7. George
Chapter seven
George
Mom looks as though she’s about to burst into tears. “Oh, Georgie! I thought we raised you better than this. How could you?”
I expected this and so gave nothing away in my expression. “You can’t insult my fiancé like this, Mom.”
“But she’s not even making dinner!” Mom presses both her hands to her face, shaking her head slowly. “I know she’s become one of those city women, but I thought you had more sense than this.”
“Leave the boy alone,” Dad says. He’s sitting in his normal place in front of the TV.
Mom whirls on him. “And how am I supposed to look that scamp in the eye when I know she’s cheating on my boy?”
Well, that’s an apology I have to make to Catherine. Apparently, ‘scamp’ is part of my mother’s vocabulary after all.
“She’s just pulled in. Be nice,” I warn.
Now that the time to have dinner with Catherine and my parents has arrived, I’m doubting this plan.
Oh, they buy that we’re engaged.
But I’m just concerned about how much abuse I’ve set Catherine up for.
I go to greet her at the door, silently vowing that I won’t allow my parents to get out of line.
If they start being inappropriate, I’ll kick them out.
It’s so much easier to plan to stand up for Catherine than to stick up for myself.
“Mom, Dad, you remember Catherine,” I say once I escort her to the dining room.
Dad’s at the table now. He looks dismissive while my mother looks as though I’ve brought a worm into the house.
“Edwina, Jason,” Catherine greets. Her smile is warm. “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some drinks. I do hope that you like bourbon and peach wine.”
She produces the bottles.
“Oh! I adore peach wine.” Mom takes the bottle and studies it. “This is just the brand I buy. Thank you, dear.”
Dad takes the bourbon. “Looks like you got the good stuff.”
“Thank you.” Catherine’s smile never faltered. “It smells divine in here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help with the cooking, George.”
“Is Lynn feeling better?” I ask.
Once Mom started to complain about Catherine not cooking for our meal, I’d said Lynn wasn’t feeling well. I’d texted Catherine to let her in on the plan.
“Yes, thank you. It’s the heat,” she adds. “I made her some snow cones, and that seemed to help.”
I see Mom’s opinion of her shift at once. There’s just so much obvious affection Catherine has when talking about Lynn.
The dinner goes wonderfully. Catherine is bright, interested, and completely charms my parents. By the time I bring out dessert, Mom is telling her how much they look forward to having her join in with our Christmas plans.
“It’s just so wonderful that you’ll be in Sandburrow,” she continues. “You’ll be able to check in on Lynn so much more.”
“Actually, George and I are looking into having two homes,” Catherine answers. “One here and an apartment in the city. I’ll still have my work to do, after all. But that’s still something we’re working out, isn’t it?”
She reaches across the table and takes my hand, giving me a stunning smile.
My parents give each other side-eyes. As my mom opens her mouth, Catherine lets out a soft gasp.
“Oh! I nearly forgot.” She leaps up and rushes to her purse. “You both like that country singer Tria Sherwood, right?”
“We do,” Dad says with a confused nod.
Catherine waltzes back over and slides two tickets across the table. “I have a couple of tickets for her show up in the city. Would you like them?”
Mom and Dad both look like they’d died and gone to heaven.
“Now where did you get these?” Mom exclaims. “It must have cost you a fortune!”
Catherine laughs. “Not at all. It’s one of the perks of my business. My client, Crimson, is actually Tria’s cousin’s grandson. I’ve had these tickets kicking around for a couple months now. I have a hotel booked for three days that I already switched over to your names.”
“Now that is just too much,” Mom says as her hands curl around the tickets.
“I’m not going to use it and it’s too late to get a refund,” Catherine says. “Honestly. It’ll just go to waste if you don’t accept it.”
Mom and Dad both look like kids at Christmas. I think Dad is about to burst into tears.
“You are a real angel, aren’t you?” he says to Catherine. “It’s so nice to see that you take after your grandmother.”
Catherine’s smile freezes.
Unlike your mother.
