The Registry (5 page)
A
fter several moments of dirty looks from her parents, Mia and Grant were set up in the dining room. Her mother had set out the fine china and dimmed the lights for a more intimate atmosphere.
Grant pulled out Mia’s chair as she sat down. He gave an awkward smile and a shallow laugh. Mia wondered if he felt as strange as she did.
Before one of them could break the silence, Andrew entered the room. Mia had never seen him look so nice. Sophisticated, even. His dark hair was slicked back away from his eyes, and he was dressed in all black. Mia found herself staring at him, while he did not attempt to make eye contact with her. Grant coughed.
“So, tell me about yourself,” Mia said before Grant had the opportunity to speak.
Grant looked down and shook his head. He looked up with a pressed smile. “It is inappropriate for you to ask me questions.” His voice was filled with annoyance. “It is inappropriate for you to speak at all without my addressing you first, but I suppose you already know that. Just like you know you’re not supposed to use my first name unless I give you permission.”
“Well, maybe I’m not a fan of the rules.” Mia raised an eyebrow.
“I’d like some wine please, and once I get it, I would like you to leave the room,” Grant said to Andrew. “We deserve our privacy.”
Andrew nodded with a blank look and left.
“I am a fan of the rules.” Grant stared down at Mia. “So why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
“I just turned eighteen. I hate dressing up. I especially hate this dress. I am a terrible cook and I find housework boring.” Mia set her elbow on the table and cradled her head in her hand.
“Well, happy belated birthday.”
Grant didn’t seem thrown by Mia’s antics, so she decided to keep going. “I also think you are too old for me.”
Grant sat in silence for a moment, looking into Mia’s eyes, debating what to say next. “You’re fun. A spoiled brat, but a fun one.”
Mia went on, desperate to make sure this engagement didn’t happen and to end this night as soon as possible. “I don’t think you are good-looking enough for me either. I am much prettier than you are.”
“Well, now, let me answer your question.” Grant rose from his chair and walked toward Mia. With each word he spoke, his voice grew louder. “I was raised in an orphanage and worked odd jobs till service, not unlike that waiter you’ve been staring at, I’m guessing. I made a name for myself during my tenure in the marines, and after I got out I developed some important machinery for the men. I made a hefty profit from my inventions and now I’d like to find a wife. I built a life on my own, I am a friend of this country, and I’ve earned respect.”
Mia looked down, hoping he wouldn’t get any closer. But he reached toward her and grabbed her chin in his hand, tilting her head upward. She wanted to call out for her mother—he was touching her and that was against the rules. She had a feeling this wasn’t the type of touch her mother had warned her against. Mia’s voice caught in her throat. She seemed unable to make a sound. His eyes glittered coldly.
“As for your rude comments, we both know they are lies. I am aware of my features and I am also aware I am much younger than the average groom. I am sure you are sensitive to these facts, too. I am driven, smart, resourceful, and a bit of a perfectionist. But notice nowhere in there did I say I am
nice
. So I recommend you watch your mouth.”
With that word the door swung open, and Andrew entered with the wine.
Grant dropped his hand from Mia’s face and returned to his chair. Mia glanced up at Andrew. For a moment he looked angry, like he was readying to pounce on Grant, but then his gaze shifted and the blank expression returned. He set down the bottle and walked out of the room.
Mia rubbed her jaw where Grant’s hand had been.
“Now then, let’s start over, shall we?” Grant poured himself a glass while Mia nodded her head. “My name is Mr. Marsden, but you may call me Grant if you like.”
Respect and honor your elders who have served their time. They are great men who fought bravely. Someday you will be in their position.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
A
ndrew struggled against a wave of anger that took him completely by surprise. He focused on his breathing to calm himself down and told himself his fury was because the man was using unfair force against someone smaller and defenseless. It had nothing to do with this girl in particular or the fact that he’d seen her spark fade when Mr. Marsden grabbed her. For a moment he considered telling Mr. Morrissey, but he doubted his employer would do anything.
Andrew had to remind himself he owed Mr. Marsden a large amount of respect. He had served his time in the military, while Andrew was still unserved. But Mia looked so scared, like pure terror was pulsing through her veins. He told himself that she was obviously breaking the rules when she told the man about her flaws and spoke first. He had never known she was so rebellious. Actually, he didn’t know anything about her.
He breathed deeply again, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t help her and she didn’t need his help. This was what girls went through; all he could do was remember when it was his turn to find a mate to treat her fairly.
He smiled at the thought of how beautiful she looked, almost statuesque. But something seemed off about her. He thought she had looked better when he ran into her the other day, more natural.
He ran his hands through his mop of hair. He was sure his outfit made him look just as awkward as Mia. The two of them would make quite the pair tonight. His smile dropped. They would never be a pair and he’d never want that anyway.
Andrew felt his rage slip away and congratulated himself on keeping his cool in the dining room. He remembered his place in the world and he always did a good job of maintaining his common sense. Still, he couldn’t wait to enter service, and then he would prove himself worthy to stand up to men like Mr. Marsden and talk with force to someone like Mr. Morrissey. Of course, he hoped his after-service position wouldn’t entail waiting tables.
He imagined all the possibilities that awaited him. Maybe he could be a professional pilot, if he made air force of course. Or take what he learned from Mr. Morrissey and start his own farm; he already knew how to operate the equipment. There was always the idea of going into business too; maybe Andrew would surprise himself on the placement exams and end up being a whiz in financial activities. The possibilities were endless.
Again he scolded himself for fantasizing. His future didn’t belong to him yet. He needed to spend more time thinking about serving his great country and less time worrying about himself. Besides, right now all he should worry about was Mr. Marsden’s next course. He wouldn’t let any negative treatment of Mia affect him. She was not and would never be his concern.
