Half and Half

When Luke thought about marriage, the words tears, vengeance, and obligation came to mind. His parents were the prime example of why marriage meant misery. They were the worst match out of all the couples he knew. Every discussion turned into an argument, or worse, a physical altercation. His mother was a free-thinking artist, and his father was a strict accountant. The only thing they had in common was their strong wills, and they used them to torture the other. Divorce was off the table, so Luke and his siblings had to endure the yelling, petty arguments, and maliciousness.

His classmates endured similar home lives. Some had one affectionate parent and one distant, others has one stingy and the other generous, and a few as awful as compassionate versus narcissistic. It wasn’t until high school civics class where Luke learned why polar opposite marriages were the norm.

In the year twenty-ninety, the United Nations discovered the worldwide birth rate was at an all-time low. The worldwide average was .33 children per one thousand people. The United Nations initially attempted to harvest fetuses in labs, but many of the fetuses died because of the absence of a mother’s connection. They attempted to use prisoners as surrogates, but prenatal care became too expensive. The fertility committee hatched a plan. For the next two hundred years, every man and woman would be assigned a partner at twenty-five. Each partnership would be selected via algorithm based on likes, dislikes, beliefs, and temperaments, and those couples will be obligated to produce at least four children.

Luke raised his hand and asked, “If an algorithm is selecting our bonds, why are marriages so awful? Shouldn’t the software connect people who are compatible?”

The teacher chuckled and shook her head. “No, compatibility breeds connection, and connection breeds love, and love is inconsistent. They discovered that love and the desire for it, was the reason the birthrate declined. Individuals were waiting for love and marriage in order to produce a child. If they treated love and marriage with the same reverence as filing taxes, the populous would treat it as an obligation rather than an act of love.”

“What happens if the assigned couple falls in love?” asked another student.

“They would be forced to divorce or face imprisonment,” the teacher said. “The latter is rare, but it happens.”

This truth unnerved him substantially. He was doomed to meet a partner that he would at best tolerate or, at worst, loathe. He never expected to love his future wife. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know he loved her.

Luke had a feeling of dread that reflected the turmoil of inmates facing execution. That day, he decided he would enjoy his freedom until the bitter end.

Luke left his siblings and combative parents the day he turned eighteen. He rented a studio in a small mountain town. There he took online classes, read, hiked, and just enjoyed the solitude. This was the first time in his life where he experienced peace within his own home. The sounds of shouting and breaking dishes were replaced by the sounds of brewing coffee and birds chirping. The nights were quiet, void of miserable whimpers, and the only person he was responsible for was himself.

Every birthday was a step closer to the end. Rather than celebrated with his associates, he retreated to the forest and camped, embracing the solitude. Some years he would hunt and fish, and other years he would stay in his tents and cry knowing the moments of bliss wouldn’t last forever. His twenty-fourth birthday was his lowest moment. He considered staying in the forest and leaving his life behind, but he had no desire to disappear. Love is not possible in this life, but being alone or unhappy couldn’t be the only two options remaining. He would make peace with his wife, and perhaps they could coexist. Therefore, he would not have to abandon his life to maintain his freedom, and maybe she would find satisfaction in their arrangement as well.

A month before his twenty-fifth birthday, Luke was sent a matrimony summons. Administrators would marry him and his bride in Maryland and issue them a home in Baltimore, allowing him only six weeks to pack nearly seven years of memories to be shipped across the country. He would not alert his family. Marriage ceremonies were as tedious as visits to the DMV with no reason to be celebrated.

~

On the day of his wedding, Luke arrived at the courthouse twenty minutes early. His stomach was in knots as he traversed the front steps. The best he could hope for was a wife who was not violent or vindictive. He could handle a slob, a liar, someone gluttonous, or self-serving.

He entered the marriage office waiting room. There were six people there already, three women and three men, and they all have the expression of a person gearing up for a root canal. Luke concentrated on his breathing when he took his seat. He surveyed the three women in the room, knowing any of them could be his future wife.

The first woman wore a black lacy dress and chunky combat boots, with a matching lace veil over her face and black and silver rings donning every finger. He attempted to make out her face through the veil, but she hissed at him and he looked away immediately.

“Please, not her. Please, not her. Please, not her,” he thought to himself.

The next woman wore a glittery tweed suit. She wore makeup, heels, and stationed white sunglasses on her head. She typed into her phone and brought it up to eye level.

“Hi guys,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. “Today is the day I’m being assigned a husband. Don’t worry. I will continue with my videos. Even if he hates my vlogs, he won’t stop me and little does he know, he’s about to be a part of them.”

