Read Online The Black Chapel by Marilyn Cruise - Free Book Online

late fees, Yvonne says.
    “I understand.” I hang up the phone and join Michael and Paul.
    We go over specifics like what will happen in the event that Michael or I die before the contract has been fulfilled, and that one of us cannot sue the other etc. After two grueling hours, I can’t take it anymore. I excuse myself and head to the lady’s room. When I return, Paul has left and Michael is on his cell phone, clearly upset about something.
    Michael glances at me when I enter. “I’m going to have to call you back.” He hangs up.
    “Is everything all right?” I ask.
    “Yes,” he says, but it clearly isn’t. “I think we’re done here. Ready to meet my mother?”
    I take a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
    He looks at me, somewhat amused. “Sir?”
    “I mean, honey.” I smile.
    “That’s better.” He smiles, too, his dimples etched into his perfect face and I sigh internally. This deal definitely has its benefits.
     
    Michael’s mother, Michael explains, is at Providence Portland Medical Center. She’s just there for a few days since the doctors wanted to do some extensive tests on her. He informs me on the way over that her cancer had started as lung cancer but that now it has spread throughout her body. He seems unusually callous, almost business-like when he speaks about it, and I wonder if this man has any tender feelings for his mother at all.
    “My mother is a very straight-forward woman. She can also smell a phony a mile away. And if you waiver about anything for even a millisecond, she’ll know it’s a set-up,” Michael says.
    “No pressure there,” I say, my pulse rising exponentially.
    Michael parks in the parking garage and he turns to me after turning off the engine. “You will do fine. If you find yourself in a pickle, just excuse yourself and say you need to use the restroom. Or kiss me. I’ll take the clue.”
    I nod and swallow. I envision Michael’s mom as a mind-reader and a control freak who wants to meddle in her son’s life. My hands are starting to feel clammy all of a sudden, and now I wonder what the hell I’m actually doing here. This will never work . I’m not a good liar.
    Michael takes my hand and squeezes it. “You will do great, dear.”
    I smile at him. “ Dear sounds so old. Can’t we just call each other honey, instead?”
    “No, that sounds even older. How about babe?” He smiles.
    I give him a look. “In front of your mother?”
    “Sure, why not?” he asks.
    “Fine. She’s your mother. Babe it is.”
    The hospital walls are pasty white and the smell of hand-sanitizer and linen hits my nostrils when I enter. When we arrive at his mother’s room on the sixth floor, the curtains are drawn. It’s dim. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata is streaming from a CD player.
    Michael walks up to his mother, who has a leopard print eye mask covering her eyes. He shakes her gently and she removes the mask.
    A big smile brightens her tired face when she sees it’s him. “Michael.” Her voice is raspy, and I get the feeling this woman has been a chain smoker her whole life. “Please get me out of this place,” she complains. Her hair is perfectly styled, shoulder-length wavy and silver.
    Are there hospital stylists? I wonder.
    “Just a few more tests and you can go home.” Michael hugs her. “Mother, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” He looks at me, his eyes warm and welcoming, and I almost believe he loves me. “This is Scarlett, my soon-to-be fiancé. Scarlett, I’d like you to meet my mother, Diane.”
    My heart is pounding against my ribs. I hope she’ll buy our sham, but then I feel a pang of guilt. I’m a liar! Smiling, I approach her. “Hi Mrs. Manning, pleased to meet you.” I hold my hand out, but she doesn’t take it.
    Mrs. Manning does not seem pleased at all. She looks bewildered and looks back at Michael. “A new fiancé?” Her eyes narrow considerably, and I can tell she’s thinking Michael’s trying to fool her. “Pleased to