6. Catherine
Chapter six
Catherine
I frown at Grandma. She’s holding her sides from laughing so hard.
“It’s not funny,” I insist. “How did she even manage to worm her way to seeing him? Not to mention she’s dating a man the same age as her daughter.”
I’ve just finished telling her about June and Crimson. Her response is just to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
It’s not very absurd from where I’m sitting.
“No, I’m just imagining how she’s going to react once everyone wises up to her age. She’s going to be upset every time someone referred to her as Crimson’s ‘older’ girlfriend.” Grandma wipes her eyes, still chuckling.
“I suppose you think it’s stupid that I quit my job over this, too,” I say.
I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. The truth is, I’m doubting myself on that front. Is it really such a big deal?
Then I think of how I’d end up in close proximity to my mother for who knows how long. She had already started to worm her way into meetings Crimson and I had.
Nope. Better to leave before she could start making me lose my cool at work.
I fall sideways on the old, worn couch.
“Now I have no job, nobody’s answering my resumes, and I don’t know what to do next.” I gaze miserably at the open ceiling.
George is finishing up other rooms that need the insulation or new siding or whatever it is before he comes back to this one.
“Catherine, you’ve been running full speed ahead your entire life,” Grandma says. “You can stay here as long as you need. And don’t you worry about money, between my pension and savings, I’m more than comfortable.”
I give her a tentative smile under my arm. “But doesn’t it make me pathetic, moving in with my grandma when I’m in my thirties?”
Grandma scoffs. “Please! You’ve moved in to be closer to your fiancé and to help out your poor old granny. What’s pathetic about that?”
I’m distracted by the sparkly gem on my finger.
Engaged to George Callahan. I don’t have to wear the ring at home, but I’m trying to get used to it.
Part of me wants to phone up June and tell her I’m engaged. The bitter part of me wants to mockingly tell her we can have a double wedding.
I shake my head, throwing those thoughts out.
“Thank you, Grandma. I love you.”
“I love you, too, dear.” Grandma’s mirth fades as she gazes at me. “But you ought to know that June called me last night, asking for you.”
Tension sweeps through me. I bolt upright on the couch, my hands clenching into fists.
“I didn’t tell her anything. Didn’t even confirm you were here,” she says quickly.
“Thank you. I don’t want to talk to her.” I shake my head emphatically. “I don’t want to hear about whatever is going on in her life.”
The truth is, I can’t help but wonder if she thought about me at all when she decided to date Crimson.
On the other hand, I can’t imagine her considering how this would affect my job and my life.
On the other, the bitter part of me says she did it on purpose.
I’ve rarely talked to her since she left me on Grandma’s doorstep at five years old. Mostly because she rarely answers the phone.
I let out a shaky breath. Wasting energy being angry with my mother does nothing for my current situation.
“Well, now you know what’s happening and how jobless I am,” I say, trying to sound upbeat again. “Let’s see. What other gossip can I share with you?”
Grandma gives me a wicked grin. “Have you and George kissed yet?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Grandma!”
“Have you? You can’t fake-engagement without kissing at least once,” she warns. “And passionately. If you want to trick the town, you two need to be wrapped around each other like worms on a fishhook.”
“Ugh!” I grab a pillow and pull it over my face. “You don’t have to be so graphic. I’m not wrapping around anything. Besides, you are supposed to see us as your grandkids. You’re meant to be weirded out by the idea of us kissing.”
Grandma continues to chuckle. “That’s not how this works, Catherine. So. Have you two practiced kissing?”
“No!”
“You should. Especially before you have to have dinner with the Callahan’s.”
I drop the pillow and jump to my feet. “This conversation is over. I’m going out to the tide pools.”
“Take some water with you,” Grandma says, still chuckling.
With a groan, I drag myself upstairs. I pull on a bathing suit, then a white lacy cover-up. Paired with a wide-brimmed hat and a drawstring bag I fill with water, sunscreen, and a notebook, I head out.
The day is hot. Even though it’s not far to the tide pools, I’m sweating by the time I get there.
I put my things near the base of the largest one and wade knee-deep into the ocean. The contrast between the water and the air quickly cools me down.
After slathering on the sunscreen, I find a place in the rocky outcropping where the rock is flat and gives me a backrest.
There, I start making lists in my notebook. They’re not about anything in particular. A list of things I can see, a list of things I want to accomplish, a list of possibilities
The repetitive nature of writing calms me.
When I’ve moved to a list of all the jobs I can think of—from grocery cashier to CEO—George calls out to me.
I look up to find him walking over the golden sand. He’s wearing knee-length blue shorts and a white button-down with geometric designs on the sleeves and down the front. Sunglasses shield his eyes but his hair ruffles in the breeze.
He looks like a dream.
And that annoys me.
“Lynn told me to bring you some water,” he says as he draws near. He offers me an insulated thermos.
I point to my bag. “I brought a bunch.”
“Ah. Well.” George opens the thermos and takes a swallow. “You’re not planning on swimming out here by yourself, are you?”’
“Nope. Just wading a little bit.”
