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“You want to get somebody to pretend to be Adam?” A fake boyfriend to represent a fake boyfriend. Suddenly, my life had become an Escher painting with so many overlapping lies my brain couldn’t make sense of it.
“Just for the day!” Mom lowered her voice to a whisper. “To keep people from asking you intrusive questions. Justin and his mom are already coming.”
Ah yes, my one-time middle school date with a criminal past. I stabbed the peach pie in front of me hard with a fork. “I don’t know, might be too much temptation.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “Well... I’m sure... You’re committed to Adam, right? So one day of pretending Justin is Adam can’t be that tempting?”
“Tempting for Justin,” I clarified. “Since we rented luxury portable toilets for the reception. He might not be able to stop himself from exploding one.”
“Jenna!” Mom rolled her eyes. “What about your dad’s coworker? I know you haven’t met, but—”
“Is he prepared to answer questions about being an infectious disease doctor? Or Philadelphia? What about when I show back up with Adam at Christmas—we’re just going to tell everyone Adam dropped twenty-five years and fifty pounds?” Not that Adam and I would be spending the holiday together, but I needed to illustrate just how ridiculous the plan was so Mom would give up.
“Travis is a man of few words, so I don’t think we have to worry about him saying the wrong thing. And maybe... Maybe we’ll say Adam did part-time keto?”
Mom was going too far this time. “That’s ridiculous. All of it.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Mom asked. “I don’t want you to spend the day dodging insensitive comments.”
The night before Beth’s wedding wasn’t an ideal time to unload years of hurt and frustration on Mom, but I was even more done than the burnt ends of the pulled pork dinner. “What I want is for you to tell the guests you love me as a single person and that my happiness and wellbeing is more important to you than whether or not I ever have a boyfriend.”
Mom looked at me, confusion all over her face. “But... you’re not single.”
My stomach sank. That was all she had to say—she didn’t have to defend me because it wasn’t true? My resolution to be honest with her deteriorated faster than my fake boyfriend’s fake patient.
Beth came up and hugged me, then Mom. “Heading out now.”
Mom beamed at Beth like we hadn’t just been enacting a daytime talk show drama. “For the midnight yoga? You have fun with your friends, honey.”
Midnight was an Asheville misnomer for anything that happened after eight p.m., but still, we had a very early start the next day. “Bye! See you at five tomorrow!” Hopefully, the pointed reminder would get Beth up to start hair and makeup without me having to coax her awake.
“I’ll be ready,” she assured me, and then left.
The other guests, mostly Chase’s family and a few more of their friends, started to leave as well, along with an irate Aunt Kathy and shamefaced Uncle Howard.
My cousin Michael came to say goodbye, holding his sleeping toddler to his chest. “Well, I think I’m ready for tomorrow. I’ve got the seating chart memorized.”
“Do you need help with anything tonight?” his wife Lisa asked.
“Just get Keith home,” I urged, waving a hand to shoo them out the door. I pushed away from the table. “Better start taking down the decorations.” My phone buzzed loudly with another text.
“Adam?” Mom asked brightly.
“No, Dad sent a picture of all the wax options.” It was hard to tell on my phone screen, but none of the purples looked like boysenberry. In fact, the color we’d thought was correct (and which Beth insisted was actually plum) was already closer than any of those.
Get them all, I wrote back. Maybe if Beth saw the other colors she’d realize that plum was closest to her vision. Or maybe we should just use the plum wax to seal the seeded paper favors and hope she was too deliriously in love to notice tomorrow when we gave out the wedding favors.
The only people left in the room were me, Patrick, and Mom, as I began clearing the decorations.
“Jenna, wait a second.” Mom put a hand on my arm. “I want you to know that I only care about you and your feelings. I’m sorry about Aunt Kathy and everyone else who might hurt you.”
Not wanting to get caught in any drama, Patrick shot me a wide-eyed look and then crossed the room as fast as he could on crutches.
I looked down at the wooden apples in my hands. I had two choices: cheerfully assure Mom I understood and say whatever it took to get her to think I was fine, or tell her the truth and risk triggering an emotional volcano. If I told Mom how much her words hurt, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Not tonight, or the rest of the trip. Not ever.
Right. Because the time I ran away from my job at Duke and moved states to avoid gossip had been super easy. As had the last week plus skirting around Adam at the hospital. And especially the past two days lying about his bogus patient.
I couldn’t keep doing it. Maybe Ellie was right, and the distraction of the wedding would work in my favor. “I know you mean well, but honestly, the thing that makes me the most upset right now isn’t Aunt Kathy’s insensitive comments—It’s that you won’t accept what I want.”
