Page 3 of The Perils of Pretending
Have “the” talk
I hate that I’ll never know what item number sixteen is about. I don’t know if he meant the birds and the bees, dating advice, something about choices and consequences, my future career, or something else entirely. Whenever I ask Brody what he and Dad talked about on his sixteenth birthday trip, all he says is that it is between him and Dad.
I want to be angry at Brody for keeping it a secret, but Dad always had such a unique relationship with each of us that whatever he said to Brody most likely wouldn’t apply to me. Too bad I don’t have a magic mirror to conjure up Dad or a way to find out what he would have told me.
“Mom, remind me again why we care so much about keeping in contact with Dad’s family?”
Mom sighs. “Believe it or not, I enjoy being around Alice. Yes, she’s demanding, but she’s also incredibly intelligent and her dry sense of humor makes me laugh. And she paid for Dad’s funeral, leaving me more in his life insurance policy to pay off the house. I won’t ever forget hergenerosity. She’s harder on you kids than I like, but we don’t see her often. And she’s the only living immediate family left of your father’s. You know how I feel about family. Alice is ours and Dad would want us to have a relationship with her even if she thinks she knows what’s best for us. We can handle ten days with her.”
When she puts it that way, my heart softens the slightest toward Grandma. “Well, I better finish packing then. I’ll see you soon.”
“We’re going to be fine, sweetie.”
Will we though? “Bye, Mom.”
“Bye.”
Ugh. I don’t like how conflicted I am about this whole thing. I love that I have this opportunity to connect with Dad, but I also do not want to deal with his family.
I mutter to myself as I keep packing. “Who even plans a family reunion for ten days? TheAshcombes,that’s who.” I throw the jacket in with way too much force. “They want to torture us by not only making us spend an entire day traveling to wheretheyare, but forcing us to stay for ten freaking-long days. Why can’t it be a weekend like normal families?”
People think I’m lying when I say family reunions with my dad’s side are the absolute worst, but I’m not. It’s this reunion every other summer that tempts me to become a drinker. Which is why I’m kicking myself for getting trapped by my own stupidity.
Now, if we were spending time with Mom’s family? I’d pack my bags days in advance, counting down the minutes until we got together. All the girl cousins are like sisters to me and we laugh the entire time we’re together. Whereas with the Ashcombes (or Buttcombes, as I affectionately call them), it’s like being stung by a jellyfish. The burn of being in their presence lingers far too long after we’ve parted.
It’s not even the way they look down on me and my siblings that bugs me the most. It’s the matchmaking. Grandma and her sisters think they know better than I do who I should spend the rest of my life with.
I’m tempted to hire a fiancé—as in I’ve already googled how to pay someone to pretend to be my date for the trip—but that felt embarrassingly desperate and I deleted the search history. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know that with my luck, I’d end up dead in a ditch somewhere rather than find my soulmate like inThe Wedding Date. But my distress is real. I haven’t even had time to really date a lot on my own. Building my own freelance editing business has taken all my energy. I’m finally feeling stable enough to try dating, but I don’t want Grandma’s help with it.
I sing along to “Carry Me Home” by Alex Warren, praying the good vibes of the music will wash away the dread coating my stomach. My limbs are heavy and stiff as I yank a shirt off the hanger in my small closet. The effort of packing is zapping all my energy. My suitcase isn’t organized in cubes. Things are rolled to prevent wrinkles, but there is no method, just absolute madness. The chaos matches how I feel.
Why is focusing on the good part of this trip so hard?
A ping interrupts the song. Snatching my cell from my nightstand, I read the text from my sister.
Poppy
Don’t forget to stop by before boarding your flight. I have something for you.
It had better be chocolate. Poppy believes every ailment in life can be healed holistically. This time a gemstone isn’t going to fix that I have to spend time with the Buttcombes.
Plopping onto the edge of my bed, I type out a message of my own.
If you came with me, sis, you could give it to me on the flight. [winky face emoji]
Poppy
For the hundredth time, I couldn’t get off work—for TEN days! Besides, I refuse to let the bad energy from that family interferewith my aura. I’m in a good place and want to keep it that way.
Her aura is fine. I’m the one who needs her. She helps me keep my tongue in check around the aunties. I have a tendency to defend myself and won’t stop until they understand things from my point of view. Which will never happen, but for some reason I think if I keep talking, they’ll eventually come around.
Without Poppy there to remind me it isn’t worth engaging with them, I’m not sure how I’m going to survive. Especially since Grandma said she invited Dorian—a surgeon she wants me to marry. The man isnotfor me, simply because Grandma chose him, but Grandma doesn’t seem to care what I think.
I know. I’ll stop by. My gift better be good to make up for your absence. I’m going to miss you so much! You should be there to help with my bucket list.
Poppy
