Wednesday, 28 March 2012



“Oh, but...what about the wedding?” Ruthie gasped.

“Who's wedding?”

“Why...yours and Cara's, of course. You did read the card, didn't you?”

“Yes, but...” Puzzled by her query, Devin picked up the card again and turned it over in case he’d missed some important piece of information. The search proved futile.

“Cara will be thirty-five next week.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, then you know what that means, don’t you?”

He was silent.

“Do you or don't you intend to honor that contract, young man.”

A grin tugged at his lips. Although Ruthie's voice held a hint of amusement, he sensed her taking this line of offense immensely serious.

Knowing in advance how Ruthie Cavarlho operated, he proceeded with caution. “Ruthie, it’s not really a contract.”

“It’s in black and white.”

“Yes, but…it’s bogus. There was no serious intention of marriage by either of us, no meeting of the minds. No-”

“Devin, dear, don’t talk to me in legal mumbo jumbo. I don’t understand a word of it.”

“It was a joke. It’s not legal.”

“Not legal,” Ruthie grunted.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Devin picked up the ball point pen he'd strangled earlier and started tapping in his desk to fill in the void.

“Would Cara know this?” Ruthie finally asked.

“Well, I-”

“I'll bet she doesn't,” she proclaimed, an undertone of hope resonating in her words. He could almost hear the wheels in her head spinning triumphantly when she declared, “What she doesn't know won't hurt her.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Ruthie, what are you up to?”

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