Page 42 of The Fine Art of Faking It
Hell. Eden had hoped—futilely—that her parents had missed the news.
“Mom, what was I supposed to do?” She finally wrestled a baggy of lavender out of the depths of the pantry.
“Well, first of all, you shouldn’t have tried to burn the man’s house down again,” her father chastised.
“Dad! I had nothing to do with the fire!”
“That’s what you said last time,” her mother pointed out.
Ned scooped up an egg and dropped it on a piece of bread.
“Extra cheese on mine, darling,” Lilly Ann said.
“Anything for you, buttercup.”
“What were we talking about again? Oh, yes! I won’t stand for my daughter opening her home to a Gates.” Her mother said “Gates” as if it were a synonym for a murderer who had just punched a baby and told her mother to get back in the kitchen where she belonged.
“It’s just temporary, Mom. And if it makes you feel any better, I hate having him there.”
“That, that, that…very badperson,” her mother, who was terrible with insults, began, “swapped out our organic weed control spray with a non-organic formula and then told everyone they were eating toxins when we brought spinach and black bean brownies to the bake sale!”
“That was actually Davis’s father,” Eden pointed out.
“What about the time we drove all the way to Cleary for Christmas shopping and were circling the shopping center parking lot for a space, and Davis refused to back out of his space foran houruntil someone called mall security?” Eden’s father asked, wielding the spatula like a weapon.
Eden rolled her eyes. “That wasyouin the parking space and Davis’s grandma waiting foryouto back out.”
Her parents shared a frown. “Oh, yeah. I guess it was,” Ned said.
Lilly Ann giggled. “That was funny. She was hanging out of her sunroof, honking with her foot and giving everyone the middle finger.”
Ned snapped his fingers. “A ha! Davis Gates broke my little girl’s heart when he stood her up for the HeHa Dance!”
“Awh, dad—”
“I’ll never forget the look on Atlantis’s face when she came home that night. Devastation.” He shook his head in fatherly regret.
“That wasme!Not Atlantis!” Eden groused.
“Are you sure?” Ned asked with a frown.
“I’m positive!”
“Then why are you letting him stay with you? He should just set up camp in a cardboard refrigerator box and panhandle for scraps,” her mother said with a decisive nod.
Eden’s watch buzzed. “Shoot! I have to go. I have guests coming in.” She swooped in and pressed quick kisses to her parents’ cheeks. “I’ll call you later,” she promised.
“Still mad at you,” Lilly Ann called after her. “Love you!”
Eden made it back to the inn with minutes to spare. She wrestled the flowers and gift bag out of her backseat and hightailed it in the backdoor. “Please don’t be early. Please don’t be early,” she chanted through the kitchen.
“Are they here yet?” she hissed, poking her head out into the lobby.
“Who?” Sunny blinked.
Eden gritted her teeth. “The last-minute guests I told you about.”
“Oh, them. Not yet.” Sunny went back to bopping to a beat that only she could hear.
