The 37th Amendment: A Novel Read Free Page B

and decorated the living room of her three-bedroom house southeast of Hollywood. He had no choice but to take her to the game, even though she hated any sport that wasn’t ice skating or gymnastics. Then Julia had refused to be rushed through dinner, so the dinner was in her refrigerator, waiting to be heated up after the game, and Ted was hungry, and cranky, and fifty, and out five hundred dollars from the deadbeat no-show who still wasn’t in his seat.
    Ted Braden looked younger than fifty, perhaps because most people in Los Angeles who were fifty were actually sixty-two. Six-foot-four-inches tall and lean, he looked like a serious weekend athlete, with muscular legs, broad shoulders and a deep tan. His dark brown hair was carefully tousled in front to conceal the early evidence of a receding hairline.
    The first quarter was well underway by the time Julia returned with two cold beers and a bucket of popcorn. “You wouldn’t believe the line,” she said. There was a loud roar and Julia flinched as people jumped to their feet all around them. “What happened?” she asked.
    “Turnover ! ” Ted shouted, punching a fist at the air. Julia sighed and looked up at the scoreboard. A little over six minutes to play in the first quarter. She sat down on the yellow plastic folding seat and crossed her legs. The two seats in front of them were still empty. “Maybe you were right about him,” Julia said, pointing to the seat in front of her, “Still not here.”
    “I’m going to call him when I get home tonight,” Ted said. “I don’t remember his last name, but he gave me his card once. I’m going to find it.”
    “Tonight?” Julia asked.
    The crowd roared, and Ted turned back to the game.
    Hours later when the final buzzer sounded, Julia was instantly on her feet. “I’m starving,” she said. “Let’s go.”
    “Me, too,” Ted lied. With the Lakers comfortably ahead late in the third quarter, he had ducked out on the pretext of going to the men’s room and paid the guy who was first in line at the concessions window fifty bucks to buy him two hot dogs.
    It was a seven-block walk to the only garage where Ted would consider parking the Corvette. Julia snuggled against him as they walked, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Are you cold?” Ted asked. “Do you want my jacket?”
    “No,” Julia cooed. “I want to get married.”
    And Ted had thought the Kite Festival was bad news.
    “Married?” Ted said before he could stop himself. “Nobody gets married.”
    “I’m old-fashioned,” Julia said. “I want kids, and I want to be married. Let’s get married.”
    Ted heard himself exhale in a sigh that could have rocked a building.
    “What does that mean?” Julia asked sharply.
    “What does what mean?”
    “That big sigh.”
    “Oh.” Ted considered his words carefully. “Come on, Julia, you know what it’s like in California. Once you get married it’s almost impossible to....” He hesitated. “If it doesn’t work out, we would both have a huge financial headache. You know how the covenant law works. We’d have to spend two years in court-ordered counseling and then there’s that whole thing with the state trust fund if we have kids. Why go down that path? Let’s just keep things the way they are.”
    “Ted, I’m thirty-two. We’ve been going together for five years. If you don’t love me enough to marry me, maybe I need to move on.”
    “Julia, be reasonable.” Ted stopped and stepped aside to let two police officers walk past them on the sidewalk. “Let’s talk about this. Maybe you’re just hungry.”
    Julia glared daggers at him. They reached the parking garage and Ted held the glass door as Julia stormed through it ahead of him.
    It was a cool drive in the convertible on the way back to Julia’s house.
    “So how’s work?” Ted tried.
    “Busy,” Julia said. “We’re installing a new software back-up system for Brownell & Edwards.”
    “You’ve got some big