The Sweetheart Sham

by Danielle Ellison

  That makes Will and me both laugh. He may not encourage it, but he had no issues with it when he was our age. His senior year, Anthony Miller snuck in to Pete’s bar, stole half the liquor, and kept the senior class drunk for an entire weekend. Last I was there, Pete didn’t even let minors stand on the sidewalk next to the bar. Only in Culler.

  Will chuckles a dry barking laugh. “It was a hell of a night, big brother. I’m still recovering.”

  “The End of the Year Party always is,” Drew says.

  This is my in.

  “Speaking of a party, looks like I’ll be in Culler for the whole summer.”

  They both say “no shit” at the same time.

  “When do you come?” Drew asks.

  “When did this happen?” Will asks.

  “Granddad called a couple of weeks ago and Ma told me today. I’m coming in a week.”

  “No one says no to Orry Montgomery.” Will laughs.

  He’s right. I think if it weren’t Drew’s wedding, I wouldn’t get to go back at all. There’d been reasons over the years we could’ve returned—good reasons—but Ma didn’t want to, and I didn’t push her. Dad has never seemed to want me there all this time. He’s never asked me to come, so I didn’t. I missed it, but honestly, most of the time I didn’t want to go back at all when leaving was so damn hard.

  “Emma Claire can’t wait to meet you,” Drew says.

  “Trust me. I look forward to telling her all the stories I can so she knows who she’s marrying.”

  That makes Drew laugh then shout, “Cover me!” Our characters follow him between some buildings while we launch a full-on assault rifle attack against a horde.

  “It’ll be great to have you home,” Will says.

  “I’m pretty happy about it.”

  I am happy, no doubt about that, but I’m also seriously nervous. Hanging out with my dad is going to be weird—he’s a stranger now to me. Will and I haven’t hung out in a long time, either. Relationships are easy when you’re playing video games and talking on coms; they’re different in real life, when it’s just two people in one space.

  There’s also Georgia Ann. I broke her heart, I know that, and I’ve never been able to make it up to her. What’s she going to do when she sees me again?

  My character takes a few more shots. “Someone drop some ammo!” Will yells. We both comply and then take out a group that snuck up behind us.

  “What else happened at the End of the Year Party? You have any random hookups?” I ask.

  Immediately I wish I hadn’t because my mind goes there. To her. My last End of the Year Party was that final summer in Culler. It was there I kissed Georgia Ann. She’d pushed me away and told me to sober up. I wasn’t drunk, though. I’d just wanted to kiss her. I’d been waiting all year for the right time to do it, she’d been standing there under the moonlight, and I went for it.

  That changed everything for us.

  “Not for me,” Will says.

  I settle back into my seat as our three characters run across the screen. We move through the forest toward a camp wall on the other side. Drew starts telling us which direction to go, how to split up. Good. I need to not think. I need to get lost in the game where Georgia Ann doesn’t exist.

  Five minutes later, I’ve failed.

  Who was I kidding? She’s always existed. Even two years later. She’d always been my fantasy girl, and I screwed that up. I still think about her a lot. When I wasn’t being a wuss, I’d ask about her. Will didn’t know about us, or if he did he’s never mentioned it. What would she sound like now? What would she look like? What does she do for fun? How has she changed? Would she smile if she saw me again, or would she punch me in the face?

  It’s hard to tell with her. The girl was a tornado—unpredictable, fierce, and mesmerizing. At least she had been once.

  I’d dated since I’d been in Atlanta, but none of them compared to her and none of them lasted. My last serious girlfriend didn’t tell me she was still hanging out with her ex until she ended up pregnant. I hadn’t slept with her, so I knew it wasn’t mine. One thing I can’t handle is a liar, not after everything my ma and I have gone through.

  What the hell would I say to Georgia Ann when we saw each other? We hadn’t talked since I’d left, which wasn’t for a lack of trying. She shut me down a few times, then she disappeared altogether.

  “How’s Georgia Ann?” I ask.

