Page 73 of Faking the Pass
He gestured toward a vine-covered pergola across the lawn near the water. Long streamers of gauzy white material had beenwoven through the grapevines and blew in the breeze, dancing above and around the elegant white structure like festive flags.
Beneath it was a long table set for fine dining, and two black-clad waiters stood to one side of it, waiting for our party’s arrival.
Ahead of us, the string quartet was hustling in that direction, presumably so they could get in place to serenade us during the elegant al fresco post-wedding meal.
“If you’re worried about feeling awkward around my family, don’t be,” Presley said. “You already know Jess. The rest of them are easy to get along with, too. And if you couldn’t tell already, they’re more than ready to love and accept you.”
“That’swhat worries me,” I muttered under my breath.
“You don’t want them to accept you?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “I just… it feels like I’m lying to them. I feel guilty.”
And the thought of belonging to a family like this one filled me with a yearning so powerful I felt it at a cellular level.
There had only ever been my mom and me. My dad had never been in the picture. She’d said he wasn’t interested in fatherhood and that we were better off without him, just the two of us.
In spite of that, I’d fantasized throughout my childhood about big family gatherings dripping with cousins to play with and aunts and uncles and grandparents to dote on me.
I’d had a lot of time to think about it, and I’d concluded that one of the reasons I’d fallen so easily for Randy’s deception was probably that he’d claimed to want a big family, tapping into that secret longing I’d harbored all my life.
I suspected most people with brothers and sisters had no idea how lucky they were. I’d never wished for siblings more than I had during the past few months, since my mom had been gone.
Presley’s hand came up to my bare shoulder, rubbing the tension at the juncture of my neck.
“Don’t feel guilty. Just think of it as a party,” he said. “My family’s having a great time. You should, too.”
I tried to follow his lead and relax. The copious wine poured by the attentive waiters helped. So did the incredible sea breeze and the endless views of blue skies and deeper blue water visible from our table.
Seagulls soared on the breeze overhead. White sails dotted the water between the shoreline and the Eastport Bay Bridge in the distance.
As the sun began to set, the suspension bridge’s lights blinked on and reflected in the water below.
There were lights strung throughout the vines atop the pergola as well, and when they came on, the setting took on the ambience of an enchanted feast in a magical Fae realm.
Though I was determined to maintain some safe emotional distance, Iwashaving a good time.
It was impossible to be depressed in the company of the Lowe clan.
Mr. Lowe’s dad jokes were actually funny, and his mom reminded me of my own—warm and caring and fiercely on the side of the people she considered to be “hers.”
Apparently that included me now.
“I never liked Randy Ryland all that much,” she said, wrinkling her nose and leaning close as if sharing a secret in confidence.
“When I think of you paired with that vain little peacock…” She shook her head and pulled a comical expression.
The motion jiggled her wine glass, and a little sloshed out onto the white tablecloth. A server rushed forward to dab the spot with a cloth napkin then topped off her glass.
“Thank you,” she said to him then turned back to me. “As I was saying, there was no way you were going to be happy with a man like that. You dodged a bullet, sweetheart. And now…”
Smiling, she lifted both hands and twisted, making a gesture that encompassed the whole of this idyllic family event.
“Now you’re exactly where you belong. It’s funny how life has a way of working itself out, isn’t it?”
She was so happy, I didn’t have the heart to disagree.
“It is.”
