Page 60 of Things We Fake
“For normal people, maybe. You’ve never met my family.”
He grinned. “Come on, how bad could it be?”
“ThinkMy Big Fat Greek Wedding, only Italian and louder.” I took a breath so deep my lungs felt like they would explode. “Okay, let’s do this thing.”
I tapped the video call button on my tablet. The screen filled with static before stabilizing on my mom’s overly close face. She adjusted the camera, squinting at the screen.
“Susanne!” Mom’s usually composed voice was several octaves higher. “We were just about to call you. We saw the newspaper. You have some explaining to do, daughter mine.”
“Come on, Mom, you’re going to scare her off.” The camera shifted wildly as my brother took the tablet, his hair standing on end, the lower half of his face covered in shaving cream. Thanks to Dad’s genes, Paul had to shave twice a day to keep from looking like an Italian version of Cousin It.
“Sue! You really did it, huh? Neil’s losing his mind.” Paul laughed. “Michelle saw Sally the other day. Man, is she bitter. She’s hired some hot shot divorce lawyer to take him to the cleaners. She caught him doing the nasty with Sandy Parsons in her own bed. As mad as Sally is, he’s lucky she didn’t cut off hiscazzoand shove it down his throat.”
“Paul,” my mother spoke loudly. “Don’t be crude.”
“If I caught you like that, Paul, you’d be eating yours for breakfast,” Michelle said, her pregnant belly coming into view moments before her face did.
My cheeks burned as I rolled my eyes to look at Cam. I wondered if he’d realized that my crazy family had been talking for minutes without even allowing me to open my mouth.
“Hello everyone,” I said on a sigh. “Before this gets any weirder, I’d like you to meet Cameron Jones. My fiancé.”
Mom and Michelle squealed when I turned the tablet to put Cam in the frame.
Paul whooped. “Hey, Dad! Come over here, we’re talking to your future son-in-law.”
From somewhere in the background, my father’s deep, gravelly voice boomed.
“Hold on, I’m coming! Don’t hog the screen, Paolo.”
Paul ignored him, grinning and staring openly at Cam. “So this is the guy, huh? Not bad, Sue. Make sure you hold on to this one.”
“He’s not my hostage, Paul,” I replied dryly.
“Paul, give me that.” Mom took the tablet and leaned closer to the camera. “Cam, it’s so nice to meet you.” She turned to Paul and I heard her whisper, “I won the bet fair and square. You have to change my tires.”
Leave it to my family to bet on my happiness. Nothing was sacred to them. I buried my face in my hands, but even that small gesture triggered another round of madness.
“Oh my God. Susanne, show us the ring!”
Cam smiled at Mom and reached for my hand. He lifted it into the frame, the sapphire and diamonds sparkling under the light.
“Dio mio!” Mom clutched her chest, her face more animated than I’d ever seen it. “How beautiful! Where did you get it?”
“Tiffany’s,” Cam answered, his tone as smooth as the espresso Dad brewed every morning.
Michelle’s face popped into view. “Tiffany’s? Sue, if I wasn’t as big as a house, I’d make you take me there next week. I need a little sparkle in my life.”
“Good luck,” Paul said off-camera. “Once the baby comes, all your sparkle will be from spit-up and drool.”
Michelle ignored her husband. “Cam, did you pick out the ring yourself?”
Cam nodded, his expression earnest. “We selected it together. I wanted something that reflected how special Sue is. The sapphire reminded me of her—beautiful, unique, and classy.”
My mother beamed. “You hear that, Susanne? He knows how to treat a woman.”
My father finally appeared on the screen, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed and his flannel shirt practically screaming countryside.
“This the guy?” he asked, squinting at the camera.