The marriage ceremony is the joining of two individuals as one, and it is a time to be celebrated. While the groom chooses the style of the ceremony, it is always the bride who is the center of attention.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
T
he heavy smell of ammonia nauseated Mia as she dipped her mop into the bucket. This morning she and Whitney had been charged with washing the floors of the entire house. It made Mia wish they had carpeting. Starting in the basement and working their way upstairs, the two girls would require several hours to finish the job.
“He sounds like a jerk,” Whitney said. “But at least you’ll never have to see him again.”
“After the ‘incident’ I spent the rest of dinner just giving him two-word answers. I don’t think he left happy. My mother must have decided to make today floor-washing day to punish me.”
“I still think you’re crazy for this idea.”
Mia was sick of this argument. “Why do you want to get married so badly?”
“Because I want children. I think I’ll be a good mother.”
“And what if you marry someone and only produce sons? Would you be able to toss them out?”
Whitney looked down and ignored Mia’s questions. She had a feeling Whitney was starting to get on board with the escape plan for her own reasons.
“Have you thought any more about our plans?” Mia asked.
“I have some ideas. I think we need to run quickly. If we take a straight shot south, we’ll go into Mexico, so let’s just do that.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“I also think we need to steal one of your father’s cars. That way we can get a bigger head start.”
“Are you crazy? He’ll kill us.”
“Um, rethink that statement. For starters, he can’t kill us if he never sees us again. Next, he is already going to kill us for trying to run.”
It didn’t take long for Mia to process this argument. “You’re right. Can you drive?”
“I can figure it out. I have some time to teach myself.”
“Amelia.” The bellow came from upstairs.
Her father barreled down the steps and grabbed Mia’s hand, yanking her up to her feet and starting to drag her up the steps.
Mia looked back at Whitney, who was confused, but Mia was not alarmed. She was certain it was her father’s turn to punish her for driving Grant away. But to her dismay, when she exited the basement, there stood none other than her displaced suitor. Grant stood cool and confident, wearing a deep-blue suit. He looked as formal as he had last night. Whereas Mia was wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt, her hair tucked in a messy bun.
“Forgive my daughter’s appearance. We weren’t expecting guests.”
“A woman should always look her best. You never know who is going to pop in,” Grant responded with a suave smile. “I’m sure many of her habits will change soon.”
“What are you doing here?” Mia asked.
Mia felt a slight smack on the back of her head. She turned to see her father glaring at her.
“That’s no way to speak to your future husband. I raised you better than that.”
“David, it is quite all right,” Grant said.
Mia hadn’t realized that her father and Grant were on a first-name basis already.
“I love a good challenge, and I’m sure in a short while Amelia will follow all the rules of my household. It’s part of the reason I picked her.”
It felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Mia was sure this was a nightmare and she would wake up any second. She turned to see Whitney standing behind her at the basement door, looking solemn. Unable to offer any assistance, her friend retreated down the stairs.
The two men continued to talk, but Mia couldn’t focus on what they were saying. All of a sudden, it dawned on her that they were expecting her to speak.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what the question was. I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.” Mia tried to catch her breath.
“Overwhelmed with happiness,” David said.
“Her happiness is not my concern,” Grant said. “I’m buying her to make
me
happy.”
Both men laughed at this, though Mia thought she saw some concern on her father’s face.
“I was hoping we could just have a small ceremony, maybe at the end of the week. As soon as the money clears and the paperwork is taken care of. That way I can get Amelia to her new home and I won’t have to worry about flying back and forth.”
“New home? Flying?” Mia was confused. “I thought there was a waiting period.”
“Darling, as I mentioned during dinner, I have friends in high places. I could get our union approved and paid for this evening if I wanted.” Grant examined his fingernails while he spoke. “And you didn’t think I lived here, did you? My home—
your
new home—is in the Northeast Area, about fifteen hundred miles from here.”
A map of the country and its five fractions flashed into Mia’s head. There was the Midwest Area, her home; the Northwest Area; the Northeast Area; the Southeast Area; and the Southwest Area. Mia didn’t want to move to the Northeast. She didn’t know anything about that section of the country. She pushed the thought out of her head; she wasn’t moving anywhere with this monster.
“I know her mother wanted to throw a party, but I’m sure we can get something together soon,” her father said. “This is her last wedding to plan, so I can’t deny her the fun.”
This could not be happening. Mia wrapped her arms around herself. She pinched her arms to keep her mind focused. She tuned the two men out as they discussed their plans for her. Her stomach began to ache and heave.
“May I be excused?” Mia said. “I want to go share the news with Whitney.”
“Of course.” Her father kissed her head. “Soon you’re not going to have to ask me for permission. You’ll have to ask Mr. Marsden.”
All fathers love their daughters. A daughter returns that love by obtaining a high marriage fee. Not only is a high appraisal price a point of pride, it is also repayment for the money and time spent raising her.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
N
o way, I am out.” Whitney shook her head. “Your husband is handsome. I’d love to have your life, and you want to run away from it.”
“This doesn’t change anything,” Mia said. “We just need to push up the time. It will be simple.”
She took Whitney by the shoulders, forcing her friend to look into her eyes. “Do you want to spend your life doing whatever they tell you or do you want to make a life of your own?”
“I can’t. It’s suicide.” Whitney wasn’t budging. “There just isn’t enough time. I’m sorry, but we don’t know what we are doing and it’s not worth the risk. We have no clue what’s out there. If we try to do this unprepared, we’ll get killed.”
“Time is the issue?” Mia wasn’t giving up. “What if I tried to talk to my father? Get the wedding delayed? I’ll get it pushed back at least a month.”
