by Jae
“Thank you.”
They looked at each other for a while, then Claire remembered that she still needed to pick up the steak for Lana. “I’d better go.”
Abby accompanied her to the door.
Claire hesitated, unsure how to say goodbye. Finally, she lifted her hand in a wave. “Happy Fourth of July.”
“Happy Fourth to you too,” Abby said, one hand stuffed into her apron pocket.
Claire turned and walked toward her car.
Halfway there, she passed a blue-haired woman in her late twenties, who was heading toward Abby’s house.
They threw curious looks at each other but walked on.
Could this be Abby’s new girlfriend, the woman with the many grandpas and grandmas?
Claire climbed behind the wheel and chuckled as she stared toward the house, where both Abby and the blue-haired woman had now disappeared. Looks like we’re now both with a woman who’s not our usual type.
Then she froze with the key halfway to the ignition. Christ. You’re supposed to make other people believe it’s real, not yourself! Shaking her head at herself, she started the car and went in search of the juiciest steak in Los Angeles.
Chapter 20
Lana hadn’t expected to see Claire’s family a second time, but here she was. Had it really been only a week since she’d first met them? She couldn’t believe how much had changed in those seven days.
Back then, walking into the house holding Claire’s hand hadn’t been a big deal. Strangely, little intimate gestures like that were getting harder instead of easier. The touch of Claire’s hand against hers made her tingle all over, reminding her that while their relationship was fake, her feelings no longer were.
She was almost glad when Claire let go to hug her parents.
“Congratulations on your book deal, honey!” Claire’s mother embraced her, while her father patted her back and added, “We’re so proud of you.”
Claire visibly glowed under their praise.
Then the Renshaws turned toward Lana and greeted her with a warmth that made her feel guilty. Would they be sad when Claire told them they had broken up?
“Stephanie is outside, womanning the barbecue, as she insists on calling it.” Her mother nudged Claire. “Go say hello to your sister while Lana gives me a hand in the kitchen.”
Claire eyed her with a wrinkle between her brows. “Is this going to become a habit? You stealing Lana from my side as soon as we arrive?” Then she pressed her lips together and fell silent, probably because she had remembered that this would be the last time they would visit her parents together.
“It’s a distinct possibility,” Claire’s mother answered with a smile. She hooked her arm through Lana’s and drew her toward the kitchen.
Lana was a little afraid of what kind of vegan health food she’d find there, but she couldn’t help being touched by the way Diane treated her. Her own mother had struggled to accept Lana’s sexual orientation and had never welcomed any of her girlfriends with open arms.
Bowls of spinach salad and kale salad sat on the kitchen counter, with the dressing already poured over them, ready to be served.
Lana turned toward Diane. “What did you need help with?”
“Nothing. To be honest, I just wanted a moment alone with you.”
Lana gulped.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Diane chuckled. “I thought about our conversation a lot since the last time we saw each other, and I think I owe you an apology.”
“Uh, an apology?” Diane wasn’t talking about the food she’d served her, was she?
“I still think you and Claire are moving a little fast, but Stephanie pointed out that I was acting like my own mother did when James asked my parents for my hand in marriage.” A sad smile flickered across Diane’s face. “They thought he was a no-good hippie out for my money and wanted me to marry someone more respectable.”
James had been a hippie? Lana couldn’t see it.
“That couldn’t have been further from the truth,” Diane continued. “James and I had something very special from the start. When I just watched you and Claire get out of the car and walk up to the house… It seems there’s something special between the two of you too. I’ve never seen Claire hold on to anyone’s hand the way she clung to yours—as if she never wants to let go. I can tell she really loves you and that you love her too.”
A lump lodged in Lana’s throat, making it impossible to get out even a single word, even if she had known what to say.
“So if you really want to propose to my daughter, I’m not going to stand in your way.”
Lana gaped at her. Claire’s mother was giving them their blessing. If only she knew they were about to break up. Jeez. You aren’t about to break up! You were never really a couple in the first place.
“Um, I…” Lana cleared her throat but couldn’t get rid of the lump. “Um, thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to thank me or say anything.”
Claire appeared in the doorway and looked from her mother to Lana. “Thank you for what?”
Diane shared a conspiratorial look with Lana. “For the food.”
“Are you done interrogating Lana?” Claire asked. “Steph says the eggplant will get bitter if we don’t eat soon.”
Lana took the bowl of kale salad and went to her.
Claire wrapped her arm around her seemingly without much thought.
It felt so natural that Lana had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real. Or was it? She didn’t pull away as Claire guided her outside, where a long table had been set up beneath the pergola.
“Hey, Lana. Happy Fourth,” Steph called from the gas grill, where she was turning the steaks, while her father kept an eye on the vegetables and burgers that were probably made of tofu.
“Hi, Steph,” Lana answered. “Happy Fourth of July.”
Claire pulled out a chair for her and took a seat next to her. “What did my mother say to you?” she whispered close to Lana’s ear.
