Artificial Sweethearts (North Pole, Minnesota)

by Julie Hammerle

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “Not recommended.”

  After a few moments, Tinka said, “So, we haven’t talked about…our situation.”

  “No, we haven’t.” This was it. This was where she’d tell him they were even, and they could go their separate ways. Sam clutched his own armrest, bracing himself for the rejection. He readied his response. He’d be cool and flippant. He’d make a joke. It wasn’t like he’d never been shot down before.

  “You’re probably wondering why I had a change of heart last night.” Tinka stared off to the side as scenery at their eye level flew past them. “My parents are all about me getting together with that Dylan guy, and I don’t want to deal with him or romance at all right now.” She turned to Sam. All the color had drained from her face. “I did a bad thing.”

  What could she have done that made her so upset—murder? Treason? His vast movie-watching experience had prepared him for any and all confessions.

  “Can I tell you about it? I need to tell someone.”

  He nodded. Whatever it was, he was going to be so cool about it.

  “The last night at school, there was this big party.” Tinka held up a hand, letting go of the armrest for a split second. “Let me backtrack. I kind of spent most of last year getting drunk and hooking up, which were things I never did back in Minneapolis, but when I was in South Carolina…”

  “All bets were off,” Sam said.

  “Kind of.” Tinka shrugged. “You get it.”

  Sam didn’t, really. Drinking was not something he did. His mom had been killed by a drunk driver, and their whole house had been dry ever since. He wasn’t against people drinking or anything—a lot of his friends, even Harper, did—but he wasn’t a party guy. He didn’t hook up randomly. He, based on recent history with Dottie, was incapable of hooking up randomly. But he certainly didn’t judge his friends or Tinka for doing those things.

  “Anyway.” Tinka shuddered and closed her eyes. Sam wasn’t sure if that was because they were on a scary chairlift or if it had to do with what she was about to say. “The party. The last night of school. I’d had a lot to drink and I got to talking with this one guy and we ended up back in his room.” Now she opened her eyes and bit her lip for a moment. “But he wasn’t any random guy. He was Jane’s ex, like, as in they had just broken up.”

  “Oh.” He had been prepared to deal with treason or murder, but not this.

  “I stopped it once I realized what I was doing, and all we did was kiss. Literally, that was it. But I felt awful, still do, and of course it’s been agonizing carrying this secret around while Jane’s here—she has no idea, by the way.”

  “I won’t say anything.” He’d be a steel trap, whatever Tinka needed. None of this was his business, after all.

  “But it wasn’t just what I did, but it was the fact I did it at all. How did I go from being this cautious wallflower to getting wasted and hooking up with my roommate’s ex-boyfriend in the span of a few months?”

  “This is some heady stuff for one ski lift ride.” Sam chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I’m sorry. I’m unloading on you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Well, the whole existential thing coupled with how badly I treated Karen over the past year and how my parents seem to be doing better here without me, I realized I needed to reckon with some things, you know?” Tinka turned toward Sam, fully facing him. “It hit me last night—maybe you were on to something. And maybe pretending to date you would get my parents off my back about Dylan at least. It’d take one problem off my plate.”

  “We’re kind of in the same boat,” Sam said. “I’m dealing with leaving for college and organizing my brother’s wedding, and my siblings have been relentlessly teasing me about not being able to get a date. It’s like, they left me with all this work to do and instead of being nice about it, they keep jabbing me where it hurts the most.” He paused. “Maybe that’s why I caved to their pressure and texted Dottie. I wanted to get them off my back. I wanted some peace. Though it only created more problems. If I hadn’t done that—”

  “I wouldn’t have been able to use you as my excuse to shut down the Dylan thing.” Tinka’s eyes sparkled. “But A, it was good of you to be upfront with me right away, which leads me to B, I really do think you’re a decent guy, Sam.” She squeezed his arm. Again, sparks flew right to his brain. “At least you seem to be, based on the twenty-four hours we’ve known each other. Since our problems aren’t going away any time soon, I’m all for keeping up this charade if you are.”