Luke and the man nearest to him, a gentleman in ill-fitting sweatpants and oversized hoodie, stare wide eyed at one another. Being a social media husband sounded like a nightmare to Luke. He preferred to be with the hissing goth over the social media darling.

A harassed-looking woman entered the waiting room with a clipboard. “Clemmons and Allen.”

“Here we go,” the influencer said, rising to her feet.

The color drained from the face of the man in sweats as he robotically stood.

“Oh no,” the influencer said, looking him up and down. “You will need a lot of work.”

She grabbed the hook of his arm and lead him to the door. As badly as he felt for the man, he was glad that he wasn’t being dragged to the back.

A woman in a powder blue dress and gold heels entered the room. Her eyes remained trained on the floor as she approached an empty seat. She kept her hands on her chest while taking slow, intentional breaths. The woman appeared as if the slightest noise would scare her.

Across the room sat a large and burly man in a suit. He eyed the woman hungrily, and Luke’s heart fell. They were bound to be assigned to one another, and the man would terrorize that poor woman.

“Gates and Bishop,” says a staff member.

The suited man stood, but his mouth fell open in horror when he saw it was not the woman in the blue dress joining him, but the hissing goth. He skulked to the door while she glided after him. Luke could not help but smile as he replayed the moment over in his head.

“Wells and Norris” said a staff member, an elderly woman with a frazzled expression. Luke stood, but to his surprise, so did the timid woman. She met his eyes and gave him a curt nod before walking to the door.

They followed the staff member to a room of cubicles. He and his bride were ushered to a cubicle in the corner.

The staff member sat behind the desk while they took the two chairs. She slid a marriage license across the table and said, “Sign.”

He and the woman signed their names above the lines titled bride and groom. He snuck a peek at her signature. Maya Norris. His wife’s name was Maya Norris.

The woman accepted the certificate and asked, “What will your married name be?”

“We have to choose now?” Maya asked.

“Yes,” she replied flatly, holding a pen above a form. “Will you be keeping your own names? Taking the last name Wells or Norris? Or will you be creating your own last name?”

“I’m indifferent to my last name,” Maya said.

“As am I,” Luke agreed. In his mind, the last name Wells was synonymous with spite and neglect.

The staff member asked, “How about Luke and Maya Nolls?”

“That’s fine with me,” Luke said.

“Me too,” Maya added.

The staff member exhaled and a smile spread across her face. “Now to the housing.”

~

Three hours later, Luke and Maya Nolls entered their four-bedroom townhouse. The movers placed their boxes and furniture sporadically throughout the living room and kitchen. His neutral couches clashed with her evergreen sectional. She had a gold coffee table and gold side tables, which opposed Luke’s wooden ones. Someone would have to dispose of their items.

Her choices in furniture assaulted his eyes initially, but after some adjustment, the collection seemed so deliberate. Throwing them out would cause her great sadness, which would be an awful way to start a marriage.

“We can keep your furniture,” Luke said with a shrug. “I’ll donate mine.”

She eyed the chaos for a moment with a distant look on her face. “No,” she muttered.

“No?” Luke asked. Was Maya a contrarian, who was determined to argue even when she was given exactly what she wanted?

“Would you want a man-cave?” she asked.

“A man-cave?”

“A space that is completely yours,” Maya said. “My father used the primary suite as his man cave.”

“He turned the biggest room in the house into his playroom?” Luke asked incredulously. “What about the rest of you?”

“My siblings and I shared two rooms and my parents shared the other.”

Her father sounded selfish, and her matter-of-fact explanation made him uncomfortable.

“I won’t do that.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as she lifted her gaze for the first time. She mutters, “How about an insulated shed in the backyard?”

Luke smiled, envisioning a space where he could read and enjoy solitude, and nodded. “That sounds really nice.”

“Good,” Maya says, returning his smile.

~

Luke and Maya walked on eggshells during the initial few months of their marriage. Luke spent most of his time in his newly constructed man-cave. Maya spent most of her time out of the house. They shared a bedroom but slept on opposite edges of their king sized bed. Dinners were miserable on account of neither of them wanting to choose their meal for fear of offending the other.

After ten weeks of the madness, Luke sat in his man-cave, looking out the window towards the house. Maya stood before the window eyeing two seasoning blends. She stared for several minutes before wiping her eyes. Unable to bear it anymore, he stormed out of the man-cave to the house.

When Luke entered the back door, he heard soft whimpers from the kitchen. He froze, recalling the similar sounds his mother would make in the middle of the night. Somehow, even with all the concessions made, he still made her cry.

He slowly entered the kitchen and found Maya leaned over the island, with her face in her hands. “Maya?” he called softly.

