Page 13 of Faking All the Way
Chapter Seven
Kat
The garage door suddenly rumbles open with a grinding mechanical sound that makes both of us jump. Josephine’s husband Mike appears in the doorway, carrying what looks like a giant plastic Santa decoration, complete with a jolly wave and oversized belt buckle.
He stops short when he sees us standing there, clearly not expecting to find anyone in the garage.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, looking embarrassed as he shifts the bulky decoration in his arms. “Didn’t know anyone was out here. Just dropping this off for your parents. They’ve been talking about wanting one of these for the front yard since Halloween.”
“No problem at all,” Asher says, and I feel him step closer to me. His hand settles on my lower back again, that same touch from earlier, and my stomach does this little flip that I’m starting to recognize. The contact reminds me that this isn’t just a one-day performance we’re putting on. I’m planning to be home for a few weeks leading up to Christmas, the longest I’ve been back since I moved away, and clearly Asher is going to be around for along while too. This whole fake relationship thing is going to be our reality for the entire holiday season.
That thought both thrills and scares me.
“Mike!” Josephine’s voice echoes from behind him as she pokes her head into the garage, her hair slightly mussed from wrangling the kids. “Did you get the Santa? Mom and Dad are going to be thrilled. They’ve been dropping hints about it for weeks.”
She notices us standing there and her face brightens. “Oh good, you’re still here. Mike, have you officially met Kat’s boyfriend yet?”
“Not officially,” Mike says, carefully setting down the decoration against the garage wall before extending his hand to Asher. “Mike Watkins. Nice to meet you.”
“Asher Vaughn. Good to meet you too.”
As they shake hands with the kind of firm grip men seem to think is important, I watch Mike and Josephine exchange one of those quick looks that married couples develop over time. Mike raises his eyebrows slightly in what looks like surprise, and Josephine nods back like she’s confirming something. They’ve somehow had an entire conversation about Asher without saying a word.
It’s such a small thing, but it makes something twist in my chest. The easy intimacy of it, the way they can communicate without speaking. It’s exactly the kind of partnership I’ve always wanted but never quite found. I don’t regret leaving Maplewood or chasing my dreams in bigger cities. I really don’t. But watching them together, I can’t help wondering if it’s actually possible to have both the career you want and the person who gets you completely. Josephine seems to have figured out the secret somehow.
“The kids are asking if Daddy brought them anything,” my sister says.
“Maybe,” Mike says, pulling two small candy canes from his jacket pocket. “But only if they’ve been good.”
“They’ll be bouncing off the walls if they have sugar this late,” Josephine protests, but she’s already reaching for the candy with the resignation of someone who knows she’s fighting a losing battle.
“Five minutes of sugar rush, then they’ll crash.” Mike chuckles confidently. “Trust the process.”
Watching them banter, I feel a familiar pang of longing. They make it look so effortless, this whole ‘being a team’ thing.
“Well, we should head inside before Mom starts wondering what happened to us,” I say, grabbing my car keys from the hook by the door.
Back inside the house, Mom is indeed waiting with the focused expression of someone who’s been mentally preparing a list of important questions. She immediately starts steering Asher toward the living room, clearly settling in for what I recognize as her signature get-to-know-the-boyfriend routine.
“So Asher, tell me about your family. Are your parents still living? Any siblings? What do they think about you dating our Kat?”
I can see exactly where this is heading. Twenty questions followed by probing inquiries about his intentions and timeline for major life decisions. We need to escape before our hastily constructed story falls apart under maternal scrutiny.
“Actually, Mom, we should probably get going,” I say, cutting her off before she can launch into question number four. “We need to get settled in at the cabin before it gets completely dark out there.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re staying at Samantha’s place.” Mom turns to Asher with the expression she reserves for explaining Samantha’s life choices to people. “Kat’s friend is a photographer who travels all over the world documenting…well, everything. Right now she’s in Antarctica taking pictures of penguins and glaciers, if you can imagine such a thing.”
“Sounds like an amazing opportunity,” Asher says diplomatically.
“We think she’s completely nuts,” Dad adds from his recliner, shaking his head with fond exasperation. “Last year it was the Amazon rainforest, before that it was some mountain range in Nepal. That girl’s going to end up eaten by a polar bear or something.”
“She knows what she’s doing, Dad,” I say, though I’ve had similar worries about Sam’s more remote assignments.
“If you say so, kiddo. Just seems like a lonely way to live, always moving around with no roots anywhere.”
The comment hits a little too close to home, considering my own nomadic tendencies, but I force a smile and start the round of goodbye hugs.
After another few minutes of promises to see everyone soon and Mom making Asher promise to come back for Christmas dinner, we finally grab our bags and escape outside. The temperature has dropped since we arrived, and there’s a light coating of snow on my Honda Civic that makes it look even more pathetic than usual.
