Page 52 of The Love Hoax
A light chuckle. “Got it, Mom.”
I share with Daniel how my short-lived unemployment could lead to an exciting new role on the horizon. I tell him how I love the mountains, the clean air, and the slower pace of life. I share how I'm going to a wedding in Breckenridge, Colorado. He listens intently, asking questions.
We speak for twenty minutes. It's the best call we’ve had in along time. The conversation feels almost like speaking to a contemporary.
It’s weird when kids become adults. And wonderful at the same time.
But he’s still my child. Which is why I never mention that I now go by Ronna, the adoring fiancée of a man he has never met.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Evie
Istifle a yawn as I step into the kitchen, actually looking forward to more time with Anna. The woman is a hoot. After my call with Daniel I fell asleep, waking up rejuvenated. I’m in a great mood, like I slept off all my earlier stress. Nothing like a power nap. And gainful employment.
My hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and my face is refreshingly makeup-free. I’m close to singingA Natural Woman. If only Aretha was here, we could pull off a duet.
Anna sits at the breakfast table, sipping a concoction of what appears to be ibuprofen and tomato juice—a fabled hangover cure. I hope it works; she looks like any sound, even a whisper, might cause her pain.
Adam stands at the kitchen counter, waiting for the bread to pop out of the toaster. He looks absolutely scrumptious.
Seeing me enter, he seems relieved. “Ronna!” he chirps, though his demeanor betrays more weariness than cheerfulness.
I can feel Anna’s eyes on us as Adam walks over and lightly kisses me on the lips. My heart does a somersault. Appearances certainly do rock.
Adam smells of argan oil, a scent I recognize from the resort I abandoned. It reminds me of how my birthday trip with Caroline has gone completely off the rails.
I wonder what the ladies in our Fab Fifty Club would think if they could see me now.
“Anna, how are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a steamroller,” she groans. Then, she adds, “For the record, your future mother-in-law is not an alcoholic. It’s just been a very intense few months.” She looks at Adam. “You know Steph.”
“Yep. She’s like a whirling dervish. You better get out of her way when she’s wound up. And?—”
In unison, mother and son said, “She’s always wound up.”
Adam adds, “You have to hand it to Brad, taking all that on.”
It’s amusing seeing how mother and son describe his sister.
“She can't bethatbad,” I say.
Anna says, “Stephanie is notbad. Just intense.Veryintense.”
Adam explains further. “Good thing Brad is such a chilled out guy. She really lucked out.”
For a fleeting moment, I’m not sure I want to meet this larger-than-life bride or run the other way, back to New York as fast as the airlines can take me.
Adam seems to realize how he and Anna are portraying things because his tone softens. “Steph will be thrilled to meet you. It's going to be the wedding of the year.”
I meet his gaze. Sharing a secret with this man feels intimate and exciting. “I'm still going . . . honey. Don't worry.”
Adam brightens and I can’t tell if it’s in response to my confirmation or the term of endearment. Either way, I’m stoked to have the power to make him smile. He’s relying on me, his partner in crime.
After a snack of bread and jam, Anna stands, looking better by the minute. “Okay, time to hit the road.”
“You’re leaving already?” I ask.
