small church, not in a wedding gown, but just a simple, white, mini-dress and a matching white hat.
The taxi man unloaded her luggage just inside the church, and she thanked and paid the man.
She looked to where the preacher, Davy, Tom and another woman were standing, and went to join them.
"Well, there she is, and looking even lovelier than ever." Tom smiled as he greeted her.
"Hello, Anna. You do look beautiful tonight." Davy smiled as he kissed her cheek.
She thought that was odd. Here they were going to be married, and he only kissed her on the cheek?
"Thank you." she smiled.
"Oh, Anna, this is the Reverand's wife, Mrs. Anderson. She's going to be your matron of honor." Tom said.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson." she said as she shook the older woman's hand.
"And you also, my dear." the woman smiled at her.
"Reverend." Anna reached her hand towards him.
"Nice to meet you." he smiled.
"Well, now that the pleasantries are over, let's get things underway." Tom said. "Davy you stand here. Anna...there ya go."
The Reverend went through the usual opening to a wedding ceremony, and Anna felt as if her knees would give way. She held onto Davy's hand tightly through the entire thing, and surprisingly, he didn't seem nervous at all.
"In the name of God, I, David Thomas Jones take you, Anna Marie Worthington to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow." he said as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
"In the name of God, I, Anna Marie Worthington take you, David Thomas Jones to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow." she said, then slipped the ring onto his finger.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." the Reverand smiled at the two as they kissed.
Only it wasn't a loving kiss like she had expected, but only a quick peck, and then he pulled away and started talking to Tom.
She looked at him strangely. Why was he doing this? Surely he wasn't shy.
She turned to Mrs. Anderson as the woman congratulated her, but her mind wasn't on what she was saying, but only the way her husband was acting.
----
Chapter Six
They arrived at Davy's apartment an hour later, but instead of him carrying her over the threshhold, he opened the door and held it for her as she walked in.
Her bags had already been brought up by some of the staff, and had been placed on the living room floor. And what a living room. Her entire apartment could have fit in this one room alone.
"Just make yourself at home." Davy said as he shut the door and took off his coat.
"This place puts my small apartment to shame." she smiled.
"Can I get you anything? A drink?" Davy offered.
"No thank you. But I would like to take my bags to our room." she said.
"Sure! Your room is right over there." he said, pointing to a door off the left side of the living room. Then he pointed to the right. "I sleep over here."
"Separate rooms? I don't understand." she said, looking at him strangely.
"Well, you didn't want us to sleep together did you?" he asked.
"We are married. I had expected it." she said.
"But it's only for a few months. I didn't think you'd actually...you know." he said, uncomfortably.
"What do you mean, only for a few months?" she asked.
"Didn't you know?" he asked, and she shook her head.
He pulled a note out of his slacks, the same note he had received in his dressing room, stating that she was willing to marry him, and handed it to her.
"Did you write this?" he asked.
She read, her hands starting to shake as her eyes went over each sentence.
"No." she whispered, turning tear filled eyes to him.
She then went to her purse, and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him.
"I don't suppose you wrote this either." she said.
He opened the note, and she saw the flash of anger as he read, then the sympathy as he looked at her.
"I didn't write this." he said.
"Oh my God, what have I done?" she cried as she sat on the couch. "Why?"
"They wanted me to marry, for publicity only. Those contracts we signed, what did Tom tell you they were?" he asked.
"He..he said that it was just a contract to keep the wives out of show business." she cried.
"That filthy...." he crumpled the note in his hand, and threw it into the fire place. "Anna, that was a legal document stating that we stay married for six months, and then after six months, if one of us chooses to divorce, the other one must concede."
"Divorce?" she gasped. "I thought you loved me. That's why I married you, because I thought you loved me. But it's money. That's all it comes down to, isn't it? Just filthy money."
"Anna, please, I didn't know..." he reached out to touch her, but she pulled away.
"Don't touch me! You have no right." she shouted.
"No right?" he asked.
