The Sweetheart Sham

by Danielle Ellison

  “Aw, well that’s a shame. He was a good guy. He’d always let you get two because you were a girl.”

  She bats her eyes at me. “He let me get two because he said I was cuter than you and Will.”

  “Well, you were.”

  “You grew up just fine, too,” she says. I look at her, and she clamps her lips around her straw and looks away. “This is new,” Georgia Ann says as we walk up to a music store. “Right after you left.”

  I nod, trying to get a whole picture of what it used to be. “This was a stationery store.”

  “Yup. The bookstore sells most of that now.”

  We pass a few people who all wave as we walk by or say, “Hey, how are you?” The correct response is always, “Good, you?” They’ll say “good” back, and all of this happens without ever stopping. It’s just what you do after you make eye contact with someone.

  We round the next shop: the pizza parlor we went to the other night. “Tell me about this. Culler never had a pizza place, but it tasted familiar to me, and I know it’s new.”

  “It’s Lou’s pizza. His nephew owns this place, so it’s the same recipe and everything.” She smiles. “There was actually another pizza place that opened up. It started a pizza war for about five months, then the other one lost and now it’s Chinese.”

  “Chinese food in Culler. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  She points to the opposite end of the street. “It’s down by the church. Never go there on Sundays, because it’s always packed after services.”

  I shake my head and stare at the reigning pizza place. “This used to be something else,” I say. “A candle store?”

  “It burned down.”

  “The candle store burned down?”

  “Yup, and it took the stationery shop with it. The bakery was a mess too, but they stopped it before too much was destroyed.”

  I start laughing. I start and I can’t stop. Georgia Ann starts laughing, too, and I’m not real sure she knows why. “A candle store burned down the stationery shop and nearly the bakery.” It’s too funny. Only in this town.

  “It smelled like burned paper, bread, and fresh linen for weeks,” she adds, and that makes me laugh harder. She does, too, and then we’re standing there cracking up on the sidewalk.

  “Only in Culler,” I say.

  Georgia Ann wipes her eyes, and I sigh. There’s really nothing like home. I glance across the street where the town sheriff and his dog are sitting outside the town doctor’s office. That’s right. There are no hospitals in Culler, only Hart Family Medicine, on call 24/7. Next to it, connected actually by an internal door, is the pharmacy. “Wait, is that a CVS?”

  “Oh yeah. Mrs. MacLaren was offered a bunch of money to sell, and Jeremy left years ago, so she took it and retired.”

  “There’s a CVS in Culler.”

  “We’re moving up in the world. It nearly started a riot.”

  “I believe it,” I say. I could almost hear Granddad going on about it. As much as Culler didn’t like change, the people here also didn’t like commercial anything.

  Georgia Ann’s phone rings and she hands me her milkshake. I am still surprised they even have cell phone reception in Culler, as much as they hate everything else.

  “Oh hey,” she answers, her voice all chipper. I know immediately that it’s Will. That’s a sound a girl only makes for a boy. “Yeah, I’m downtown with Beau. Sure, we can meet you there. K.” She laughs. “Bye.”

  I hand her back her milkshake, the mood suddenly gone. For a moment there, I forgot I was only borrowing her. “Will’s going to meet us back over at the square.”

  “Sure,” I say. “I guess he didn’t know you were with me still.”

  She waves me off. “It’s fine. I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

  “I’d care if you were my girlfriend,” I say. She stares at me, and for a few seconds neither of us looks away.

  “Hey Georgie and Beau,” a voice coos from behind. Shelby Kramer slinks up, and I don’t know her very well anymore, but even when we were kids she was jealous of Georgia Ann. Haley Howell is with her, and those two don’t seem like they’d be friends. “What are you two up to?”

  “We’re about to meet Will.”

  Shelby scowls, but Haley smiles.

  “Oh yeah, congrats on that!,” Haley says. “You two are beyond cute together! I haven’t seen you much at Belles meetings with all the wedding stuff, or I would’ve told you sooner.”

  “Momma keeps us busy, that’s for sure. How’s the parade plans coming?”

