Page 79 of Hula Girl

I’m torn. I don’t want to lie to him. He deserves nothing but my honesty. But his voice and his eyes are so hopeful that I feel like I have no choice but to keep up the ruse.

“Yes, he really is,” I say.

He smiles. “It’s important that all my girls are happy, you know?”

“Oh, uh, that’s so sweet.” I realize this isn’t him being mentally unclear, but rather his way of saying how much I mean to him, that he considers me part of his family.

“He seems like a good boy,” he continues. “They say he’s whip-smart. And anyway, the thing that matters most is the way he looks at you.”

He nods across the table and I follow his gaze. Ford had been watching us and he doesn’t look away now. We lock eyes, and he gives me a wink.

There’s a tapping of metal on glass and all conversations slowly hush.

Ford’s father is standing at the head of the table, patiently waiting for everyone’s attention to be focused on him.

“I want to thank you all for being here,” he starts. “And big thanks to Paige for putting together such a lovely evening.”

Paige must be Senior’s girlfriend. She half stands to acknowledge the polite applause from the crowd. She’s about my age with long blonde hair, a thin frame, and large breasts—the definition of an LA social climber, in other words.

“Tonight, is actually a very special occasion,” he continues, and I cringe. This is going to be the toast that Ford predicted would happen. I brace myself for some insulting reference to my rise from Boyle Heights, but to my surprise, he passes on the chance to announce the engagement, instead saying, “Ford, come on up here, won’t you?”

Ford looks at me and must see a still-worried expression on my face, because he winks before getting up and joining his father at the head of the table.

“I thought it would be more appropriate to have Ford share his news rather than me,” Ford’s father says and takes a step back.

It dawns on me that his father has done this not out of respect for it being Ford’s moment, but because Ford hasn’t spoken to him about me. He doesn’t know anything about our “story” and so can’t begin to tell it.

Ford glances up at the expectant crowd before meeting my eyes. I have no idea what he’ll say, and my stomach tightens in anticipation.

“Well, quite a few of you have heard the news about my engagement to Ava Ruiz,” Ford says, and the crowd murmurs before settling back down. “But I’ll tell you all a little more now. She and I met by chance in a totally unexpected place. In fact, if it wasn’t for a wild chicken, of all things, running her off the road, we’d never have met.” He pauses to let the laughter die down. “The thing is, as odd as that circumstance was, I think the universe put us in each other’s paths,wild chicken in the road, and all. I know it’s crazy, but I fell for this woman that first day we met. And I’ve kept on falling ever since.”

I’ve got tears in my eyes, and my heart has twisted and tightened along with my stomach. His choice of words is not lost on me. If I could manage to look across the table at my mother, I imagine she would recognize it too. He’s repurposed the story she told us about meeting my father.

“And so, I had to ask her,” Ford continues, his eyes still fixed on mine. “I had to tell her that if she would just take a chance on me, onus, I’d promise to make her happy for the rest of her life.”

The audible coos this receives soon gives way to applause. But I’m so confused. On the one hand, Ford just made an incredibly romantic and seemingly sincere grand gesture with what he’s said. I want to believe he’s genuine. I want to believe that he really feels this way. But on the other hand, I know—he and Ibothknow—that we don’t have a future. That there’s no chance of him making me happy for the rest of my life. Not when we’re both standing our ground in refusing to completely change our lives to make something work between us.

“So, please join me in raising a glass to my lovely fiancée,” Ford says, holding up a flute of champagne.

I hadn’t even noticed the catering staff delivering glasses to everyone, including me. There’s a glass on the table in front of me, and I pick it up automatically. Still willing and able to play the part he had asked of me.

As everyone holds out their glass and choruses “cheers!” and “congratulations!”

When I pull my eyes away from Ford and look across the table at my mom, I see that she understands my conflicting emotions. I may be holding it together on the outside, but Mama always knows.

She gives me a warm smile and a little nod of her head. It’s her signal for me to hang in there. To roll with it, just as I had asked her to do with this whole crazy scenario.

And so, I do. I play the part of the love-struck fiancée as Ford and I mingle among the party guests for the rest of the evening, accepting their well wishes and fending off questions about when the wedding will be.

If I didn’t know none of this was true, I’d be just as dazzled by this version of a love story as everyone else is.

32

Ava

When it finally feels reasonable to leave, I tell my mom that I’ll just say my goodbyes to our host and meet her at the front of the house.

I find Senior with my Ford. They’re standing near the ridiculous ice sculpture, deep in conversation.

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