Page 85 of The Perils of Pretending
The Ashcombes have horrible timing! What was Sadie about to say to Brody? I need answers.
Brody jerks his head in our direction. “Obviously they’re talking. Don’t you converse with your friends sitting like that, Mom?”
“Shut up, Brody.” Sadie scrambles off my lap, taking the blanket with her. She glares at Brody as she heads inside.
My lap immediately gets cold. I want to reach out and pull Sadie back to me. Instead, I stand. “You’re right. It’s a little chilly out. I think I’ll head to bed as well.” I stare Brody down as I walk past him. “Goodnight, everyone.”
Maybe tomorrow I can talk to Sadie when I know we won’t get interrupted.
Chapter 31
Sadie
Ipushinmychair in the dining room, completely stuffed from the smoked salmon, eggs, and pancakes I devoured. I’m really going to miss someone cooking fresh seafood and delicious meals for me all day every day when we leave tomorrow.
“Sadie,” Grandma says, coming up beside me. “I’d like to see you in my room before you leave for your excursion to the spit.”
My muscles stiffen. We’d successfully avoided Dorian and Grandma the past two days. Stupidly, I thought we’d won. “I will, but Max is joining me.”
“I’m not going to bite you,” Grandma says like this is obvious. “He can stand a few minutes of time without your company.”
Max is sitting, finishing the last few bites of his breakfast. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Max, my mom, and Brody.” There’s no way I’m showing up to Grandma’s room by myself. I haven’t seen Dorian yet this morning. Is he hiding in her closet or something?
“I’m done fighting with you. Bring the boy or not, it doesn’t matter to me. Just come up as soon as you can.”
My eyes widen. Grandma’s really giving up without a fight or a crazy amount of insults? Whatever she wants can’t be good if she’s acting this way.
Grandma heads to her room.
“What do you think she wants?”
“It could be any number of things,” Brody says.
Mom puts her napkin on her plate and pushes it away from her. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Max stands. “Let's get this over with.”
Like a woman about to walk the plank, I slog my way up the stairs to room 412. Max stands next to me, Mom and Brody behind me. Raising a fist, I knock on Grandma’s door.
Grandma opens it wide. She stares at the four of us, rolls her eyes, then motions for us to follow her.
Grandma’s suite is bougie. Instead of the cute outdoorsy decorations we have in our cub cabin, her room is black metal, glass, and wooden furniture and light hangings. The rug covering the hardwood floor is plush and feels expensive beneath my feet. We gather in the living room, Max and I on a love seat, Mom on a single chair, Brody on the hearth of the stone fireplace (fire eating away at three logs), and Grandma on the couch. On the coffee table is a glass of lemon water on a coaster, and a few Alaska travel magazines fanned out.
I don’t want to miss visiting the famous saloon, art shops, gift stores, and farmer’s market on the spit in Homer. Whatever this is, Grandma needs to hurry. “Well, I’m here.”
“Dorian?” Grandma calls out.
I squeeze Max’s knee. A pit opens in my stomach. I knew he was here.
Max pries my hand off his leg, threading his fingers through mine.
“Sorry.” I wince.
He strokes my fingers. “If we’re walking around today, I’d prefer not to have bruises.”
“Right.”
Dorian saunters into the room, a smirk on his lips that says he’s won.
