Page 58 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
“Hi, honey,” my dad says.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just nod and shoot a panicked glance over his shoulder toward Ginny.
Susan wraps me in her arms the minute my dad releases me. She’s been our stepmother for more than two decades, so she’s not much more likely than our father is to fall for our switcheroo. She isn’t my real mother, but she’s the next best thing. She sat beside my dad in the stands and cheered for me when I graduated from both high school and college. She covered all the kitchen shelves in my first real apartment with scented contact paper. She took me shopping for my wedding gown. Two months later, she held me as I cried when I told her and Dad that the wedding had been called off.
So the odds that she won’t recognize me are slim at best.
But when she pulls back from our embrace and plants her hands on my shoulders to take a good look at me, Susan doesn’t flinch.
“Oh, Ginny. You lookbeautiful, sweetheart. Look at her, Ed. Isn’t she just gorgeous?” Her gaze flits to my dad, who nods in his quiet dadlike way, and then back toward me. “And look at that tiara! What a sparkler. You’ve won something already!”
She bustles toward the bed and gives the space at the foot of it a little pat. “Sit down and tell us all about it.”
Obediently, I follow her and sit down on the bed. Before I say anything to confirm the fact that I’m supposed to be Ginny, I search my sister’s gaze.
Now is the time to come clean and tell our parents what we’ve done. They’re sure to be disappointed. Actually, that’s probably an understatement. They’re going to be pissed.
We weren’t raised to be liars, especially when it comes to the whole twin thing. I have a very clear memory of being grounded for writing Ginny’s English lit final paper when we were seniors in high school. And isn’t what we’re doing now essentially the exact same thing?
It is. I know it is. So does Ginny, although from the looks of things she has no qualms about keeping the charade going.
“Wow.” Ginny crosses her arms and stares at my crown. In her rush to usher me inside and get me up to speed with the most recent development in our deception, she’d clearly overlooked it. “That is definitely a tiara.”
Her gaze darts to the photo on her nightstand—the one of our mother. Ginny’s chin wobbles, then she looks back at me.
“Actually...,” I begin.
Actually, I’m not Ginny. I’m Charlotte.
I’m doing it.
I’m ending this farce once and for all. We can’t lie to our parents. So far, I haven’t actually claimed to be Ginny in their presence. It’s not too late.
But the words stick in my throat, because even though I haven’t dragged Dad and Susan into our pageant hoax yet, Ginny obviously has. How long have our parents been here?
Minutes?
Hours?
She gives me an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
The deed is done. They think she’s me.
“Actually...,” I say again, stalling for time. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. Switching places in the pageant is one thing. Doing so in front of our parents is another matter entirely. Lindsay Lohan was twelve years old when she played identical twins who switched places inThe Parent Trap. We’readults, for crying out loud. “Yes, it’s a tiara. I won the talent competition this afternoon.”
“That’s fantastic,” Susan says, clapping her hands.
Dad beams. He hasn’t looked at me with this much pride since I showed him the magna cum laude insignia on my college degree.Seriously?
“Wonderful, Ginny. Just wonderful,” he says.
I nod and smile.Yes, it’s wonderful. And yes, I’m Ginny.
It’s official. I’m the world’s worst daughter. I glance at my sister. Fine, it’s a tie. We’ll share the title, even though it’s a far cry from the crown we’ve been chasing for the past few days.
“You’re kidding, right?” Ginny’s gaze narrows. “Youwon? As in, you had the highest score out of all fifty contestants?”
“That’s generally what winning means,” I say tightly.