  Haley rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. Jo is all over it; we’ve barely had to do much. I think she’s trying to prove to your momma that she can handle things.”

  Shelby’s hand is on my shoulder. “So, Beau, how are you enjoying your summer? It must be fun living somewhere without all this.”

  I step away from her and start walking toward the square so she can’t touch me anymore. “It’s been a great summer so far. I like being home, connecting with my old friends, hearing about town.”

  “This town?” Haley asks, confused. “Nothing changes.”

  “That’s what Georgia Ann said, but then there was a pizza war and a candle store/stationery store fire.” I smile and Georgia Ann smiles back.

  “It smelled horrible,” Haley adds.

  “Well, it sounds like you had a good time. Georgia Ann knows about everything,” Shelby says.

  There’s a weird thing girls do when they’re baiting each other that I don’t even understand, but she does that. Georgia Ann tenses, but she smiles anyway. Old Georgia Ann would not let that ride. As much as they say nothing changes in town, it does every single second because we do. We grow, we evolve, and so does Culler. It’s a good thing; it’s natural. Like it or not.

  “Heads up,” someone yells. A Frisbee comes hurling toward us. Shelby, actually, catches it before it hits Haley in the face.

  “You can’t throw that out here,” Mayor Dodd starts yelling. He must’ve seen it from inside his shop. He points to Shelby. “No Frisbees on the sidewalk!”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “I said none, Town Rule 68,” the mayor snaps.

  “Then take it,” Shelby says, handing it over. He huffs and takes it and walks back inside.

  “That was mine!” Jake yells.

  “Town Rule 68!” Shelby mocks. Lexington flips her off; she does it right back.

  Just like that, everyone is together. It’s nice to feel like I’m part of something. I turn toward Will, but the next thing I know his arms are wrapped around Georgia Ann. It’s nothing, a hug, and I know he’s her boyfriend, but it still stings.

  Guess I was wrong. This town does change. Not all of it for the better.

  …

  Granddad and Pappy Monroe are outside shooting birds. The sun set hours ago, and they’re mostly hitting nothing. Drew, Emma Claire, Will, and I are playing Uno because that’s as close to poker as we can get in this house. Aunt Madison is drinking a little more wine than usual while Dad is talking with Uncle Ben. Dad keeps looking toward me. I try not to let it bug me, but it does. I don’t even really have a good reason why.

  “Your turn,” Will says, nudging me with his arm.

  “Right,” I say. I throw down a card.

  We’re all waiting for dessert so we can go our separate ways. Tonight you can feel the eagerness. I don’t know what happened while Will and I were out, but whatever it was wasn’t good.

  “What do you think is going on?” Will whispers to the group.

  Drew shrugs and plays his card. “Mom said something about Aunt Sissy.”

  “The woman is not even here yet, and she’s already causing trouble,” Will adds.

  Emma Claire plays a wild card. “Red.” We all groan. All three of us ran out of red a few turns ago. “It’s normal.”

  “What is?” I ask.

  “Families have drama and secrets,” Emma Claire says.

  “You haven’t met Sissy yet,” Wi
ll mutters, and I snort. It’s true.

  Emma Claire makes Drew draw two. “It’s reassuring to know the Montgomerys aren’t perfect.”

  “Don’t let Granddad hear you say that,” Drew adds with a smile.

  Someone calls that dessert is ready, and Granddad and Pappy Monroe lead the way. Strawberry shortcake tonight. It reminds me of Georgia Ann, which reminds me of Will and Georgia Ann kissing…and suddenly I don’t want any dessert at all.

  We sit at the patio table and pass around pie. We are good at convincing ourselves the tension is part of the ambiance.

  “Jack,” Granddad says to Pappy Monroe. “Did you talk to John Wilson today?”

  “John Wilson? Nah, why would I talk to him? All he does is complain that his back hurts. We’re old. All our backs are hurtin’!” Pappy Monroe says.

  That makes everyone laugh a little. It must be a Monroe trait, easing tension.

  “Turns out his great-granddaughter is a little funny.” We all look at him expectedly. Granddad groans. I don’t know what that means.