"I made vows before God, and I will live up to them. I'll cook for you, clean for you, and do everything else a wife is supposed to do...except sleep with you. I will not allow you to shame me in that way." she said.
"I had no intention...." he started, but didn't get the chance to finish.
"When six months are up, I will give you your divorce. Until then, I will fulfill my agreement as a wife...except sleep with you." she said, and with that she grabbed a suit case and marched into her room, slamming the door behind her.
If the circumstances were different, she would have taken time to enjoy the spacious bedroom, with the plush furnishings and adjoining bathroom off to the side.
But for right now, the warm soft bed would have to serve as a refuge for a broken heart.
She didn't know how long she laid there and cried, but she heard the front door slam. Where he was going, she didn't care. They were nothing to each other now. Just two people who had been tricked into a marriage, and must now spend the next six months with each other.
----
Chapter 7
Anna awoke early the next morning, at first not sure of her surroundings. Tears same to her eyes as everything came back to her, like a knife to the heart.
"I was so foolish." she shook her head as she got up off of her bed.
She looked in the mirror. As she had guessed, she looked horrible. Her make-up smeared from crying, her hair and clothes messed up from sleep.
She put her suit case on her bed, and opened it, looking for something fresh to wear.
She pulled out the nice lingerie that she had been collecting for when she married. So much good it was going to do her now.
She laid them aside, then pulled out a pair of jeans and a white, button down top. Taking a quick shower, she threw her clothes on and reapplied her make-up, then went out to the kitchen to start breakfast.
He wasn't up yet. She had thought for sure he was up by seven, since he stopped by her diner at seven-thirty every morning.
Just as she was thinking this, the front door opened and he came walking in, wearing the same clothes he had last night at the wedding.
"Where have you been?" she asked.
"Out!" was his simple answer.
She took that as a gentle hint that she wasn't to be prying into his affairs, and she guessed she really had no right to.
"I'll get you some breakfast while you shower." she said.
"Don't bother. We can order something." he said.
"No, Mr. Jones, I plan to earn my keep." she stubbornly replied.
"I thought I told you to call me 'Davy.'" he said.
"That was before, Mr. Jones." she said. "Now go ahead and shower. Breakfast will be done by the time you're out."
He sighed in defeat, and went to his room. She heard the shower running as she put the eggs to frying.
How were they going to last for six months? She was still angry at him, even though it wasn't really his fault. He had thought she'd known.
But still, marriage wasn't something to be taken lightly, and here he is, using it as a money making scheme.
She set their plates at the table as he was coming out.
"Smells good." he said.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." she said as she headed back towards the kitchen.
"You're welcome, Mrs. Jones." he replied.
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, then quieted down. "My name is Anna."
"Nice to meet you, Anna. My name is Davy." he sarcastically replied.
"That does it!" she angrily threw her hands in the air. "There is no way you and I are going to be able to survive six months with each other."
"There's nothing we can do about it." he said. "Where do you think I was all night?"
"Out." she smugly replied.
"That's right, I was out. Out finding Tom and some of the other higher ups from the studio. I told them what he did to you, but they said that they had no proof, how do I know you weren't just lying so that I wouldn't be able to divorce you, and that the contract was as legal as the Constitution itself." he said.
"So they're not going to do anything about it?" she asked.
"Not one blasted thing." he said as he sat down. "They don't care. Just as long as this all works out in their favor, they don't care. I'm just sorry it was you that had to get mixed up in any of it."
"Excuse me." she said.
Feeling her eyes watering again, she hurried towards her room.
"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked, but didn't look as if he expected a positive answer.
"No, I'm not hungry." she called back as she slammed the door to her room.
----
Chapter 8
"Hey, Davy! How's the little bride?" Micky teased as Davy walked onto the set.
"I'm not in the mood for it now, Dolenz!" Davy snapped as he walked by Micky. "What scene did they finally decide on shooting today?"
"That part where we're at the dinner table, and that...what's his name...tries to kill us with the...what did they call them, Pete?" Mike asked.
