Page 125 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Oh, hey Eden,” Ellery said, sounding not nearly as urgently excited as she should have in Eden’s opinion.
“Help me fix this,” Eden pleaded.
“Gosh, Eden. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. Maybe you were right, and you two just aren’t a good match? You should probably trust your gut.”
“Ellery! We’re a great match! We’re perfect for each other. Or at least we will be as soon as I let go of the past and face the fact that I was totally wrong about him. I was wrong about everything. Help me!”
“Oh, Eden. I have to go. Mason needs something. We’ll talk tonight at the dance,” Ellery said cheerfully.
Eden stared at her phone. “I’m not going to the dance,” she said to no one.
Sammy gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Sorry, slugger.”
“Well, well. If it isn’t the latest generation of Moody riff-raff.” Tilly Nuswing-Gates needed to work on her insults. She wore head-to-toe ivory, most likely special organic ringspun cotton. Her naturally graying hair was swept back from her pinched face in a classy twist. She looked exactly the way a wealthy, gracefully aging hippie with environmental leanings should look.
It was muffled by her scarf, but Eden thought she heard Sammy hiss.
“Mrs. Gates, I didn’t know you were back in town. Davis hadn’t mentioned that you would be back in time for HeHa.”
“I’m sure there are a lot of things my son doesn’t tell you,” she said coolly. “Also, we didn’t tell him we were coming.”
In Blue Moon, even the villains weren’t good at being bad.
“That could be a factor,” Eden said carefully.
“My ex-husband is, as we speak, talking sense into our son. Which is what I’m doing with you. You and Davis do not belong together. The day your grandfather ran over my great-uncle’s foot at the tractor pull put this all in motion. Our families are destined to be enemies.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Eden said lamely. She wasn’t prepared for a throw down with Tilly Nuswing-Gates. Not when she was already beating herself up.
“Well, I’m not sorry you’re sorry,” Tilly said primly.
“Wait, is that really what started it? I heard your mother locked my great-aunt in a pantry during a Christmas party.”
Tilly scoffed. “That was in retaliation for your grandparents walking your screaming toddler aunt past their open windows every night at two a.m.
Eden vaguely remembered a story to that effect. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” Eden pressed.
“I am not going to bury the hatchet just so you can take advantage of my poor, sweet, kind-hearted, innocent son.”
“Davis is an adult. And so am I. And if we choose to be together, there’s nothing you can do about it.” There was nothingtodo about it. She’d already made the choice: a life without Davis.
“Over my dead body and possibly your father’s since he can’t survive without me!” Eden’s mother was hauling ass down the sidewalk, her cheeks flushed pink with cold… or rage. “You and that, that, that…heathenare not to spend one more second of time together.”
“We’ve spent a lot of time together. Naked. In your house.” Eden said, stabbing her mother’s buttons and hitting a few of her own in the process.
Lily Ann’s gasp of betrayal nearly leveled her. Ned held her up, fanning her face. “I can’t go back in that house,” she shrieked dramatically.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll just move. We’ll move away from the bad mojo.”
“Why don’t you just have your daughter burn it down?” Tilly suggested smugly.
“Don’t you tell my parents what to do,” Eden said, waving a gloved finger at the woman.
“You and Davis donotbelong together!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Lily Ann shouted.
“See? Look at you two getting along,” Sammy said cheerfully. “The feud is practically over. Yay.”