The feeling of her breath brushing Lana’s ear never failed to send goose bumps all over her body. She had to consciously focus on the words before she could whisper back, “She gave her blessing for me to propose to you.”
“What?” Claire hit her knee on the table and then bent over, clutching it with a moan.
Instinctively, Lana reached out and touched it to soothe the pain.
“Hey, you two lovebirds,” Steph called. “Leave the rubbing and moaning for at home.”
“Stephanie!” Their father threatened her with a pair of barbecue tongs.
Lana snatched her hand away from Claire’s knee. God, it would be a long day. Instead of reminding herself to touch Claire to make everyone believe they were a couple, she’d have to focus on not touching her too much, no matter how drawn she felt to her.
That’s what you get for lying. Karma was a bitch.
Claire carried the leftover grilled Brussels sprouts and the eggplant—which had indeed gone bitter—into the kitchen.
Her sister was at the sink, rinsing the plates.
Claire fell into the familiar routine they’d shared as teenagers and took each plate from her to put it into the dishwasher.
“Thanks for committing a sacrilege and bringing a steak for me too.” Steph flashed a grin. “I have to say I really like our family dinners better since you’re with Lana. Finally some real food!”
Apparently, their parents liked family dinners with Lana too—they were outside by the pool, showing her photos from their last trip to Europe. Truth be told, Claire was a little disgruntled at how much they monopolized Lana’s attention. But, of course, they couldn’t know that this was Claire’s last evening with Lana and that she longed to be alone with her.
To do what? Hold hands? Kiss? If you were alone with her, you w
ouldn’t do any of that. The irony of the situation was driving her mad.
When Claire didn’t react to her comment, Steph turned, leaned against the sink, and studied her. “What’s up with you?”
“I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“About?”
Claire hesitated. She’d never really shared her thoughts with Steph since she had always considered her the annoying kid sister. Besides, Steph never seemed to take anything seriously.
But now she wasn’t grinning or making jokes, as if sensing that something serious was going on.
Claire sighed. “Have you ever slept with someone you shouldn’t have?”
A short laugh escaped Steph. “Hello? Remember who you’re talking to. There were times when sleeping with people I shouldn’t have was practically a hobby of mine.” She sobered and squinted at Claire. “Wait a minute! You’re not really talking about me, are you? Man, don’t tell me you cheated on Lana!”
“What? No! I’d never… I mean… Argh!” How could she explain this without revealing what was really going on? She was tempted to just tell Steph to forget about it, but she needed to talk to someone, or she’d go crazy, and maybe Steph was the right person for that. After all, with all the shit she had done in her life, she wasn’t in a position to judge her, unlike their parents or Renata.
She glanced toward the doorway to make sure her parents and Lana were still outside. “This has to stay between you and me, okay?”
Steph arched her eyebrows. “You’re keeping secrets? You?”
“You’ve got no idea.” Claire did a breathing exercise to gather her courage but still couldn’t say it. She had always been the perfect sister that her parents had held up to Steph as a role model, and it was hard to give up that position. Apparently, keeping up the facade of having a perfect life had become too important to her. Yeah, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place, remember?
“Come on.” Steph waved her hand toward herself. “Out with it. It can’t be worse than some of the stunts I’ve pulled.”
Claire wasn’t so sure about that. “Lana told you how we first met, right?”
“Yep. She ran you over with her roller skates. Pretty cute story.”
“Yeah, but that’s all it is—a story. We didn’t actually meet like that.”
Steph’s forehead wrinkled. “You didn’t? Why would you make that up?” She chuckled. “Don’t tell me you met on some adult hookup site or something.”
“No!” Although that might have been less embarrassing than what she was about to confess. “We… She… I hired her to pretend to be my fiancée so Wishing Tree wouldn’t reconsider the book deal,” she finally blurted out.
The dish towel Steph had held dropped to the floor. “You’re shitting me.”
Claire picked it up just so she didn’t need to look into her sister’s face. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Steph opened and closed her mouth several times like a ventriloquist’s dummy. “So she’s…what? Some chick from an escort service?”
“Watch your mouth!” Claire glared at her sister, ready to shake her should she say anything disparaging about Lana. “She’s an actress.”
“And apparently a pretty good one,” Steph muttered. “God knows she had me fooled. And so did you.” She eyed Claire for a while, then the tiny wrinkles on her forehead smoothed and she grinned. “Oh, now I get it! She’s the woman you slept with, isn’t she? You’re not faking. You really are head over heels for her.”
“Sssh, not so loud!” Claire looked around again. “Yes, I made…slept with her, but I’m not head over—”
“Oh, come on. Admit it.” Steph grabbed the dish towel from her and flicked it in Claire’s direction. “The only thing you’re faking is that you don’t feel anything for her.”
Claire sighed. “I never said I didn’t feel anything. I’m not a robot.”
“Excuse me for sounding like you for a moment, but…how do you feel?”
“Scared. Helpless. Confused as hell.” Claire ran both hands through her hair. It didn’t help to order her thoughts or feelings.