  “Yanno, funny.” No one responds. “She’s dating a girl. Said she brought her over to the home like it was nothing.”

  Oh. Funny. I look down at my plate.

  “Maybe it ain’t a thing,” Pappy responds.

  Granddad shakes his head. “None of my business because she ain’t my kin, that’s what I told him, ’cause my kin ain’t funny. We’re better.”

  “It doesn’t make you better or worse than someone, Granddad, if you love someone that other people may not agree with,” Drew says.

  Pappy is already shaking his head.

  “I ain’t saying it’s right or wrong, a woman being with a woman, but I ain’t wanting to watch them get married.”

  “They’re getting married?” Pappy Monroe asks.

  “She wants him to walk her down the aisle. Think of how confusing that is. Two brides! Which one is wearing the dress?”

  “Well, people are going to make their own decisions, and we have to support them in this day, even if we don’t agree with it,” Dad says. I look toward him, surprised to hear him speak against Granddad on anything. Granddad looks surprised, too.

  “Hogwash, Hank. If Beau here—your only son—wanted to marry a man, you’re saying you’d be okay with that?”

  Dad looks at me quickly then back to Granddad. “I reckon I’d want him to be happy whatever that meant.”

  “You’d be madder than a hornet and don’t pretend you wouldn’t. You know why? ’Cause you’re a Montgomery. You have standards. This whole family does. You’d be no more okay with him being funny than you would if he turned his back on his name and went off and lived under a bridge somewhere like some hobo. That’s what makes him happy, but that don’t mean it’s what’s good for him.”

  Dad doesn’t respond to that, so Granddad keeps going.

  “It’s just like that Westin boy, you remember him, Jack? The whole town knew he was funny, and that family left here in the dead of night. There was just no living here after that came to light. Scandal like that,” he says.

  I remember Dale Westin, but I don’t know what he’s talking about a scandal. Must’ve been after I left. I look toward Will for an answer, but his eyes are focused on his strawberries like they could grow legs and walk away. No one at the table says a word. They’re all quiet. It’s unlike my family to say nothing at all.

  “Ah,” Pappy Monroe says. “Well, John Wilson is a kook.”

  Dad speaks up again. “That’s people’s issues in general. Sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Everyone should keep their eyes on their own papers.”

  Granddad coughs a bit, then takes a swig of water. “I ain’t sticking my nose anywhere; this family is my business. It’s my name. I wouldn’t be letting no granddaughter of mine be funny. I certainly wouldn’t walk her down the aisle so she can marry another woman in a dress. ‘Be happy’ my ass. Happiness ain’t nothing anyone can keep for too long before it goes to someone else. That’s the problem with this generation, always expecting happiness.”

  I shoot a look toward Granddad. I can’t believe Dad is the only one who’s saying his opinion. “I think if I wanted to marry someone or go live under a bridge, there wouldn’t be much you could do about it to change my mind,” I say.

  Granddad seems like he wants to say something, but Aunt Madison changes the subject to the wedding.

  Everyone is pretty somber now, even more if that’s possible. Drew and Emma Claire have abandoned their dessert. I can’t help but wonder what Georgia Ann would’ve said if she’d been here. She would’ve fought back harder.

  I find Dad’s gaze across the table as he takes swig of scotch. It’s not like him to speak up. Whatever caused it is almost respectable. He lifts the glass toward me in a silent gesture. For some reason, it gives me pride to be united in something. Even with him.

  When I look over at Will’s seat across the table, it’s empty.

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgie

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” I say to Will. We sit together in his Jeep, windows down. It’s a gorgeous evening outside, hot but not the usual torture.

  He rolls his eyes. “Granddad meant it.”

  “But he wasn’t talking about you, Will.”

  “I’m telling you, again, that’s why I can’t say anything.” Will grips the steering wheel harder so his knuckles turn colors. “God, he even mentioned Dale.”

  “That’s because Dale is the only openly gay person Culler has ever encountered.”

  Will shakes his head. “Yeah, and he moved because of it.” I start to protest but Will keeps talking. “Mystery Boy has it the same way at his place with his family.”

