Page Ch. 08

Page joins us in the office and asks, "They're going to add air handling after, right?"

"Yes, but again this was a retrofit and is only meant to hold off attackers until help can arrive."

It's all very good news and I want to feel upbeat about it, but I've been stewing the whole day about how we came to be married. It is so incomplete or maybe anticlimactic that it isn't making me accept the outcome.

Before the two of them start to leave, I ask, "Do you think it'd be safe for Page and I to go out?"

"Why?" Mom asks.

"I want to take care of something that's been bugging me."

"What's that?" Page asks, as she approaches me from the entry.

"We don't have rings and that's going to make the whole marriage story look odd especially at Gary's New Year's Engagement tomorrow."

"We can get you some rings," Mom offers.

"I don't want just any rings, this isn't some act we're putting on for people."

"Well, it is in a way, you two aren't 'married'," she said giving air quotes.

"You said -" I start.

"No, you heard what you wanted. I did call her your wife, and I said we were getting the papers together. We can get rings -"

"Mom, he's right, we need rings that we've picked out."

"Okay, okay. Hmm - well, maybe we can have them brought here. Do some online searching and we'll figure out how to have a selection brought in for you to choose."

"What about the marriage?" I ask. "Can't we have a real -"

"We're going to have the license and certificate here in a day or so," Mom offers.

Realizing my feelings, Page interjects, "I don't know who could perform it, sweetie."

"It just seems sketchy. We're going to be married because we are going to have fake documents?"

Page plants a huge kiss on me. I see Mom turn away and go back toward the kitchen. It must be hard for her to understand our relationship, but I love Page so much, I can't resist. The noise of banging of pans informs us she's frustratedly starting something for dinner and I realize we haven't eaten since breakfast.

When we break the kiss, Page quietly assures me, "We'll figure something out. I'm going to help Mom with dinner and try to smooth things over. You get on your laptop and look for rings you like; I'm a six," she says wiggling her left ring finger at me as she heads back toward the kitchen.

I watch her disappear through the doorway and the vision of her lingers with me. Her figure always excites me and even when she's merely gesturing, she exudes sexual goddess. Her hands are smaller than mine but imperceptibly larger than might be expected for a woman her size. She'd handled the Glock with ease. Thoughts whir in my head as I settle into the task.

What kind of ring should I get her? She's left handed; will she wear it on her left hand? Is that why she wiggled her left ring finger? If I get something big will it interfere with her ability to handle a gun? I'm mostly ambidextrous; although I shoot right handed, I eat and write lefty. Her ring can't be too dainty if she's going to be active. She might be on assignment at any time, but maybe she won't ware it when she's being a spy or whatever she is.

I sit somberly for several moments and finally decide to open my laptop. None of this is going the way I'd imagined it would, although I'm not sure what I'd imagined would happen. I certainly didn't think I'd be married before the end of the year. I understand how we've arrived at this point and I'm not unhappy about the outcome. Actually, Mom and Reba had solved a problem that I hadn't even begun to mentally engage. Their solution gives us legitimacy and I doubt anything I'd have come up with would have been nearly as clean, but it leaves me wanting.

Starting up the virtual machine, I find an e-mail from Gary and a handful of others, including an acceptance letter from one of the universities to which I'd applied. It seems crazy fast, so I wonder if it is genuine and make a note to ask Mom and Page what they think. There's some cryptic looking e-mail from Page, or at least I think it is from her. "I'm going to have to get better at all of this stuff," I mumble. As I read Gary's e-mail, I remember his request that I think about the special election. I'd told him we'd discuss it, but all of these other activities are precluding even thinking about it much less addressing that possibility. It's another item I want to get their opinion about before proceeding.

Then I find nearly a hundred e-mails. Many are from my staff saying: they can't reach my phone, have I gotten their e-mail, why haven't I responded, will I be available for comment on the shooting, I need to comment on the special election, am I running because they want to help, and why haven't I e-mailed back yet. I take a deep breath and reply to all of them with a single e-mail saying: I have released a statement, will consider making a public statement about the shooting and consider doing similarly for the special election. Hitting send, I wonder how many calls they are really fielding about this and send a short note to Miriam, asking her that directly. It feels way too soon to start down this path, but I should at least know if there's strong support before answering questions about it.