  There’s a pause over the headset as we cover Drew in the game and go in for an attack. Drew is yelling commands at us as Will’s character takes down a few enemies. I focus on that instead, shooting for dead. Once the path is clear, our characters move forward.

  “Georgia’s good. Her momma’s driving her crazy already with someone’s wedding plans.”

  “Sorry,” Drew interjects. “It’s driving me crazy, too.”

  “She’s Georgie, you know?”

  I nod, picturing her in my head. “I do know.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say, but really I doubt it, the way we left things. We didn’t even say good-bye. In our last conversation, which I only got after calling her nonstop, I asked her to let me explain. She didn’t let me.

  The last words she ever said to me were, “You broke my heart, Beau Montgomery, that’s what happened. There’s nothing else to say. Hope your new life is grand.”

  That was it. That was the last time I heard her voice. I could only hope that now, maybe, she’d hate me a little less. But what if she didn’t?

  “Hey, maybe don’t tell her I’m coming.”

  “Why not?” Will asks.

  I think for a second. Why not? Will likely doesn’t know we had a history. “I want to surprise her.”

  “She hates surprises,” Will says.

  “I know, but…just go with it, okay?”

  “Sure, whatever,” he says.

  A grenade hits the building we’re raiding and kills us all.

  …

  I pull some suitcases from the attic. I have a week, but I want to get on out of here as fast as I can when the day comes to leave. Ma says she’s still making the trip down for the wedding, and I hope she does.

  My phone dings with a text from Dad. Son, I hear you’re coming all summer. Can’t wait to see you. I miss you around here. We all do.

  I stare at the words. Dad misses me. He’s got a shit way of showing it. I get a present in the mail on my birthday and Christmas, a few texts, and that’s it. He’s never asked me to return home, never watched a basketball game, or even visited me. He stopped being my dad the day we left town.

  Same

  I’ll talk to the coach about the basketball camp in town and let you know.

  K

  Three dots come and disappear. Guess that’s the end of father/son bonding time. I get out my suitcase in the corner of the room and open it up. I hear Ma’s footfalls on the steps before I see her. “You need help?” she asks.

  “I’ve got it all,” I reply. Ma looks at me, really stares at me. “What?”

  “Sit down.”

  “Ma.”

  She points to my bed so I sit on the side of it. Ma runs a hand over my hair. I hate when she does that. “Look, I want to talk to you about Culler. I know you and your dad haven’t been on good terms.”

  “Please, don’t.” Ma doesn’t really tell me much about Dad, ever. Collectively, we choose to usually not talk about him. I prefer it that way. Dad lied, he cheated, and he let us go.

  She holds up her hand. “Hear me out. All I’m going to say is that I hope you give him a chance.”

  I sigh. “To what?”

  “Be your father.”

  I shake my head and start to get up. Talking about Dad isn’t on the top of my to-do list. “I’m all right without him.”

  Ma pulls me back down. “You are, but he’s going to be there with you. I don’t want you to look back one day and wonder. Think of this as an opportunity.”

  “O
kay,” I say, mostly to appease her. I plan to spend the summer avoiding him as much as I possibly can.

  She clears her throat. “I was also going to tell you…” She pauses. “I think Lawrence is going to propose.” Ma looks at me. “What would you think about that?”

  I stare at Ma this time. Is she crazy? She wants to get married again? She learned the last time that marriage doesn’t mean anything.

  I respect her too much to say that. “What do you think about it?”

  She looks away and then back at me, like she’s nervous. Ma doesn’t really get nervous. “I’d say yes.”

  “Why?”

  I don’t mean to say it the way it comes out. Even Ma looks surprised. I just don’t understand how she’d even consider this again.

  “He makes me happy, he loves me. I love him, too.”

  He does make Ma happy. I know that much.

  “So what do you think about it?” she asks again. “I really want your blessing.”

  I think it’s reckless. Stupid, even, not that I’m one to tell Ma that. He looks at Ma that way now, he loves her that way now, but Dad did once, too. Then one day he’ll start lying to her, hiding things from her, and then sit back as it destroys them. People lie, they cheat, and they keep secrets. What’s the point of that?

  I shrug. “As long as it’s what you want.”

