Marriage by Mistake

shelter. He had gone out and gotten those checks for their expansion.
    He'd even told her he loved her.
    Memories of their recent interactions swirled dizzily through her mind: his anger and tenderness, spite and humanity. She couldn't make heads or tails of this man. And, suddenly, she didn't want to make heads or tails of him. Even putting the best light on things, he was mercurial, erratic...unreliable. Not for her.
    With a heavy churn of clashing emotions -- anger and injury, confusion and yearning, she put on the cool smiling mask she'd perfected over the years. "Yes, Troy," she told him. "And you, too. Have a nice evening."
    Then, having accomplished her mission, a mission that never had to be repeated, she turned and, all serene elegance, strolled out of the room.
    ~~~
    Troy watched Felicia imitate a vengeful goddess as she swept from the Club lounge. She looked absolutely magnificent. He felt like an idiot coward.
    Why couldn't he have accepted her thanks? It would have been the gracious thing to do.
    But he'd been too terrified to act gracious. What if she imagined he'd gotten those checks through some kind of talent? Or, worse yet, through hard work? It had only been dumb luck. He'd come across Joe Esterley when he was still reeling from April 15 and had been looking for write-offs for the coming year. As for Emery Hunsington, oh, he was just a soft touch. It didn't mean a thing that everywhere Troy went lately he'd found himself mentioning the shelter, dropping seeds into the minds of people with fat checkbooks. He hadn't taken on a responsibility. He'd simply become...weirdly obsessed.
    With a flicker of green, Felicia's skirt disappeared around the edge of the lounge door. She was gone. Troy let out a deep breath and sank back into his chair. Instead of putting his feet up again, he perched on the edge of the chair, his forearms on his knees.
    No, Troy certainly didn't want Felicia thinking he'd started any kind of career here. He didn't want her thinking he was taking that fundraising job, for heaven's sake. He could not afford to have people rely on him. Unh unh.
    Least of all could Troy afford for Felicia to think she could rely on him. Coaxing a few checks out of some friends did not constitute Troy's transformation into a trustworthy man of integrity. No, siree. He wasn't the solid, dependable man Felicia should have in her life, the fellow who could heal the scars that her clay-footed father had laid on her.
    Troy put a hand over his suddenly unhappy stomach. Surely he didn't want to be such a man. No, not even considering that with each check he'd obtained he'd felt a rush of pride. It couldn't be true that he had such ridiculous aspirations.
    Perhaps he was a coward, but he'd been right to push Felicia away. He was still just a lazy goof-off. Troy grimaced and rubbed his stomach. He was certain he'd done the right thing.
    ~~~
    Dean did not go into work the day after his epiphany of pain. Oh, why should he? He was tired. He certainly didn't feel up to being efficient, controlled, or brave. In his bathrobe, he puttered around the house.
    While idling in the family room, he ran into Robby's cache of video games. Dean fingered the colorful boxes and decided to put in a disc. Why not? The computer whirred and a variety of fearsome dinosaurs popped onto the screen. Dean quickly figured out his character was the one armed with a submachine gun. He laughed out loud when he shot down his first T. Rex. My, but that was gratifying.
    He got to the fifth level in the dinosaur game before he finally quit at two in the morning.
    The next day Dean played through to the highest level in the dinosaur game. Fortunately, Robby had other discs. Dean pawed through them. Some lifted his eyebrows. If he'd known Robby owned this stuff he would have tossed it. As it was...Dean tried them all.
    A little over a week later Troy appeared. He'd kept himself scarce since Kirk's visit, but now stood in the hall behind Dean. "What are you doing ?" Troy asked.
    Dean was sitting on Robby's wheeled office chair, faced away from the hall. He didn't stop punching the button on his joystick. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
    "I know what it looks like, I'm just having trouble believing my eyes. Is that 'Babes in Uniform' you've got on there?"
    Dean narrowed his eyes and hit a key. Instantly a colored floating ball replaced the field of overly-endowed women warriors. He adjusted the collar of his bathrobe and rolled his chair around