8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Patrick
“Hoo boy,” Marcy muttered beside me.
I cast her a panicked look. I wasn’t used to this much panic in my life. “What do we do now?” I shot a maniacal whisper at her.
“We still need to tell them,” she fired back in a quiet hiss with equal urgency. “Your campaign is announcing the engagement tomorrow.”
I leaned closer. “This makes us look bad. Like we’re all pairing up to get the money.”
She gave me an incredulous look. “We are .”
“But we don’t want it to look that way.”
“What are you two whispering about?” her nonna asked.
I straightened in my seat. “Just discussing—”
“We’re engaged too,” Marcy blurted. She held up her own ring to model for the table.
This…was not the best plan.
“I’m sorry, what .” Marcy’s dad did not ask a question. The what was a statement. An I dare you to say that again statement.
No one spoke. Fearing the worst from her grandmother, I glanced in Matteo’s direction. My longest running friendship. He’d see right through this. He had to .
Matteo scrolled his phone. Was he even listening?
Roxanna continued to wave her hand around, soaking up the attention. Unless Robby got an insane employee discount at the Costco jewelry counter, no way that huge rock was real.
Marcy raised her chin, looking across the table at her father. “To clarify, we are also engaged. We have been secretly dating for six months and didn’t tell any of you because it was awkward and embarrassing, and we didn’t know how the guys would take it since it sort of freaked us out too when we realized we had bottled up feelings for each other that exploded in emotion one day beyond our control.” She took a breath. “Not in a like, sexual way. I mean, yes, but not like sexual sexual. It was very chaste. We kissed, is what I’m saying. We kissed each other—”
“Hold on, hold on,” Matteo’s hands flew up, thankfully cutting off the flow of wordage spewing from Marcy’s mouth. He looked between us and his brother. “Are you telling me you two knuckleheads are both engaged?”
I sucked in a breath. I’d rehearsed nine different ways to break the news to him, each with varying levels of detail, all lies. I couldn’t get around the lies.
“And you’re getting your trust money at the same time as me?” Matteo continued. “On my birthday?”
“Sure seems that way.” Mr. Russo grunted as he flagged down a waiter. “Excuse me? Red house wine, please. Bring the bottle.”
Marcy’s mother looked lightly shaken, not stirred. A little excited even. “You and Patrick? For six months?”
But the real test was Nonna Russo. I chanced a look her way. Indirectly, of course.
She stared right at me. Smiling, but staring.
I tested a grin. “Six whole months.”
She tilted her chin the same way Marcy did. “Oh, I’m sure it’s been longer than that.”
Panic panic panic. “Wha? Uh, no, just the six months— ”
She patted me on the forearm. “I’ve been watching you two for years. This was inevitable. But Robby and Roxanna.” Her voice heightened to a new register. “Now this I’m quite interested in. Those song lyrics must have really done the trick, Robby.”
I turned toward Marcy. “I think she’s buying it,” I spoke low, quiet, and fast. “About us, I mean.” Never mind the whole inevitable part. Wishful thinking.
Marcy, having said her piece, appeared at a loss for words. She gestured toward Robby and Roxanna. “How is that possible?”
“I know. Did you hear her laugh?”
Marcy kicked me under the table.
“What?” That laugh was something else. Like a boat horn with the croup.
“Well, what a treat to be celebrating a double engagement ,” Nonna exclaimed in a measured tone. “I certainly did not expect this. I can hardly believe it.”
Marcy’s dad, now with a glass of wine, took a swig. “Yeah, we can’t either.”
“I’m concerned,” her mother said. “I don’t want you kids rushing into marriage just to unlock that money.”
A totally reasonable statement.
“Money? What money?” Roxanna swiveled toward Robby. “What does she mean about money?”
Robby shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
His poker face had always been bad. Worse than bad.
“ Robby ,” Roxanna pressed.
Robby’s face flushed. He cracked his knuckles. Three, two, one—
“Okay, there’s trust fund money up for grabs if I get married,” he confessed. “It’s all quite coincidental.”
Roxanna pouted. “Is this how your band can afford to go on tour?”
“Band?” Marcy’s dad blurted. “What band? ”
Robby’s mouth formed a thin line. Matteo burst out laughing. “Robby’s a solo artist. Because no one wants to be a band with him!”
“Stop being rude,” her mother scolded.
“Can I crawl under the table now?” Marcy asked me. “It looks nice and dark under there.”
I felt for Robby. He was a good guy at the core. A terrible liar—not a bad trait. I knew he meant well. He probably really liked Roxanna. But proposing? He’d never mentioned her, and we hung out regularly.
Then again, Robby could say the same for me. Worse, since I was engaged to his sister. And our dating was a lie. All of this was a lie.
But the story had now been dumped out there. While not the best execution, we had at least completed the first step of the plan.
Speaking of dumped—we were down to one pending engagement in the Russo family.