  This place isn’t my home; that would be true with or without Lawrence in it. It’s all temporary, everything is. You can really only depend on yourself in life, so yeah. It’s Ma’s life, not mine.

  Her lips form a hard line. “That’s not really an answer. I want to be sure you like him, that you’re okay with it. We’re talking about forever. Adding someone to your life, and mine, forever.”

  Forever. Is it possible to love someone forever? To have someone forever in your life? Ma and Dad promised that and failed. Even my family has failed me in many ways.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I understand,” she says. Ma sighs and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to bed.”

  I can tell she’s disappointed I didn’t give her the answer she wanted, but I can’t lie to her. I won’t tell her I approve of the idea when I’m not sure I do. It’s not even about Lawrence, it’s a general marriage thing. I don’t understand how she can think about love and marriage again.

  “Night,” I say.

  I look at the empty suitcase on my floor. I am going to Culler. Home. It’s about time, too. I don’t want to have to think about Ma’s possible marriage or relationships.

  I’m excited to be going home. I just want to hang out with Will and see my old friends and relax. Summer means milkshakes, camping, and cotton candy. Basketball, friends, no school, and swimming in the lake.

  It’s going to be the perfect summer.

  Chapter Three

  Georgie

  I’d planned to spend my first Monday without school asleep, but Momma has other ideas. She prances through my room opening curtains. Her heels sound like nails tapping into my head.

  “Up ’n’ at ’em, sunshine!”

  I cram my pillow over my head and groan.

  “You can’t spend the day like a bump on a log.”

  I groan again.

  “Emma Claire is coming with her mother this morning. We’ve got a lot to do and only eight weeks to finish it all!” Momma pulls the pillow off my head.

  “Momma!” I yell, reaching for it. She steps back.

  “Up, Georgia Ann,” she says, throwing my pillow back at me. Momma may be short and sweeter than anything, but she’s a viper underneath. “And get yourself presentable.” Then she’s gone.

  I glance at my phone—6:34 a.m. Momma is going to be the death of me if she expects me to wake up this early every day all summer. I sigh. If I don’t get up and in the shower, she’ll be back.

  I pull myself out of bed and glance at the mirror with a groan. There, on a bright pink notecard tucked into the frame are two bold words in my own handwriting. Be grateful. I wrote that the day of Momma’s brain surgery.

  It’s been a year and a half since, not too long after Beau and Kerri moved. Back then, Momma was her usual self until bam, she was out. Two days of nausea and vomiting. We thought it was a stomach bug, but then she couldn’t stay balanced and got a headache. A whole week she was sick and nothing was making her feel better. It was the scariest moment when we were standing in the kitchen, talking, and then all of a sudden her glass of sweet tea slipped through her fingers and shattered on the floor. She looked at me—right at me and through me at the same time—and she tried to say my name, but no words came out.

  Daddy took her to the doctor, and that’s when they found it. A nonmalignant meningioma. It was about the size of a walnut tucked right there in her brain near her spinal cord. They removed it, but the real struggle was over the next few months. That’s how I became Momma’s right hand. I had to step up and help her. This wedding is the biggest thing she’s done since then.

  And I am grateful.

  I’m happy she’s here, healthy, and back to doing what she loves. Even if that means she’s gonna be testing my patience all summer and waking me up at the crack of dawn. I walk past the notecard and turn on my shower. Be grateful, Georgie.

  I’m also a different kind of grateful for coffee and the smell that’s already seeping up the stairs into my room.

  Downstairs, Daddy is reading the paper and I kiss his cheek. “Smells good.”

  He teeters his hand. “Made a Uganda Arabica. Not as vibrant as last week’s.”

  Daddy’s been obsessed with coffee lately. It started at Christmas when we watched a documentary, and now he’s trying coffee from around the world. He’s always liked to explore, experiment, adventure—which is totally different than Momma, whose idea of exploring, experimenting, and adventuring is a free makeover at a department store.

  “I bet it’s still good,” I say and move toward the coffee.

