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“It is,” I tell him. A glance to the side proves that Charlie and Eliza still don’t appear to be as enamored by the situation as we are. Charlie’s at the far end of the cabin, doing something on his phone, and though Eliza is looking out of the glass, I’ve literally never seen anyone appear that bored. I know that she’s wearing all of the jewelry that she bought herself the day before, and the fine black dress that she picked up for herself, too.
I glance up at Grant, but he just shrugs and turns back to the view. I get it. You can’t control how people act. And the date is nice for the two of us, if nothing else. It’s hard not to feel as though this is arealdate. I keep having to remind myself that we don’t actually love each other.
But that just makes me wonder—is it really fake if you have to keep telling yourself it’s not real? Is there some amount of truth to it if I’m warmed by his touch?
I don’t know. It’s probably not something that I should be thinking about right now. We focus on the way that the Ferris wheel starts to descend, creeping back down towards the stretch of the water beneath us, and then back towards its dock.
Charlie is the first one off, making a call the moment that he steps onto the boardwalk. Eliza is right behind him. She looks increasingly unhappy about the lack of attention that’s being given to her. It’s understandable. Even though they aren’t in love, she’s here to have fun—and there’s no fun in being ignored.
With the double date already over, Grant and I walk along the bank of the river until it’s time to meet his parents for dinner. He’s got his arm around my shoulders, pressing me close to him. Charlie and Eliza are nowhere to be seen—they’ll probably head there directly— but I like that we are keeping the pretense up for a little longer. He gives me a thorough guided tour of all the interesting sights around us until it’s time to head across town to a place called The Moon, a high-class gastronomy-based eatery. As we walk towards the entrance, Grant lags back. He’s got his hand tangled in mine, which means that I end up lagging back, too.
It’s not by much. Just ten or twenty feet. “This is going to be the big night, okay?” Grant says, softly.
“You mean—the question?” Even though there’s nothing to it, my cheeks are faintly pink. We discussed this in depth before coming to London, of course... Doing a big public proposal to let both families know how serious we are about each other.
But it’s still exciting. A proposal, even a fake one, feels like the kind of thing that is meant to change someone’s entire world. At least, it’s going to change the shape of my world, and how people deal with me—both his family and my own.
I take a deep breath and nod. “I’m ready.”
“Remember to act surprised,” says Grant, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Just make sure that you make this count.”
And then we’re inside of The Moon, being led to a steel top table next to a large window with a city view. Cheryl and Don are there waiting for us, Charlie and Eliza already sitting next to them, not looking at each other.
“There you are,” says Don, with a little nod of the head.
“Well,” says Cheryl. “At least the two of you look happy.”
“I’m glad to be here,” I say, sitting down. “How has your day been?”
“Oh, you know. Busy enough to stay awake,” says Cheryl, with a laugh.
Both men groan, but I grin at her. “Busy enough to stay awake. I like that.”
“She’s been saying that since we were kids,” says Grant. “You’ll get tired of hearing it soon enough.”
“At least someone has stayed busy,” says Eliza under her breath. She shoots Charlie a rather sour look, her mouth pursing.
“Just drop it already. I told you that we would do more shopping tomorrow.” Charlie says.
Cheryl frowns at them both, and then turns to look more fully at me. “Have you eaten at one of these before?”
I shake my head.
“That makes two of us, then. I’ve heard that it’s all the rage and wanted to try it out for myself, but I just don’t know what to think about all these foams and gels,” says Cheryl.
“We’ll try it together,” I say. “Maybe it will be more filling than it sounds.”
Don tells us, “It’s supposed to be good. I’ve seen this place on TV.”
“I doubt it,” says Charlie. “You know, there’s a steak house just across the street. We could have gone there and had some real food.”
Grant says, “I wanted to treat mom to something special tonight.”
“Real food would have been special,” grumbles Charlie, but he’s cut off by the waiter coming and passing out the menus. I don’t know what most of the dishes are going to taste like, so I tell Grant to order for me—so does his mother.
Don gives the menu a much longer look before tossing it down onto the table with a shake of his head. “I don’t understand what any of these dishes are. It seems a lot more complicated than dinner is supposed to be.”
