Page 35 of The Perils of Pretending
Chapter 15
Sadie
Athunderousknockonthe door startles me awake. My eyes fling open and I sit up, immediately hitting my head on the wood panels supporting the bunk above me. “Ouch!” I rub the spot on my forehead. Where am I? What is happening? The knock thumps again. My heart pounds in my chest, fully in fight-or-flight mode. I grab my phone on instinct, ready to dial the police. I look around for a weapon but the best I come up with is my hiking boot. I grab it, ready to hurl it at someone’s head.
The knock comes a third time.
I give myself a little pep talk.You are a strong young woman. Mom and Brody are in the house too. You’ll be okay. Go out swinging to scare the attacker away.I yank open my bedroom door, letting out a war cry while throwing my shoe. “Yaaaaa!”
My boot glides through the air, landing with athunkdown the hallway.
No one’s there.
Where is the noise coming from? I stand there, confused.
Another knock.
A robber wouldn’t announce that they wanted you to answer the door. Someone must need something outside.
“I’m coming!” Mom says, pulling a bathrobe over her shoulders, rushing down the stairs.
I didn’t even think to grab something to cover my pink pajamas. There’s no time to get a robe or sweater either since I want to see who is insistently beating our door down at six-thirty in the morning.
Mom opens the door. Grandma Alice is standing there with a lodge employee. He’s holding three black garment bags, looking bored or tired. Maybe both.
My shoulders sag forward and I let out a small groan. What does Grandma want?
“Good morning, Alice. Is everything okay?” Mom looks past Alice. Probably trying to see if there’s a fire or some other reason why we’re being woken up stupidly early while on vacation.
Without waiting for an invitation, Grandma walks into our cabin. She snaps her fingers, motioning for the guy to follow her inside.
Wow. She couldn’t speak to the employee and kindly ask him to come inside with her? I don’t know why I’m acting surprised by this. It’s who Grandma is.
“Where’s Brody?”
“Asleep.” I fold my arms across my chest, trying to hide that I’m not wearing a bra and my girls are cold from the open door. “Like we should be.”
“You’ll need to wake him. We’re doing family portraits on the lawn behind the lodge at eight. I have your clothes here, ready to go.”
Mom’s eyebrows form a deep-V. “Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner? We would have brought suitable clothing and been ready on time if we knew.”
Grandma shrugs. “A stylist chose everyone’s clothes, and I thought I had told you about it.”
B.S.
Grandma is lying right through her dental implants. She just didn’t want to tell us. There’s no way she forgot. But why? Did she think we wouldn’t know how to dress appropriately for family photos?
Grandma takes the first garment bag from the employee and hands it to Mom. “This one is yours.”
Mom glances at me, looking nervous to unzip the bag.
I don’t blame her. Grandma’s pantsuits are nowhere near any of our styles. I don’t want to look like a mini version of her. As a real estate agent, Mom wears nice clothes often when she’s showing homes or closing on a sale. We can look put together when the need arises.
Slowly, Mom opens the bag. Hanging inside is a nude silk wrap dress with a tie at the waist. The sleeves are fluttery and feminine. All things considered, it’s not bad.
The man hands Grandma the next bag. Grandma passes it to me. “I had to guess your size since you didn’t respond to the email I sent.”
Did Grandma actually send one, or is she claiming she did, like she says she told us about the picture?