"Golden Grecian Goblets Guarantee Graves." Peter proudly announced. "Didn't think I'd remember, huh?"
"That's good, Pete. Now try, 'Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers.'" Micky said, quoting his next line in the scene.
"Where's Tom? I'd like to take one of those goblets, and..." Davy started, but was interrupted.
"Whoa, what put the burr under your saddle?" Mike asked.
"There he goes with those sayings again." Micky rolled his eyes.
Davy told them about Anna, and how Tom had tricked her. Then how the execs won't do a thing about it.
"We have to stay married for the next six months." Davy said.
"Well, to make it easier, why not get her a separate place to live? No one has to know about it." Peter said.
"No, man! She's hung up on the vows thing. Says she made her vows before God, and she plans to live up to them." Davy said.
"Does that include 'Till death do us part'?" Micky joked.
"The way things have been going so far, one of us will probably end up killing the other before six months is up." Davy said.
----
Anna went from room to room, gathering dirty laundry to take downstairs to the wash room.
He had told her he had a maid who came in and took care of these things. What was she supposed to do? Sit around and live off of him like a leech? Never! If he was going to take care of her for these six months, she was going to do her share.
She took the laundry downstairs, and started separating whites and coloreds, when a couple of woman came over to her.
"You're Mrs. Jones, aren't you?" the shorter, plump woman asked.
"Yes, I am." Anna answered, trying to be as gracious as possible, but that name made her feel anything but gracious.
"Oh, we thought you might be. Word had spread that Mr. Jones had married and brought his new bride home with him last night." the taller, scare-crow like woman smiled.
"Do you live in these apartments also?" Anna asked.
"Oh goodness no." the shorter one smiled. "We work for some of the women here. Personal maids."
"Oh I see." Anna nodded as she continued tossing clothes in the washer.
"Why are you doing this instead of your maid, Mrs. Jones?" the tall woman asked.
"There's nothing wrong with my back or arms. I can take care of it myself." she answered, not unkindly, but firmly.
"She obviously hasn't been spoiled by riches yet, but it will soon come." the short one laughed.
Anna slammed the washer shut, and went back up the stairs.
Normally she would have waited down there for the clothes to finish, but she'd rather not sit there and listen to these old hens peck at one another. Although she was sure that right now she was the main topic of conversation.
----
Anna had the laundry folded and put away, and was now working on dinner when her "husband" came through the door.
"Honey, I'm home!" he playfully called out.
She appeared from the kitchen with hands on hips. "Is this some kind of a joke to you?" she snapped.
"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood a little." he said, holding his hands up in defense.
"You're right. I'm sorry." she sighed, and gave a slight smile. "I guess if we're stuck together for six months, we should make the effort, huh?"
"It would be nice." he smiled back.
"I have dinner almost ready." she said, then went back into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she came out with the pot of stew, and placed it on the table.
"I noticed my hamper was empty. Thanks." he said as he came out of his room.
"It wasn't a problem." she said.
"You really don't have to do that, you know. Like I said, a maid could come..." he started, but she didn't allow him to finish.
"We've been through this already, Mr. Jones..."
"Davy!" he interrupted.
"...Mr. Jones, that I won't just sit around and be a parasite." she said.
He pulled the chair out for her to sit, then sat directly across from her.
"But it's not like that at all. After what we've done to you, I don't expect you to work here like a...a servant or something." he said.
"It's just as much my fault as it is yours. I shouldn't have just jumped into a marriage. I knew better, but I was just so star struck that someone wanted to marry me." she said. "I guess I should have given it a few days to wear off."
"And I should have made sure you knew about all this before marrying you. I'm sorry." he said.
She smiled at him, and reached for the ladel.
"Now that we're through blaming ourselves, let's eat." she said.
They filled their plates, and just as Davy was about to dig in, she cleared her throat. He looked at her, and she had her hands folded and was waiting for him to do the same.
He put down his fork, and folded his hands as well, then looked at her.