She jerked at the sounds of her name and rushed to the pantry. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I trying to figure out which marinade to use, but I promise dinner won’t be long.”

She returned to the table with an arm full of ingredients, eyes full of tears.

“Maya,” Luke said, taking the things out of her hands. “It’s okay. How about we order pizza?”

She burst into sobs and fell to her knees. Between wheezes, she cried, “I’m such a disappointment. I’m so sorry that you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not,” Luke says, joining her on the floor. He had not planned on saying those words, but when Maya stopped crying and looked at him with wide eyes, he was glad he did. “You are kind and that is more than I could have hoped for in a wife. I can’t promise you we’ll always get along, but I can promise that I will always show you kindness in return.”

“Why?” she croaked.

“My parents were always worried about their own wants and needs. So much so that it seemed like a competition for who could get their way, and unfortunately, most of their battles were inconsequential, but my siblings and I suffered. I don’t want that for us or our future children, so I want you to be happy even if it brings me discomfort.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever cared about my happiness before,” Maya admits.

“Well, get used to it because I want us to find a way to live full lives together.”

Luke rose to his feet and extended his hand to Maya. She took it and he helped her to her feet. “So pizza?” she asks with a weary smile. “What kind?”

“You like meat?”

“Veggie.”

Luke chuckled at the absurdity of the marriage.

“Half and half?” Maya asked.

“Half and half.”

~

Half and half became their new mantra. Every other day Luke awoke to the sound of bubbly music blaring throughout the house, only to be greeted by a dancing Maya in the kitchen. The music was a bit superficial, but he appreciated how it unlocked her carefree nature. After a while, he grew to enjoy the hopeful melodies. 

On mornings, where the house was silent, she still continued to smile, but instead of dancing, she read his books as she cooked. At first he was surprised and a bit embarrassed because he dishonored his books by writing in the margins, but one morning she said, “I like how you recognized the sandals motif, representing comfort. It changed how I saw the story, and I had to read it again.”

“The notes didn’t bother you?” Luke asked, remembering his mother’s frustration with his scribbling.

“Not at all,” she laughed. “I enjoy hearing your perspective.”

His heart jolted in his chest, and he had to catch his breath. No one had ever cared enough to want to know his thoughts.

Through half and half, he was exposed to different cuisines. He was a meat and potatoes type of man for most of his life and never found the reason to try new dishes. Maya loved international cuisines, and every other day they ate something foreign to his taste buds. He wasn’t a fan of Greek or Mexican, but he liked Japanese, Jamaican, and most of all, Thai. As time went on, some of his meal choices were beyond the typical meat and potatoes.

He went to the outdoor mall with her, and she traveled to the woods with him. He wore more colors, and she learned how to fish. After a year of immersing himself in Maya’s passions and way of life, he found himself happier than he had ever been alone. He wanted to ensure that she continued smiling, trying new foods, dancing, and embracing color for the remainder of her days.

Being around Maya brought him a contentment that surpassed all of his trips to the forest or his studio apartment. This attachment he felt was so unusual for him. Why is it that when they were together, he felt as if he were where he needed to be? Was this love?

The realization felt like ice water being dumped over him. He had to get away and clear his mind. If it were love, he would lose her. He would have to crush these feelings. He rushed to their bedroom and packed a duffle bag.

“Where are you going?” Maya asked.

“Um, I was going to go camping for a bit,” Luke said nonchalantly.

“Great, I’ve been itching to go back,” she says, rushing to her closet and grabbing a bag. He wanted to tell her that this would be a solo venture, but she looked so excited he couldn’t bear to tell her no.

~

They set up camp next to a stream. They sat at the mouth of the tent and listened to the birds, insects, and water. Maya had a distant expression as she watched the current of the stream. He wanted to talk to her, but hearing her voice would only cloud his thoughts. Instead, he fixed his gaze on a nearby nest. If only he was a bird, he would not have to worry about the marriage law. He could choose another, make his intentions known, and exist together without fear or expectations.

“Luke,” she muttered.

“Yes?” Luke replied, continuing to watch the nest.

“How would you feel if I said I wanted to stay here?”

“What?” he said, rapidly turning his gaze towards her.

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she reached out for his hand. “I want to be your wife beyond obligation and formalities.”

He gaped as he took in her words. She loved him too, but what she was asking was foolish and would most likely end in disaster. Yet, a small part of him knew that any pain would be worth loving her properly.

“I would love that,” Luke said, a smile spreading across his face. He reached out and touched her cheek, wiping away her tear. She placed a hand over his, and they gazed at one another, eyes filled with affection. Unable to hold back his love any longer, he leaned in and kissed his wife.