  Sam hesitated. There was nothing fake about his attraction to her, which would make being her pretend boyfriend both easier and harder in some respects. “I…guess so?”

  “That’s the spirit!” Tinka grinned. “Sam Anderson, will you be my fake boyfriend until such time as we both decide this is no longer working for us?”

  Even though every ounce of Sam’s being told him this would send him careening into trouble, he said, “Yes, Tinka. I’d be honored to keep being your fake boyfriend.”

  Chapter Five

  This fake relationship thing had its perks.

  When Tinka woke the next morning, she was greeted by the scent of fresh coffee and hot breakfast coming from upstairs. Trying not to disturb Jane, who was still sleeping, Tinka rolled off their air mattress and basically floated up to the kitchen. There she found her mother, father, and Karen perched around the coffee table in the living room, filling up their plates with toast, eggs, bacon, bagels, and fruit. Her dad was even drinking orange juice.

  “Food,” Tinka said, relishing the sound of her father’s knife scraping against his toast. “Finally. Thank you.” She sat on the floor next to Karen. “Morning.”

  Karen scooted to the other side of the table. Well, Tinka, at least, was going to keep trying. If Karen wasn’t interested in patching things up, that would be on her.

  “Don’t thank us.” Tinka’s mom handed her an envelope. “This is for you.”

  Bemused, Tinka stared at her mom as she tore the paper and pulled out a note written in scribbly handwriting.

  Tinka, you deserve a real breakfast. You’ll notice there are no stale doughnuts. Sam. P.S. Why don’t you, Jane, and Karen come to my house today to hang out (if your parents can spare you)?

  She surveyed the spread. Sam hadn’t missed a thing. He’d supplied disposable plates and silverware and butter and jam. He’d even tossed in a package of napkins and a cloth for the coffee table, which was normally covered in plastic. Tinka’s mom peered over the lip of her coffee mug.

  “Well, that was decent of him.” Tinka pretended not to notice Karen’s bitter expression as she grabbed a slice of cantaloupe and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Sam invited us girls over this afternoon, if that’s okay.”

  Her parents shared a look across the table. “You went out with Sam yesterday. Isn’t this moving a little fast?” Her mom widened her eyes at Tinka’s dad.

  “And don’t you have work to do around the house?” her dad asked.

  “Well, I can’t do much with this.” Tinka held up her bandaged hand. “And we’ll be here for the morning anyway.” She figured her mom for the easier mark and pleaded her case to her. “Karen and Jane are only here for a few weeks. They can’t spend every waking moment up to their eyeballs in drywall dust.”

  “I suppose.” Her mom stood, pouring herself one more cup of coffee. “But not too late, okay?”

  Tinka’s dad followed his wife into their bedroom, which was right off the kitchen. He rested his arm across her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. Tinka caught the words “Tinka” and “boyfriend.”

  Grinning, she grabbed a banana. Putting her parents on edge and escaping hard labor—not bad at all. Thank you, Sam.

  “Sam’s a nice guy,” Karen said.

  Tinka startled. “Are you actually talking to me?”

  Karen stared at Tinka with an eyebrow cocked and her lips pursed. Half a
bagel sat uneaten on her plate. Sacrilegious.

  Tinka peeled her banana. “Fine, Karen. Keep up the silent treatment. You do you.”

  Karen shrugged and stood up. “Not like you’d take my opinion into account anyway.”

  “Just say what you want to say.”

  Karen retreated toward the stairs leading up to the guest room, her fortress of solitude.

  “We need to talk, you know.” Tinka was not going to give up that easily. “I feel awful about how things went down this year, and I want to apologize.”

  Karen turned around. “I hope you know that saying you want to apologize isn’t the same thing as actually apologizing.”

  “I understand that.”

  She squinted at Tinka. “Does Sam know what he’s getting into with you?”

  Tinka chewed her banana, a sick feeling forming in her stomach.

  “You like him now, I’m sure, when it’s convenient for you, when it’s easy and everything’s going your way, but does he know what you’re like when things start going south?” Karen paused as if to let Tinka answer. When she didn’t, Karen said, “Here’s some friendly advice: maybe don’t go all Tinka on Sam. Don’t treat him like you normally treat the people you allegedly care about.”