  Momma comes in the room and starts giving Daddy a list of things that he could do today instead of being in the house. He nods and keeps reading the paper. I don’t know why she goes on; Daddy will probably hide out in his workshop all day. He and Beau’s dad, Hank, sold half their company to some big investor, and now he holes up in that workshop in his free time, especially when Momma is in “Jessamyn Monroe, Event Planner” mode.

  “Make sure you’re keeping track of the RSVPs as they come in.”

  I nod at Momma. “I’m on it.”

  “Good. One less thing for me to worry about.”

  I take a sip of my coffee; it’s extra bitter going down. “I saw Miss Kerri RSVP’d. Do you know she’s coming?”

  Momma sighs. Kerri Ann—the missing part of her life that turns my momma and Will’s mom, Madison, into the Trio. That’s what Daddy called them before Kerri left: the Trio. Best friends forever, sorority sisters, neighbors, partners in crime. They even swore they’d each name their daughter Ann, another common thread to keep them together. Little did they suspect only one of them would have a daughter. Lucky me.

  I watch Momma over my mug as she eats a handful of almonds. What I’m really asking is when Beau is coming back, not that I’d ever tell Momma that. She has no idea—no one does—that I used to be something with Beau. No idea of our history, that he stood me up at the Sweetheart Dance that summer, that he didn’t even say good-bye, or that those weeks of “allergies” were really me crying over him. I swallow down a lump in my throat. I shouldn’t think about him; Beau Montgomery only leads to heartache.

  “Not sure,” Momma answers before releasing her tension in a long sigh the way the doctor taught her. “I haven’t heard from Kerri Ann yet. Worst case, he can do groomsmen fittings from Atlanta, though you know it kills me to not see how that tux fits.” Momma has particulars for things like this.

  Momma lingers at the window, twisting her pearls around in between her fingers. “I’m sure whatever happens there, it will be fine. This is the biggest event of the summer, and there’s
only so much I can do about that one issue.”

  This is the event of the summer. The whole town is invited to the wedding, and they’ll all come. Emma Claire wanted a certain date, one that just so happened to fall on the same day as the town’s annual Sweetheart Dance. It was canceled for the first time in Culler’s history, and in exchange the reception is in the town square so everyone can come. Even if that wasn’t so, Drew is the previous golden boy, so that settles that. It’s not every year a Montgomery gets married, and the whole town is sure to pester us all for the next eight weeks.

  “Georgie, I may need to keep a few things in your room.”

  I shoot my eyes up at Momma, who’s staring at her phone. The last time she used my room she turned it into a dressing room for clowns. Literally. I couldn’t sleep for a week with all the confetti and big red noses. “My room? Why my room?”

  Momma puts a hand on her hip. “This wedding is important, and it would be really helpful to me if you would cooperate.”

  Daddy looks at me over his paper with his sympathy face. Sure, it’s easy for him. He gets to hide in the workshop. Momma wouldn’t dare to borrow his space.

  “Only a few things—and I get approval.”

  She smiles and moves to kiss my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

  My summer is officially doomed.

  The doorbell rings and Momma races out of the kitchen. “That will be Emma Claire. Sam, clean that up!” she yells, running through the kitchen.

  Daddy looks at the table, where it’s only a newspaper and his coffee. “Clean what up?”

  I shrug, and even though I know he’s asleep, I text Will.

  !!!!

  That’s our code for “Save me!”

  Next I hear Momma’s sticky sweet hospitality voice echo through the house. Then it’s not the sound of two heels on our hardwood floors, but eight. I look up. Daddy’s got his paper tucked under his arm and his coffee in the other hand. “You aren’t leaving me alone!” I wail.

  He opens the back door. “Be strong, Georgia Girl,” and he’s out as Momma reenters the kitchen.

  Emma Claire Stanguard is beautiful. I’ve only met her a couple of times in passing, and each time I see her I have to pause. She’s beauty queen gorgeous, and all legs even though she’s kinda short like me. Long red hair that falls down her back in these perfectly curled wisps—my hair would never do that—bright green eyes, a few freckles along her nose. She’s much too pretty for Drew, even if he is a Montgomery.