  I’d be scared, too, if I had a big secret like theirs. Will was so nervous when he came out to me; I remember it like it was yesterday. It was winter break—the first Christmas we were going to have without Beau; we were sitting up in the family room, fire going, TV show on. There was a Coke commercial and the guy in the ad was really hot, which I said. Will agreed. I laughed, and he kept looking at me.

  “I know this is a really bad time with your mom, but I need to tell you something.” He’d sorta paused. “I didn’t want to tell anyone until I was sure.”

  “You can tell me anything you want, Will. You know that.”

  “I think I’m gay,” he’d said.

  I’d paused. “You think?”

  “I know,” he’d said. I sat there for a second, trying to let it sink in. I was really surprised. My best friend was gay. Then again, maybe I wasn’t surprised. Every girl in town would have Will if he asked her. They certainly tried, but he never gave in. I didn’t really know. Everything was playing through my head on hyperspeed, and I couldn’t quite latch on to any particular thought or feeling or memory.

  “Are you mad?”

  To this day, I hate that he asked that, that I was so caught up in my own head that I couldn’t immediately hug him or something.

  I shook my head. “Mad that you’re gay? No. I never could be,” I’d said.

  He’d smiled at me. “No one else knows. I wanted to tell you first. I don’t want it to change how anyone sees me when I tell them.”

  I’d slung my arms around his neck. “It doesn’t change anything for me, except now I have more competition for the select amount of Culler boys.”

  We’d talked about it some more over the next few months, but it didn’t change our relationship. It strengthened it, if anything.

  He told me around the same time that everyone found out about Dale. As if he inspired him. I wonder what would have happened if Dale had stayed. Would Will have come out? Would we be in this situation right now?

  I know he’s nervous about his family, and some of them may be surprised, but I really believe that anyone who loves him, who knows him, will still look at him the same way. He’s still Will—and Mystery Boy is still whoever he is, too. In a perfect world, everyone would be accepted for exactly who
we are, the way God intended it, and there would be none of this fear or hatred. I know the world’s not perfect, especially in the South, and I might be a fool for wanting it to be some other way, but I will never stop fighting for Will.

  “Well, what about Beau?” I ask slowly. “You said he stood up to Orry—don’t you think he’d understand?”

  Will shrugs as we drive and turn in to Charleston. “Maybe, but he’s not as close to me as he used to be.”

  “So? You still trust him, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  He could have Beau on his side with Orry. “He could be a good ally,” I say. Plus, if he knew about us… I shake that away. It can’t be about me. It’s not about me. “It’d be smart to have someone else to support you.”

  “Georgie…”

  He has his agitated tone on but I smile through it. I really want him to consider telling Beau. “Who knows about Mystery Boy?”

  “No one at all,” Will says.

  That sounds lonely. I’m not saying I’m all that and a bag of chips, but I can’t imagine what Will would have to carry on his own. He’d never even have a single second to be who he is. Poor Mystery Boy. If I knew who he was, I’d support him, too.

  “When do I get to meet him?” I ask. Will’s hands tense up on the steering wheel. I pretend not to notice. “I mean, this is your fourth date.” Will turns left into downtown, and the sidewalks are crowded with people shopping in the market.

  “You will when he’s ready.”

  “But not yet,” I say.

  “Not yet.”

  I nod, but I feel a little left out. I sorta hate that Will has a boyfriend I don’t know about. I know I have secrets from Will about Beau and me, but that’s old news. There’s no point in telling him anything now because there’s nothing to tell. This feels different, like watching someone else eat pie and not getting to have any.

  “Well, as long as he’s treating you good.”

  “He is,” Will says. “I’m sorry, by the way. I know I haven’t really been spending much time with you this summer. I miss you.”

  “I get it, and I miss you, too.”

  Aside from these dates to Charleston or some of the wedding stuff, I don’t get to see him as much as I want to. Through the school year, it’s every single day. We had a few of our classes together last year, and that’s really what keeps us both going. I know it’s different in summer, especially with the boyfriend, the wedding, and Beau being back, but I do wish I had more time with him.