George sucks on his teeth. “Lynn’s rubbing off on me. Right now I’m fighting the urge to warn you about the dangers of swimming alone.”
My lips press together. “I just told you I’m not doing that.”
“Hence the whole Lynn rubbing off on me thing. She’s constantly telling me to be careful about riptides and the like.” George leans against the rocks, gazing in at the tidal pools.
I can’t write my lists while he’s here, so I close the notebook.
After some time, George clears his throat. “I want to introduce you to my parents as my fiancée. If we’re playing this to help with the Crimson rumors, we need to launch our relationship sooner rather than later. But we need to tell my parents first.”
“Right. About that.”
George looks back at me. His expression is open and clear. “Have you changed your mind?”
“About our fake engagement?” My mind flips to Grandma’s question about kissing. Hopefully, George will think the redness in my cheeks is because of the heat. “No. I don’t have any better ideas at this point.”
“Is there a problem, then?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
“For one thing, Grandma is getting too into this,” I grumble.
George laughs.
I can’t help but smile along. “Honestly, I’m worried about what your parents will think about those pictures that have surfaced.”
The ones of my mom making out with Crimson.
The thought makes my gut twist.
She’s not that much older than I am. She was only seventeen when I was born. If it wasn’t my boss she’d decided to date, I’d be judgy about the age gap but not upset.
After all, both are established adults.
I just hate that she has pulled me into her life again.
And that stupid picture! Her natural shade of hair is lighter than mine, but it looks like she dyed and styled it like me.
So yeah. From the angle the picture is taken, it looks like me.
The fact that she’s copying my look makes this whole situation even more unbearable.
“I’m going to tell them it’s not you. The media has misidentified you and this whole thing is a misunderstanding,” George answers promptly.
“And what if they tell you I’m a lying scamp?”
George laughs. “For one thing, they’d never say ‘scamp.’ But that’s what we’ll stick to. And that’s all they need to know.”
I’m not sure how to answer that.
It honestly kind of blows my mind that George isn’t demanding more information about this whole situation.
Maybe he doesn’t care.
Or maybe it’s all for Grandma’s sake.
“Are you sure about this?” I blurt. “Aren’t you afraid that it will all blow up in our faces?”
“It will be dramatic if it does,” George says.
I fold my arms. “You can withstand it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Um, yes? You’re well-liked, you’re successful, and you look like a movie star. You could kill someone, and the town would make excuses for you,” I say, shaking my head.
George’s eyes widen slightly.
Uh-oh.
I just admitted that I think he’s handsome.
Great, now he can use that against me.
He clears his throat and looks aside. “Well. My mother certainly would have a hard time rearranging the furniture in my jail cell.”
I can’t help it. I snort.
He reaches over and puts his hand on mine. The weight of it is comforting, even though I’m getting a little too hot for physical contact.
“It won’t blow up in our faces. That is, so long as you don’t give everything away,” he teases.
“Oh, so you think I’m the one that will give it away?” I stuff my notebook into my bag and grab out my water. “Ha! You’re far more likely to fumble up than I am.”
George’s eyes sparkle. “Is that so?”
“It is.” My water has gone warm, but I don’t care. I gulp it down.
Probably because my mouth’s gone so dry.
It’s the heat. That’s why. Nothing else.
“Want to make this interesting?” George asks. “Two hundred dollars says that I can be more convincing as your fiancé than you can as my fiancée.”
I finish off my bottle. “Ha! That’s an easy two hundred for me. You’ve got a bet.”
George holds his hand out, still smirking.
I gaze at his hand, then a slow smirk grows over my face. “Oh, you think so, do you?”
“How are you going to play this if you can’t even shake my hand?” he asks.
“You misunderstand.”
My heart starts pounding. Because of the heat.
Grandma’s teasing from earlier comes back to me.
And she’s right. Fake dating is one of my favorite genres of romance. And no, this wasn’t going to end with George and I falling in love.
But…
But kissing always comes up. People don’t buy you as a couple if you don’t lip lock at least once.
“A handshake is no way for an engaged couple to act.” I lean forward, tilting my face up to him. “Let’s seal this bet with a kiss, shall we?”
George leans back.
Um.
Okay. I pushed too far.
George takes off his sunglasses. His eyes rove over my face, scrutinizing me.
“You’re right,” he says. “Score one for Catherine. A real engaged couple kisses all the time.”
“Just don’t slobber all over my face this time,” I warn him.
George looks affronted. “I think I’ve learned a few things about kissing since then.”
He puts his arm around me, pulling me tight against him. My heart thrums.
There’s little preamble. He leans in, brushing his lips to mine, then pauses. His eyes meet mine, checking to make sure it’s still alright.
I nod and he kisses me.
It’s light and sweet.
My knees go weak.
I lean into his embrace, sighing as our kiss lingers.
George’s arms tighten briefly before he releases me. He nods, looking distracted. “Right. I should get to work. Here’s the water.”
He puts the thermos on the rocks and quickly walks away.
I have to sit down, still feeling shaky from the kiss.
Er… no. Not the kiss.
It’s the heat.
I’m not developing feelings for George.
Nope.
Absolutely not.