  “What does that mean?” Her words socked Tinka in the gut, but she covered her emotion by grabbing the uneaten bagel off Karen’s plate.

  “If I even have to tell you.” Karen rolled her eyes and disappeared up the stairs.

  …

  A little while later, Tinka, Jane, and Karen had thrown on their bathing suits and cover-ups and were making the trek from Tinka’s house to Sam’s. Karen’s words had been bugging Tinka all morning. She wasn’t wrong. Tinka had been a bad friend, and she had done some regrettable things, like ignoring phone calls and kissing her roommate’s ex.

  But the operative word there was “had.” That was the old Tinka. Yes, she’d behaved that way, but in the past. She was a changed woman. She was ready to prove she could put other people’s needs before her own, if only Karen would give her a chance.

  “Check out Sam,” Jane whispered as the girls approached the Andersons’ property. “What do you think of your boyfriend now?”

  Tinka stopped in her tracks. She shielded her eyes from the sun to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw. “That isn’t…” She squinted at the stranger standing on the front stoop.

  “That is.” Jane ran up to the door and greeted Sam with a big hug. He looked like an entirely new person. He was wearing a pair of nice jeans and a breezy button down shirt. His face was clean-shaven, and he’d gotten a haircut. He laughed as Jane ran her hand down his smooth cheek. Sam had dressed up.

  He’d better not have done that for Tinka’s benefit. She and Sam were supposed to be on the same page. This was a mutually beneficial relationship of convenience. Neat and tidy. No one’s feelings were going to get hurt, as long as everyone played by the rules and didn’t make it weird, like by getting makeovers to impress the other person.

  Tinka took her time ascending the steps. “Hi.” She fixed the shoulder on the yellow, cotton sundress she was using as a cover-up. Jane and Karen hovered inside the foyer, and Jane was making kissy faces at Tinka. She waved them away, and they scurried down the hall.

  Sam leaned down and whispered, “What do you think?” He waved his hand to indicate his new clothes. “Not my idea. I told my sister Harper about us. I hope that’s okay.”

  Ah, so that was why. He’d only dressed up to make it seem like he was trying to impress his girlfriend. Tinka smiled. “Totally fine. Obviously, that’s why we’re doing this.”

  “I said you were coming over, and she made me promise to make myself presentable. I even had to send her a picture of me all dressed up as proof.”

  “I think…” Tinka searched for something witty to say, but she went with, “You look nice.” And he did. He cleaned up well. Very, very well. Heat rose up Tinka’s neck. He even smelled good, like soap, but with a hint of sweetness underneath.

  “Don’t get used to it,” he said. “As soon as we head outside, it’s back to comfy shorts for me.”

  “Good.” Tinka’s eyes twinkled. “I like your movie T-shirts. It’s sort of a game, trying to guess which one you’ll wear next.”

  “You think about my T-shirts?” Sam’s dimple flashed.

  Tinka blushed. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Ugh, she shouldn’t be tongue-tied in front of Sam. He was the same guy he was yesterday and the day before, but in better clothes and with a scent that reminded her of cookies and clean cotton. She expected him to play by the rules and keep things as platonic as possible, but here she was drooling over him.

  She brushed past him into the house, and the Anderson mansion opened before her. Tinka had to take a moment to catch her breath. It wasn’t simply that the house was beautiful, which it was and she’d always figured it would be, but there was such an aura of home to it. People lived in this house. There was no doubt about it. And after a week of barely surviving in her parents’ dump, that was enough.

  When she spotted a stately grandfather clock next to the stairs, Tinka whispered, “I want to live here.”

  “Play your cards right, and we could take this fake dating thing all the way to a fake marriage.”

  Tinka’s eyes snapped to Sam’s. He was blushing, too.

  He cleared his throat. “We’d have to fight my sister for the house, though, and she’s scrappy as hell.”

  “We can take her,” Tinka said.

