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“Well, I’m sure he’s a very pretty man.”
“I wouldn’t categorize him that way.” To say Charlotte owed me was an understatement. We were well beyond tropical vacation now. She better throw in cash and a car at this rate.
“Speaking of pretty,” Mom moved on, while I was still withering inside. “Patrick is awfully handsome, and he drives a very nice car. Is it true he’s a doctor?” For as upset as she had just been over the possibility of me being engaged, she changed her tune awfully fast.
“Yes, he’s a doctor, but that’s not the point.”
“I heard he’s a plastic surgeon. Does he give family discounts? What would you think if I got a tummy tuck? Or a butt lift? Do you think your father would like that?”
Uh, yuck. I tried not to think about it at all. “Dad loves you just the way you are. Besides, Patrick is running a clinic now that specializes in helping people who have been scarred by burns or plastic surgeries that have gone wrong.” I learned that tidbit on our drive back to the inn. I was happy to know the healing spa was actually a place of healing. Sure, they would do minor nonsurgical cosmetic procedures there for what was sure to be a rich and famous clientele. The best news was, it didn’t open until January, so Patrick was going to have a lot of free time on his hands. Maybe if things went well, he could use those hands on me. That could help me be a believer. “And there will be no family discounts, since we aren’t actually related.”
“I’m confused, honey, are you or are you not marrying this man?” How could she still be confused? I knew she’d talked to Charlotte earlier, who had explained what happened at the store. And how many ways could I say it in this conversation?
“Mom, we aren’t really engaged.” I wasn’t even sure if we would continue to fake it. I would see how things went after having dinner with Patrick and his children tonight. And the only reason I was even considering keeping up the ruse, as Patrick called it, was because the entire world already seemed to know, and of course I wanted to help Charlotte. And maybe I really wanted to nail Dave to the wall.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“I thought you were upset I wasengaged.”
“Only that you didn’t tell me.”
“Of course I would tell you if I were engaged.”
“How do you even know this man?”
I would have thought she would’ve asked that question first. “Actually, it’s kind of a funny story. I met him while I was in college.”
“You went to school together?”
“No. Remember that trip I took to Colorado?”
“When Jared broke up with you?” she asked delicately.
“Yeah, that’s the one. I met Patrick on that trip.”
My mother went silent for a few beats, letting that information sink in. “When you say met him, what does that mean?”
“I think that’s pretty straightforward.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, young lady.”
“Mom, I’m almost forty-one.” No one called me young anymore.
“I’m still your mother. Which reminds me, I think I should come early. I want to bake your birthday cake, and now that it appears you’re the one getting married, I should come and meet Patrick. It sounds like there is a story there you’ve never told me.”
I sat straight up. “That’s not necessary. Besides, who knows if this fake engagement will last, and you hate the cold weather.” She’d already been complaining about the time she would be spending here for the actual wedding. And Patrick and I weren’t at the meet-the-parents stage. I was just hoping to get to know him again and to know his kids—and maybe kiss his face off like I’d promised to do a long time ago. Honestly, it felt odd to be fake engaged and not kissing. But I wasn’t sure how these fake engagement things really worked. Surely not like the movies or books.
“For my girls, I’ll do anything. I’ll have your father change our flights.”
“Mom, the inn is booked right now.” I hoped to deter her. Don’t get me wrong—I loved my parents, but let’s just say they would make things more interesting. And Mom liked to run the show.
“So what? We’ll stay with you girls and Jameson in the cottage.”
“Great, great, just great.” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my tone but failed. It didn’t matter, as my mother wasn’t really listening anyway. “But, again, I’m not really getting married and this whole engagement thing isn’t real,” I made my final plea.
“If you break up, you’ll want me to be there to comfort you, won’t you?”
Oh man, she was good. I rolled into the couch, knowing I had been defeated. “Of course,” I said muffled into the phone.
