Page 63 of Peaches

Thank you, Grams!

Hell, how do you even come back from something like that?

She pats me on my hand, as if knowing why I’m suddenly so silent, and then begins to walk away.

“Grams,” I call out, turning in my seat at the counter, and waiting for her to look my way. “Would you say you’re completely full of shit, or just a little full of shit?”

I’m not buying it. I can’t. But as my grandmother laughs and shakes her head, I get a sinking suspicion she just may be telling the truth.

“The only one of us that’s ‘full of shit,’ my dear Brettly, is you.”

Wow!

Thanks much!

“It’s hard when you don’t trust yourself.”

Blow number two!

Say what, Grams?

“Or maybe it’s harder when somebody doesn’t trust you.”

Who is she talking about? Me? Or Grace? Because Lord knows that woman drives me crazy, and after the ups and downs we’ve experienced in the short time I’ve known her, (also add in the lies and betrayal we can add to our list of adventures), maybe Gram’s right. Maybe the problem is just that. We just don’t trust each other. And I don’t trust myself without her, case in point for not pushing the breaking up of this ludicrous contract. A deal I’m forced to keep, whether I like it or not.

It suddenly dawns on me that my Pops seems to have really liked making deals, both in business and in his personal life. Can’t say I blame him because it brought him a lot of good fortune and one hell of a woman to spend his life with. Which, I suddenly get a sinking feeling is the reason why I proposed my own bizarre arrangement to Grace. Hell, I did take one look at her and know my life had forever changed. Not in myoffice, in thecoffee shop.

But I walked away then, until fate dealt me another chance and I took it, binding her to me for fear either her, or I, would walk away again. It’s not conventional by any means, but desperate times and all.

Which brings me to my next hurdle. How the hell can you ever fully trust someone when your entire existence together has been based on a lie?

“How’d you know you could trust Pops?” I blurt out, catching myself off guard but not my grandmother. No, she looks at me with her almighty eyes and I feel like a kid who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“The trick isn’t to look for a big sign to answer your question, Brettly,” she responds with more wisdom than I am afraid I know what to do with. “Don’t look for a big gesture to ensure you’re right. Realize you already know the truth, and even more, that you accept it, wholeheartedly. Even if you are as stubborn as your grandfather.”

I let out a slight laugh because hell, that stubbornness is also what sealed every single deal Pops set his sight on. Genetics I proudly inherited, and ones I hope I can use to my advantage, at least where Grace is concerned.

“When you’re both ready, you’ll know,” she says a little suspiciously. “Just as sure as the way you felt the moment you set eyes on her, you’ll know. Now let’s just hope you two get this matter settled before the big day, am I right?”

She gives me a mischievous grin and I feel it again, that sickness in the pit of my stomach as I almost confess every lie I’ve been hiding and lay it at her feet if it means Grace and I have even half the chance and good fortune my grandfather and Grams did.

On that note, she leaves, and I’m left feeling both elated and really horribly defeated at the same time.

I’m thrilled to realize I’m not crazy for the way I feel about Grace. And if what my grandmother told me is really true, I’d say those feelings are mutual because like she said,when you know you know, and I don’t believe that feeling rushes through your veins if it’snotmutual. Call me a slight romantic at heart, just don’t tell Grace, but I don’t.

However, I’m crushed because even though those feelings might possibly be shared with the woman I’m still pretending is my future wife, I know we’re still notthereyet. We’re still not ready to lay all our cards on the table. Not sure who the joke is on at this moment,meorme, (yup, you read that right), because the wires are getting crossed in this game of make-believe the longer I let myself play it, and God, I can’t deny I want her more than I have ever wanted anything in my life!

I know it. She knows it.

At least, I think she does.

I hope she does.

Hell, I really fucking hope she does.

Because to be honest, I’m not used to dealing with rejection. I’m not an asshole, I think I can take it. But to say it wouldn’t gut me, that’d be the biggest lie I’d ever live.

Present lie included.

---