Page 72 of Faking It Right
I struggled to wrap my mind around the absurdity. “You can’t seriously believe?—”
“Tell us more about your past lives together,” Sawyer interrupted, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she scooped up more mashed potatoes. “Any bizarre ones?”
Maylin took a moment to consider. “Well, there was that brief stint as competing court jesters for King Henry VIII. We attempted to one-up each other with dangerous acrobatic stunts. You met your demise trying to juggle flaming swords while balancing on a horse. I followed shortly after when I honored your memory by completing the stunt and accidentally set the queen’s dress on fire.”
Gia snorted into her napkin. “That’s quite the way to go.”
Maylin warmed to the topic. “It wasn’t as dramatic as when we were rival pirates in the Caribbean. Ryker captained the fearsome Black Serpent, while I commanded the illustrious Crimson Lady. We would chase one another across the seven seas, boarding each other’s ships for passionate encounters before resuming our rivalry. You perished attempting to impress me by swinging from your ship to mine on a rope, only to miss and plunge into shark-infested waters.”
“Of course I did,” I muttered, pushing my roasted chicken around my plate. My appetite had disappeared, replaced by a growing sense of unreality.
“I bet you really plundered her booty,” Harley teased. A fresh wave of chaos broke over the table as Sawyer snorted into her napkin. Maylin’s mouth pressed into a disapproving line. “What about your current life? How did you recognize Ryker this time?”
“Oh, I always find him,” Maylin replied with unwavering confidence. “I’ve been tracking his soul signature since I was a child. When Jacinta mentioned Ryker needed a date, I knew it was time to rendezvous with my star-crossed lover. Our souls are cosmically entangled, you see.”
“That’s so romantic,” my mother sighed.
I shot her a betrayed look. “Mom, you can’t be serious.”
“What? I think it’s lovely.” She turned back to Maylin as she resumed eating. “So, what happens now that you’ve found each other again?”
Maylin smiled. “Usually, we fall madly in love, indulge in some intense passion, have children, and then at least one of us dies tragically. It’s our pattern.”
“That sounds terrible,” I said, finally finding my voice. I set down my fork beside my barely touched dinner, giving up any pretense of eating in my growing distress.
“Oh, it’s not so bad. The deaths tend to be quite spectacular.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve been consulting my spiritual advisor to break the cycle this time. I have high hopes we can make it through this lifetime without any fatal accidents.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Harley said, his voice thick with suppressed amusement as he took another bite of chicken.
“Well, we don’t want a repeat of our Victorian era when you tripped over a loose floorboard and fatally impaled yourself. It was quite the unfortunate turn of events. I broke my neck after a dramatic tumble down the stairs. Admittedly, that was one of our more inglorious endings. But if the stairs hadn’t done me in, the green arsenic dye in my dresses would’ve finished the job.”
For once, I was at a complete loss for words as the table erupted into giggles. Dad continued eating his potatoes, seemingly determined to finish his dinner despite the bizarre conversation.
Maylin frowned, narrowing her eyes as she glanced between Harley and me. It was as if someone had flipped a switch, transforming her from dreamy reminiscence to suspicious scrutiny in an instant.
“You’ve been gay in two hundred and twelve lifetimes, though,” she accused, glaring at Harley with a fork poised like a weapon over her plate. “Like when you were the pharaoh’s favorite scribe in Ancient Egypt and had that passionate affair with the royal guard. Or during Renaissance Italy, when you and that insufferable painter who stole all your commissions were secret lovers. And let’s not forget Edwardian England, when your scandalous poetry about forbidden male desire shocked society.” She ticked them off on her fingers as if reading from a cosmic ledger.
The table fell silent. Even the clinking cutlery paused as everyone watched the unexpected showdown. Mom looked between us with wide eyes, while Dad seemed to contemplate whether he could excuse himself to check on something in the garage. Sawyer and Gia froze mid-bite, their expressions a mix of fascination and barely contained amusement.
Maylin fixed me with an intense stare that made me want to slide under the table. “Is that true in this lifetime, too?”
The question hung in the air like a cartoon anvil poised to drop, and suddenly, all eyes were on me, waiting for my response. My throat went dry. Technically, I didn’t identify as gay, but I couldn’t deny what was happening between us now.
Under the table, I grasped for Harley’s hand, our fingers weaving together. His palm radiated steady and reassuring warmth. The simple contact gave me the courage I needed.
“Yes, Harley’s my boyfriend,” I confirmed. It wasn’t a declaration of my sexuality, but it was close enough to the truth without the label. Plus, it was the one thing I was certain about in this surreal dinner from hell.
Maylin threw her hands up, nearly knocking over her water glass. “Seventeen times in a row? Really?” Her voice rose in pitch with each word. “Do you have any idea how statistically improbable that is? The cosmic odds are astronomical!”
She launched into an impassioned tirade, her half-eaten dinner forgotten. “Is this because I accidentally fed your favorite pet goat to that visiting diplomat in our Byzantine life? Is that what caused this?” Her eyes widened with righteous indignation. “The oracle warned me there would be far-reaching consequences, but I never expected it to last into this lifetime!”
“You’d know better than me,” I replied dryly, squeezing Harley’s hand under the table.
Maylin finished her roll, brushing crumbs from her outfit with delicate fingers. The methodical way she cleaned herself reminded me of a cat’s precise and focused grooming. When she looked up, her expression had shifted from indignation to resignation.
“In that case, I won’t waste any more of your time,” she announced, folding her napkin with a crispness that matched her buttoned-up personality. “Clearly, the cosmic forces are conspiring against us once again.”
The table fell into an awkward silence as we all watched her prepare for her grand exit.