  The front hallway opened up on both sides to a living room and dining room dressed in sunny yellows and bright blues. The couches were buried in plush pillows. It wasn’t too hot today, so a breeze blew through the open windows, ruffling the airy chiffon curtains. In the corner of the living room stood a grand piano, whose top was covered with frames boasting photo after photo of the Anderson family, dating back decades. In fact, pictures were everywhere, all over the house. They lined the walls leading upstairs and the mantel in the dining room. They were on coffee tables and end tables and countertops. Every room of this house seemed to shout, “These are the people who live here.”

  Tinka’s parents’ house said, “We’re a hot mess. Come get high on paint fumes!”

  Sam led Tinka through the first floor and into the great room off the back of the house, where Jane and Karen were waiting for them. This room, stocked with more pictures and a giant television, was attached to the massive, gleaming, state-of-the-art kitchen. Tinka tried hard not to drool as Sam gave them the tour. She basically hadn’t seen a real, functioning kitchen in months, but Sam’s kitchen was so much more than functioning. It had two sinks and an island and a double oven and, wow, was that a Majestic Pro Industrial Size and Strength Stand Mixer in brushed chrome?

  Tinka ran over and caressed the appliance’s cool metal. It was beautiful, a work of art. It belonged in a museum. “Your mixer,” she said. “I want to lick it.”

  Sam laughed. “I’m serious. The offer from the other day stands. Anytime you want to bake something.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  Sam led the group down to the beach where they found Sam’s little sister, Maddie, and her nanny building sandcastles. A pontoon boat and two canoes were tethered to the dock, and a large cabana sat off to one side.

  “This is paradise, Sam,” Karen said.

  Tinka snuck a peek over at her mom and dad’s house. They’d been so busy with the inside of the house, they’d neglected the outside almost entirely. The grass was in desperate need of mowing and the weeds were starting to take over. That was the problem with her parents’ place. There was always something to do, something to take care of. It was impossible to relax there.

  As the waves lapped the shore of the Andersons’ little private beach and Jane and Karen spread a king-size comforter over the sand, Tinka peeled off her cover-up. She blushed when she noticed Sam checking her out in her indigo bikini.

  H
e wasn’t so bad, either. Tinka found herself imagining what it’d be like to hug him, to snuggle up on the couch under a blanket with his strong arm around her shoulders. She was willing to bet it’d be pretty nice. He’d make a good real boyfriend for someone someday.

  Before they’d come out to the beach, Sam, as promised, had changed out of his fancy gear and into another of his movie shirts. Tinka didn’t understand this one. “A hot dog and a house?”

  Sam glanced down at his midsection. “From the all-female Ghostbusters movie?”

  “Haven’t seen it,” Tinka said.

  “It’s good. Better than advertised.” He grinned. “We should watch it sometime.”

  They should, and they should snuggle up together on his couch. Tinka blushed. She had to stop thinking like that. This was a fake relationship. Fake. And she had sworn off guys. But if they had to cuddle a little to prove their devotion to each other… “Yeah. Okay.”

  He grinned and his eyes stayed on her for a moment. Then he turned to the other girls. Jane was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, and Karen had busted out her thick book of New York Times crossword puzzles. “What do you ladies want to do?”

  “Canoe!” Jane said.

  Karen’s upper lip curled into a slight snarl. “I’m good.”

  Here was Tinka’s big moment to prove she was able to put someone else’s needs before her own. (Even though, honestly, she wasn’t too keen on canoeing, which seemed like an accident waiting to happen—she pictured herself getting slapped in the head with a paddle—and, besides, she wasn’t supposed to get her stitches wet, but Karen didn’t need to know that.) “How about if we take the pontoon boat out instead? That way we can all stick together, and Karen can bring her puzzles along.”

  Karen’s eyes met Tinka’s for a quick moment, so fast it barely happened. “Works for me.”

  They each grabbed a few pops from the cabana and headed onto the boat. Sam undid the rope on the pier, as Jane took a spot along the edge for maximum sunlight. Karen grabbed a seat next to her, and Tinka occupied the swivel chair next to Sam’s captain seat.