Moments ago, Roxanna stood and left the table in a huff. Robby, flustered, shouted, “Thanks a lot, Dad! ” and ran after her.
Beside me, Nonna Russo sipped her ice water. “No one can ever convince me that money doesn’t change people.” She cut a glance to me. “Thoughts, Patrick?”
Was it hot in here? I was definitely warm. “I uh…”
She smiled. “I don’t worry about you and the trust money. You and Marcy have been gone for each other for years. I’m only glad you’ve both now realized it.”
We progressed through dinner. Robby returned, alone, and ordered a full rack of ribs with a side of spaghetti .
Matteo steered the conversation toward himself, sharing stories from work at the dealership and declaring he’d invest the trust money after he bought a new set of rims. I tried catching his eye a few times, but he darted his focus elsewhere. We needed to talk. Somehow, without spilling the truth.
Beside me, Marcy ate her dinner with no further secret looks or kicks under the table. I had no idea what she was thinking.
Did I mess up? Should we be talking about the engagement? Her family seemed to buy our relationship despite the Robby/Roxanna debacle.
The campaign. I should tell them what our engagement meant related to me running for office. After all, Marcy would be swept up in the campaign as my fiancée soon enough.
During a lull in the conversation, Mrs. Russo looked our way. “Marcy, you’re quiet. Are you…worried we’ll be upset about you and Patrick?”
Marcy’s head popped up. “Worried? Why would I—no. I mean, yes.” She took a breath. “I kept this from you all because I wanted our relationship to be about us and no one else.”
Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Your Papá and I never pressured you into a relationship.” She looked pointedly toward her mother-in-law. “ I’ve been very intentional not to do that.”
Nonna Russo continued to cut into her chicken Parmesan as she spoke. “I only want what’s best for the grandchildren and provided suggestions along the way. Sometimes this generation needs a little nudge, is all.”
Mr. Russo set down his fork. “Are you suggesting you baited my daughter with this money so you could push her into marriage?” He grabbed his fork again and pointed at his mother with it. “Even for you, that is too much. Too far. I won’t have it!”
“Oh, stop trying to scold me. These children have free will. I can’t interfere with that. ”
“If anyone was persuasive with Marcy, it was me,” I blurted, hoping the bright tone of my voice served as a distraction. “I will…benefit from having Marcy at my side for the campaign. I know it’s just a small-town mayor gig, but I love Birchwood Hills and I’m committed to making lasting change there. We needed to make our engagement public, and telling you all was the first and most important step.”
Marcy glanced at me. She appeared relieved and gave me a weak smile.
“Is that what all this is about?” Matteo finally addressed me directly. “Like, campaign stuff?”
More than he knew. But we had to sell the lie. “The timing yes, but the dating, er, the being with your sister is, um.” I coughed. Could they crank up a humidifier in here?
A flash of hurt crossed Matteo’s face, but he quickly adjusted. “It’s all good. We all grow up, I guess.”
We all grow up…and marry his sister? No way Matteo was all good with this, but he wouldn’t make me feel bad about it in front of everyone. He’d matured enough over the years to choose his battles.
“You know, if you needed extra cash, I’ve got a side gig that’s easy money,” he said. “Lots easier than trying to run some dorky town.”
I flinched. “It’s not for the money.” Matteo and I couldn’t be more different, but that was what I’d always liked about him. We usually managed to have fun and sometimes even covered meaningful topics other than cars. “I’m interested in supporting the community. I’m determined to do it on my own terms. That’s why Marcy’s role is so important.”
Mrs. Russo beamed. “So it’s true then? You two are really engaged? Because you want to?”
I looked at Marcy. I didn’t have to force the answer. “Yes.”
She looked into my eyes, all her focus centered on me. “Yes. ”
My heart ceased to beat. I didn’t care that this wasn’t real. Right now, our engagement was as real as it could be. Who cared if it was only to convince her family? Marcy saying yes made me the happiest I’d ever been.
Marcy’s mom squealed. She jumped up and circled the table to Marcy, hugging her daughter in her seat. “My baby’s getting married!”
“Hey, I’m the baby,” Robby ground out through a mouthful of food.
Not quite the brag he thought that was, but whatever.
“We need to plan an engagement party!” her mother gushed.
“ No ,” Marcy and I responded at the same time.
She stood back from her daughter. “The family will expect a party.”
Marcy shook her head. “This, tonight. This can be the party. See? All immediate family is here.”
“Hey—I thought this was my birthday dinner?” Matteo whined.
“We’ll throw a nice big party and it can double as a campaign event for Patrick.” Nonna Russo declared. “After all, he’s my future grandson-in-law.”
“Uh—” I started to protest when Marcy’s mother’s hug descended on me. “I couldn’t be happier it’s you, Patrick.” She enveloped me in her arms and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’ve always hoped it would be you.”
Beyond her, a wide-eyed Marcy stared back in horror.