Finally, I set about my original purpose of looking for rings. The thing that is bugging me is I don't want to give her some big chain brand engagement ring that anyone can get. I want something unique and special that'll say what I feel for her. I spend a long time looking for small local shops and delve through countless websites looking for something I think she might like. I wish I could visit the store and see these in person, but understand why we shouldn't. By the end of my search, I think I've narrowed my list to just two diamond rings that might work. As I'm about to close the rest of the tabs, I find myself waffling and leave a few open so Page has more of a choice. Then I begin a search for simple matching wedding bands that won't clash with either of the engagement rings I think are right. After a while Page comes into the office to check on me.

"Having any luck?"

"Yeah, maybe. I want your ring to be special, so I've got several browser tabs open here from local stores. Want to look?"

"Of course," she says and sits on my lap at the desk.

She navigates through each of the tabs and then sees the wedding bands. She wiggles her bottom against me, which I take as approval. Then she goes back to the first diamond I'd picked. It is my favorite and I hope she likes it. She clicks on my second choice again and then back.

"I can keep looking," I say.

"No, I like both of these. They are beautiful, I'm just trying to decide which I like more. Which one did you like most?"

"I don't want to influence your decision," I tell her.

"Don't be silly, that's the whole point."

"Okay, the first one, the second one is there because I thought you'd like it."

"Oh, I see. Well, I like the one you picked for me," she says with delight.

Twisting around she repositions herself straddling me and we kiss again. Somehow, it feels like the most normal thing we've done in a while and my arms wrap around her back to hug her tight. Mom calls from the kitchen to say dinner is ready, so Page stands up and takes my hand to lead the way.

Dinner is nice, Mom made that vegetarian dish she taught me to make for Page. I tell her she's done a better job at it and while I don't expect to be as good as her, I want to be able to do the same for my love someday. Mom and Page both laugh about it and the earlier tension from when we'd kissed in front of her seems to have diminished. She tells me I'm probably being impatient with my sauce and not letting it set long enough for the flavors to mix thoroughly.

---

A couple hours after dinner, we are all starting to relax in the office. The love seat and an easy chair have been moved in here for now and the family room will have all new furniture before they're done. Page and I are sitting together, and Mom is just sitting down in the recliner. She's been busy calling around and getting this set up so we could talk. I turn from watching the array of portable scrambling devices randomly blink to see that Mom looks tired and distracted. I nudge Page and nod my head towards Mom.

Page asks her, "What's bugging you Mom?"

"Nothing, just my babies are married and it's to each other."

It isn't disapproval, it's kind of a melancholy statement and Page's response is perfect, "I don't think we knew and perhaps circumstances influenced it happening, but I wouldn't change a thing. I love Ryan, Mom."

I ignore the fact that Mom's reversed her stance on us being married now, and say, "I love Page with all my heart." It's got to be tough on her and I don't want to reopen the trauma she seems to be slowly coming to terms with.

"Yes, I know, but it is going to take me some time to process all of this. I'm good at making quick decisions, but resolving the aftermath sometimes weighs on me. I'm the one that jumped the gun and co-opted the 'wife' line, from the hyped news stories so it would stick. On that I'm as much to blame as either of you. I was looking at the mission and not the people."

"I don't want it undone." Page says emphatically.

"Me either," I add.

"Oh, I'm not suggesting that. I'm just worrying about what Ryan told me earlier. You two want children?"

I suddenly remember blurting all of that out when defending Page and explaining that she wanted a life. It seems Page isn't worried about her knowing and tells her, "Eventually, yes. I'm not ready right now and I have the -"

"Yes, Ryan told me you've got the implant. Those things aren't one hundred percent effective or safe and there may be additional risks if you get pregnant."

"Compared to what I'm doing?"

"For the child, yes but all things are relative," Mom states flatly.

"Yes, we are," Page says and giggles.

"This isn't a joking matter Page."