The words Dad doesn’t say hang in the air.
“It’s going to be great for you two to get out of town,” I say quickly, jumping to my feet. I start collecting the dirty dishes.
“It will indeed,” Mom agrees. “You know, we haven’t gone anywhere for ages! This is just the sweetest thing, Catherine.”
Catherine gets up to help me. “It’s no trouble at all. Honestly. Don’t think anything of it.”
“Yessiree, you’re the spitting image of Lynn,” Dad says.
I quickly interject. “Speaking of Lynn, you probably need to get home to her, don’t you?”
Catherine shoots me a grateful look. “I should at least give her a call. Grandma isn’t as young as she once was, after all.”
“Oh, yes! You can’t leave Lynn on her own for too long if she’s feeling poorly.” Mom tuts as she starts to gather up the dishes, taking them out of my hand. “Georgie, why don’t you walk Cat to her car? Your father and I will clean up here.”
Dad gives her a startled look. “We will?”
“Yes.” She narrows her eyes.
Dad wrinkles his nose. “I guess we will.”
Catherine and I protest just enough to be polite about it, but soon we’re outside. Once we’re at her car, I open her door for her.
“Thanks for the tickets,” I tell her softly.
“It’s no problem. I thought it might be good to get your parents out of your hair, but in a way that gives them something to enjoy at the same time.”
“It’s definitely something they appreciate. And I do, too.” I lean against the side of her car.
Catherine gives me a mischievous look. “Don’t be fooled, though. This isn’t one of the ways to get them off your back. It’s a stopgap measure at best.”
“A stopgap?”
“Oh, yes. You can’t set boundaries with someone by bribing them. If you start off by going out of your way to please someone, they will take that as the norm. This,” she gestures toward the house. “Is for the sole sake of leveling the playing field.”
I try to keep up with her but can’t.
“Where did you get those tickets anyway?” I ask instead.
“Crimson. I wasn’t lying.” Catherine tilts her head, letting her hair fall to the side. “That’s another lesson for you. You get away more with telling the truth than coming up with elaborate lies.”
“Oh, and what about going along with someone else’s elaborate lie?” I counter.
She shrugs. “That, I suppose, depends on how desperate you are.”
I chuckle, amused at her antics. “I’m grateful that you happen to have tickets for a concert featuring my parents’ favorite singer. And for you to just happen to have a hotel room for them and everything.”
“Hey, it’s not like I want to go back to the city when I’m keeping a low profile,” she says. Then a grimace crosses her face. “Especially not when it means staying in a hotel and going to a concert that Crimson paid for.”
Ah, yes. I can see how that would be more fodder for the tabloids.
“You are doing okay, though, right?” I ask her, moving a little closer.
Catherine smiles, nodding. “Yeah. I’m staying off social media and focusing on helping Grandma around the house. And trying to convince her not to try to do the drywalling herself.”
Horror shoots through me. “She’s not, is she?”
“Luckily, I was able to point out that one of her flowerbeds is getting a little overgrown. We spent the day weeding and pruning instead.” Catherine laughs. “By the way, your parents are spying on us.”
I turn. Sure enough, the curtains in the kitchen flutter shut the moment I catch them.
“Hmm. Seems like we need to give them something to spy on,” I tease.
“Sure thing.” Catherine’s smile becomes stiff. “This is when that kissing practice comes in handy.”
“That’s what it was?” I cup her face in my hand.
“Of course.”
I close the distance between us. Her lips are soft and warm. She smells like roses, and it drives me crazy.
Unlike yesterday on the beach, I don’t lose myself in the kiss.
Not with my parents watching.
So the kiss remains short. I long for more once we step back from each other.
I wave Catherine off and go back to the house.
Back inside, Dad settles himself in front of the TV. “That Catherine is quite a girl.”
“I agree,” Mom gushes. “Such a lovely young woman! I’m sure all this business in the tabloids is just a misunderstanding.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I say.
I grin, pleased with the evening. Success is ours!