The Marriage Clause by Dahlia Rose

“That’s a little girl and her bunny.”
    Brownie tilted the glasses down and looked as they passed by. “That’s not my fault, little girls should look like little girls. Why did they cut her hair like that?”
    “Gran, it’s progressive times. Little girls don’t need a bunch of hair, they can be soccer players and all kinds of stuff now,” Mikael teased.
    “If India has a girl are you cutting her hair?” she asked.
    “That will be a no, and it’s a girl,” Mikael said.
    Brownie smiled. “You’re that sure, huh?”
    “Yep, I am.”
    “Your grandfather was sure about your father too, and you when your mother was pregnant,” she said.
    “It’s a pity he couldn’t see them running off and ditching me,” Mikael said.
    She covered his hand with hers. “None of us saw that, but we’ve had a good life, haven’t we?”
    He smiled at his grandmother, the only woman who gave a damn to love him and care for him. Between India’s Gran and Brownie, he’d known more love than he had growing up as a child. Etta had no trouble going upside his head with a slap when he decided he was man enough to talk back, and Brownie, well she had her own kind of punishment and sometimes he’d prefer the slap. Like when she showed up at his high school dressed in overalls, a large floppy hat with a daffodil around it, and wearing the most outrageous shoes and make-up. He never talked back to her again, knowing full well she could do way worse if she put her mind to it. Even so, being disrespectful cost him three months of being teased at school, and she didn’t bat an eye in pity.
    Mikael found a parking spot close to the restaurant where they’d be having lunch. He helped Brownie from the car and she linked her hand through the crook of his arm as they walked to the front door. The hostess seated them in minutes, they had a good table by the windows so they could see outside while they ate.
    “Can I have a Perrier water with lemon please,” Brownie said with a smile to the waitress.
    “I’ll have a Sam Adams summer ale,” Mikael said.
    “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress replied.
    “At least she’s smiling, most of the people in the hospitality department seem angry lately,” Brownie commented.
    “It’s the city, the cost of living has skyrocketed here and they have to hustle to make rent and pay bills. A two bedroom apartment is almost two thousand dollars now,” Mikael sighed. “I think India may be right, and I’m being a dumbass about moving in with her.”
    “You are being a dumbass, but we raised you to be independent,” Brownie replied. “I can still remember your grandfather taking you with him to the newspaper stand when I had to work. I know you don’t remember it, but those were very good times.”
    “I remember the pictures in the albums, I wish I could remember Granddad though,” Mikael said.
    “He’s who got you calling me Brownie because you wanted them with breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” she said.
    Mikael laughed. “I still do.”
    “In any case, I’ve solved the dilemma of your housing argument and I already brought Gran in on it,” Brownie said.
    The waitress brought their drinks back and they ordered lunch before Mikael spoke again.
    “You solved it, how so?” He took a sip of ice-cold beer. The honey wheat ale taste was wonderful on the hot summer day.
    “You and India will be taking my house and I’m moving in her apartment with Etta.” Brownie opened her purse and handed him an envelope. “The deed has already been made out to you both, and my lawyer has handled the transition paperwork. All you and India have to do is sign and it’s yours.”
    Mikael looked at her in astonishment. “Brownie no, you love that place, it’s what you and Grandad worked for…”
    “No,” she cut his words off. “We worked to provide for our grandson who was more like a son in every possible way. That place is too big and I’m alone in it. It will be nice living