"I know, I was trying to lighten the mood. We'll have amniocentesis done," she assures her.

There is silence while everyone considers how that might change things. We all know that it could be serious if there are any bad recessive genes. The possibility of children seems so far away at the moment, that I can't focus on it. There are a lot of other items to take care of on our list before tomorrow's party.

I finally break the somber mood, "Well, I hate to change the subject, but Page and I do need to attend Gary's engagement party tomorrow. We're going to need those rings before then, there'll probably be quite a few people there."

"I spoke with Reba earlier. She's going to drop by in the morning with a selection and your documents."

"Did Page show you the one she wants?"

"Yes, Reba is quite resourceful, as you may find. She's gotten that one and several custom ones that are similar from a jeweler she knows."

"Okay, sounds settled. I've been considering the press statement I released. It gives a lot of credit to Agent Jonson, but he told me the manager at the store called the police. I'm going to go over there tomorrow and thank him personally," I say.

"I'm going too," Page says at once. "There should be time after Reba's done."

"I don't know if that's safe, but I support it," Mom tells us.

"There's also the matter of several e-mails I've gotten from my staff. They are wanting me to do a press appearance."

"I think we should hold off on that; you're essentially out of office and interest will start declining," Mom says.

"They're asking because there are a lot of inquiries as to whether I may run for the Lieutenant Governor," I tell them. "I've e-mailed my assistant, Miriam, to see what the level of interest really is."

"Oh, I see," Mom sighs.

"There could be some risk with that kind of publicity," Page says.

"I've no hesitations on putting myself at risk and Gary seems to think I've got a chance. But if there's any risk exposing you or us, I won't even consider it."

Mom replies, "As I've told you, Page has been going by her alias, Page Rubin, for some time now. There are no records of any Page Levik except for the documents Reba is bringing tomorrow."

"All physical and electronic documents?" I ask incredulously.

"Well, first, there weren't as many physical documents as you might imagine, but those have been gathered and destroyed," Mom says with certainty. "The electronic ones were actually easier to take care of due to your aunt's and wife's skill. The circle of people that know her by that name is quite small."

"I don't want you being a hero, Ryan," Page says.

"Look, being the Lieutenant Governor is probably less dangerous than being a congressman," I say.

I can see her wheels spinning and Mom interjects what I'm thinking, "It's certainly safer than what you do, dear."

"I know," Page replies. "I knew it the moment I said it. We've got to roll these guys up soon."

"Reba thinks the shooting was accidental or perhaps unauthorized," Mom says.

"Are they getting chatter? I haven't finished working on my project; I need those new devices. They told me it'd be ready before the new year. I need them to -"

"Let's table that last bit," Mom says cutting her off. "I know I started us down that path, but there are limits."

"He needs to know," Page says emphatically. "All of this could be moot if I get it working."

"In broad terms, I agree with you. Generalities will have to do for now. He's not cleared. They like what they're finding. All of his contacts are clear. They really like Gary and Mike but there are procedures and processes. They must be followed."

"Despite being extremely interested in whatever that last bit was about, I want to move on to how much we tell Gary," I say.

"That is more difficult," Mom says. After some thought, she continues, "I'm afraid you're going to have to let Page play it by ear. Let her get the lay of the land as it were."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't know she's my sister, he was in China nearly the whole time she was a page."

"What'd be the worst case if he does know?" Page asks. "You think he'd bail or go public?"

"I don't think so, he's probably the closest friend I have. I know his stories and he knew mine. He helped me reach out to the woman they smeared during the campaign."

"This is a little different," Page says.

"It was a racial smear that'd only work in the south," Mom tells her. "Cousins can marry here just fine."

"The woman lost her job because of all the publicity and then her husband sued for divorce," I add.

"The news coverage was very uneven," Mom says. "An African-American woman has a single infidelity several years ago. They focused on the inter-racial aspect, while omitting the fact that the husband had been cheating on her with his secretary the whole time."

"I wasn't dating anyone, and we weren't intoxicated," I tell Page as I watch her jealousy rising.

"How many drinks did you have?"