"You don't expect me to say the prayer, do you?" he asked.
"No, God'll recognize my voice. He's heard it before." she smiled.
"Touche!" he rolled his eyes, then closed them.
"Heavenly Father, thank you for this meal that you have put before us. Please bless the food and the people who eat it. In the name of Jesus, Amen!" she said.
"Do you do that for everything you cook at the diner?" he asked.
"Not as often as I should, I'm afraid." she said.
After the dinner was over, he sat back and smiled at her.
"I don't know if it was the prayer or your cooking, but that's the best stew I've ever eaten." he said.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." she said.
"Why do you insist on not calling me by my name?" he asked.
"I thought that was your name." she smiled.
"You're trying to be difficult." he said.
"Perhaps." she said as she started clearing the dishes from the table.
He grabbed her hand, and she looked at him. He was smiling at her, and his eyes had such a soft look to them, it made her heart skip a few beats.
"I know this hasn't been easy, but thank you for taking things as well as you have. Since I had to be married to someone, even for such a short time, I'm glad it was you." he said, then kissed her hand.
She gave him a polite nod as she pulled her hand away.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." she smiled, then gathered the dishes and disappeared into the kitchen.
----
Chapter Nine
"No! There is no way I can allow myself to fall in love with him." Anna angrily thought as she scrubbed at the dishes.
OK, so she admitted she had been attracted to him once before. Before all this mess. She had thought she was in love with him before, but it was only the idea of being married that she was in love with. An idea that had rushed her into a marriage with a man who didn't love her, and who would be seeking divorce in just six months.
But at dinner he had been so understanding towards her. He was even willing to take the blame for what had happened to her. When she had looked into his eyes, that's when she knew...she was starting to fall in love with him.
No! She couldn't...she wouldn't allow it to happen. Someone would only end up hurt in the end, and it would most likely be her.
Davy walked into the kitchen in the middle of all her thoughts.
"You're going to wear a hole in that pot if you keep scrubbing it like that." he smiled.
She hadn't noticed that she had been working on the same pot for the last ten minutes, and now she was scrubbing furiously at it.
"I guess my mind was elsewhere." she gave an embarrassed smile.
"The way you were attacking that pot, I can only guess where. I think I'll talk to you from a safe distance." he said as he stood at the other side of the kitchen. "What were your plans tomorrow?"
"I was going to do some shopping. You don't keep your kitchen well stocked." she said.
"I usually order, or eat out. It's been a long time since I've had a home cooked meal. I'm not a very good cook myself." he shrugged.
"Do you mind that I cook for you, or do you prefer going out?" she asked.
"I don't mind. It's a nice change. But if you don't mind, I'd like to take you out sometime." he said.
"Whatever for?" she asked.
"Just because I'd like to. Do I need a reason?" he asked.
"I suppose not." she said.
He walked over next to her, and leaned against the counter.
"I thought we were starting to get along pretty good. What's wrong?" he asked.
"Not a thing." she smiled at him, not wanting him to know what she had been thinking before.
"Uh huh." he nodded, not totally convinced. "Well, the real reason I came in here is because I wanted to know if you'd come to the studio with me tomorrow. There are going to be some reporters and photographers there who want to get the story. What?" he asked when he saw the angered look appearing on her face.
"'You're such a good cook, Anna!' 'If I had to marry someone even for a short time, I'm glad it was you, Anna!' 'I would like to take you out sometime, Anna!' So that was it. Just buttering me up, so I'd agree to come to the studio with you tomorrow." she spouted off angrily.
"No, that's wasn't it at all." he said quickly.
"Do you always play these kinds of games with people, Mr. Jones? Is there a heart inside that chest of yours?" she yelled.
"Would you just listen..." he started as he took a step towards her, but she grabbed a knife out of the sink and stepped back, keeping the knife pointed at him.
"Perhaps we should find out if you have a heart!" she cried.
"Anna, would you let me explain?" he pleaded.
She threw the knife down, and with an angry cry, ran to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
----
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