Steph cracked a faint smile. “Sounds like you could use a good therapist.”
“Yeah. But I can’t tell Renata or any of my colleagues about this, so here I am, stuck with a comedian.”
The humor of the situation made them both grin for a moment.
Then Claire sobered. “I do care for her. At first, I tried to tell myself that it’s just rebound, but the more time I spend with Lana, the more I think it’s not about Abby. It’s about her—Lana. She’s irreverent and maddening and…absolutely wonderful.”
“So why don’t you tell her that?” Steph asked. “Maybe leaving out the maddening part.”
“It’s not that easy. I’ve gotten myself into a pretty complicated situation. I mean, how do I tell how much is for real and what’s part of the act? How can I be sure I’m not just fooling myself into thinking I love her because it would be better for the book promo or because I don’t want to be alone?” Claire firmly shook her head. “Lana’s mother was like that, and I can’t do that to her. Besides, she’s an actress. How can I even be sure that she’s interested in me for real and not just immersing herself into her role a little too deeply?”
“Be sure?” Steph repeated. “You can’t. Happiness can’t be planned like your retirement fund, Claire. You put your heart on the line and hope for the best.”
“That’s your wisdom? Hope for the best?”
“Yep.” Steph laughed. “There’s a reason why you penned a relationship book and I entertain people with cracks at my miserable love life.”
Claire looked at her sister—really looked at her for the first time in years. An unexpected maturity lay in her gray eyes, usually hidden by jokes and smart-ass comments.
“Thank you,” Claire said quietly. “For listening. And for not judging.”
“Oh, I will judge if you let Lana get away.” Steph tilted her head and smirked. “Actually, I might snatch her up for myself if you don’t.”
Claire glowered at her.
“Snatch who up?” their father asked from the doorway.
Heat shot up Claire’s neck, but Steph seemed unflustered. “No one, Dad. Are you done boring Lana with your vacation photos?”
“We’re done showing her the vacation photos,” their father said. “Your mother suggested heading over to the marina to see the fireworks show, but we’d need to leave soon to get a good place. Anyone up for it?”
Steph threw the dish towel onto the counter. “Not me. I’ve got a hot date later—with lots of fireworks of my own,” she added with a grin.
Their father turned his attention to Claire. “What about you and Lana? Watching fireworks over the ocean…I bet it’ll be very romantic.”
A romantic evening. Just what she needed to make herself even more confused. Claire suppressed a sigh. “Ask Lana if she wants to go.”
“She said to ask you.”
“Guess you’re going, then.” Steph patted Claire’s shoulder. “Have fun.”
The fireworks show at the marina probably represented the longest and at the same time shortest twenty minutes of Claire’s life.
While they waited for the display to begin, Claire shivered in the breeze from the ocean. Now that the sun had set, it was unexpectedly cool for July, at least for Claire, who got cold easily.
All around them, couples cuddled up. Even her parents were nestled close like two newlyweds.
Lana stepped closer. “Want me to…?” She mimed putting her arms around her.
“Um, well, it would look pretty strange if we didn’t,” Claire whispered back.
“Right.” Lana moved even closer and wrapped her arms around Claire from behind.
Her warmth engulfed Claire like a blanket. She shivered, but this time it had not
hing to do with being cold.
At exactly nine o’clock, the first firework rockets shot up and exploded, bathing the night sky in red, white, and blue. For a few seconds, the yachts and motorboats bobbing on the dark water below them looked like enchanted fairy-tale vessels.
The water reflected the colors of the fireworks as the sparks trickled down and then faded.
The crowd around them oohed and aahed.
“Beautiful,” Lana whispered, her warm breath tickling Claire’s ear.
Claire turned her head and caught a glimpse of Lana’s face, illuminated by the golden starburst that now lit up the sky. “Yes.”
Lana’s arms around her tightened, holding her closer against her body.
Slowly, Claire relaxed. She put her arms over Lana’s and leaned her head back against her shoulder.
They were surrounded by a crowd of strangers who had gathered on the dock, but with Lana’s arms encircling her, she felt strangely isolated from them. Safe. She almost wished the fireworks show would go on forever.
But, finally, the display ended with a grand finale. Half a dozen rockets rose and burst all at the same time, creating circles of light that exploded outward and changed colors.
Sparks rained down like glittering waterfalls and then faded, leaving only trails of smoke behind.
The crowd applauded and cheered and, after a minute, began to disperse.
Claire and Lana didn’t move for several seconds. Lana seemed just as reluctant to end their embrace and this last evening together. They both knew that tomorrow Claire would sign the contract—hell, Lana probably assumed she already had—and then Lana would move out.
Slowly, Lana dropped her arms from around her and stepped back.
Claire shivered when her back lost contact with Lana’s toasty warm front. Her fingertips still tingled where she’d rested them against Lana’s arms. She curled her hands into fists and stuffed them into her pockets.
“I didn’t promise too much, did I?” Claire’s father asked, his arm still wrapped around his wife. “Pretty romantic, hm?”