"Only a few. I might not have gone to her hotel if I'd known she was married, but I can't say for sure. She was a nice lady and the only one to ever ask me to their hotel room. I'm sorry, I know you're uncomfortable talking about this."

"Yeah, I don't like it," she punches me gently, "but can't I be a little jealous?"

"I guess, but there's literally no competition."

"Alright you two, it's getting late and it appears we've got a busy day tomorrow, so I'm going to bed," Mom says.

I'd wanted to talk about the law school accepting me, but decide to let it wait until another time. Page and I head off to our room as Mom goes the guest room. It seems like there's still some tension where our sex lives are concerned.

---

New Year's Eve morning, Page and I wake early and hear Mom showering. We seem to be forgoing sex, probably because she's preoccupied with our upcoming agenda. Page is super excited about this morning's private ring showing, so she's up and dragging me to the shower before the steam from Mom's has cleared.

Under the water, we cannot resist caressing one another as we wash. With Mom in the next room, it feels extra naughty and her touch has my cock raging hard. Holding her finger to her lips, Page slips me inside for a quick and mostly quiet romp. It takes the edge off and leaves us mostly satisfied, if still wanting more.

We're dressed and in the kitchen before Mom this morning. I'm not sure what's keeping her, but we go ahead and make some eggs over easy and toast. I'm brewing some coffees when Mom walks in to join us.

Sitting at the end of the bar, she comments, "You should make some for Reba, she's going to be here any moment."

"Okay," I say.

"Having Reba over is artful," Page reflects aloud and winks at me.

I nod back at her realizing we shouldn't discuss her bringing the rings over so we aren't seen shopping for them after our 'marriage'.

"I have my moments," Mom says looking at the two of us working in the kitchen.

I finish with the last plate when the doorbell rings. Page rushes to the door and escorts Reba back to the kitchen. Reba places her briefcase by the built-in hutch and moves into the eating area.

"What a nice surprise," she says sitting next to her sister. "Rama told you I was coming I see," she says looking at the plate in front of her.

"Yeah, Page has been on pins and needles since she woke up," I tease her back and join the three of them at the bar. "We're going to let her eat first right, Page?"

"Oh, fine. I can wait, I guess," she sighs dramatically.

As I join them at the bar, I notice that both Mom and Reba are wearing identical outfits. Additionally, without the blond wig, I see their hair matches as well. They see my eyes darting back and forth between them and smile.

Reba speaks first, "We may have to do some shuffling."

I find myself wondering, Have they ever swapped on us secretly?

Mom laughs, winks at me, points toward the office and says, "We'll hash all the details out after eating."

We carry on casual conversation as we eat, but leave off any details that might give away our subterfuge. We finish eating just as the doorbell rings. Mom and Reba go to answer it and I hear the workman talking with them. It's early, but I expect they want to get the renovations moving as fast as they can.

Page and I clear away the dishes while they are gone, but I nudge Page and nod for her to go on and have a look. "I'll finish up, you go check on them," I tell her as I tie up the nearly full garbage bag. After she's gone, I take it outside through the side door. I replace the bag in the can and start washing dishes and putting things away. While I'm still cleaning up, I see Reba collect her briefcase and go back toward the office. I feel a little worry about Page liking the ring I picked, but focus on getting the kitchen as clean as Mom would.

Finally finished, I join them in the office, where I find them all hovering over an array of glittering diamond rings. The one I'd picked is set aside and there are several that look strikingly similar. I'm a little taken aback at first, because I'd thought I had picked something unique.

Page looks up at me and instantly sees my confusion, "These are all by the same designer. Reba happened to know him and got some that are similar, to see if you or I liked something that wasn't on the website."

"Oh, okay," I say. "I guess it was foolish to think a ring on a website was unique."

"This is the one you liked," Reba tells me.

"I gathered that. What makes these other ones special or different?"

We went over the four C's of diamonds and material in the mounts and enough information to make me feel completely out of my depth. At the end of all of it, I find myself leaning towards a diamond which is the same oval cut shape, but has a much more intricate platinum band with several baguettes surrounding the center stone.