8. Catherine
Chapter eight
Catherine
The morning after the dinner with George’s parents, I wake up nice and early.
It’s perfectly natural for me. I’ve always been an early bird. I don’t enjoy sleeping in, except when I’m sick.
Today, the dim grey of dawn is still hanging in the sky. I lie in bed, staring out of my window. The pale blue curtains waft in the sea salt breeze.
It’s times like this that I forget why I don’t like Sandburrow.
It’s just so relaxing, lying here while the birds start to wake up outside. The sound of the ocean is a constant lull in the background.
I understand why Grandma loves this place so much.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t take me long to get restless.
I get up and go make a pot of coffee only to find that we’re out of creamer. Grandma gets up shortly after and she sighs.
“I suppose I need to go into town and get some groceries. But I was hoping to get my tomato plants staked up,” she groans.
“I’ll do your tomato plants for you,” I volunteer.
Grandma pats my hand. “That’s nice of you, dear. But I’d rather do it myself. Why don’t you go into town?”
I nod my agreement. This is probably better for both of us.
After I go through all the cupboards and freezers—Grandma has three, one that works and two that she uses as storage—I’ve made a menu plan for the week and a list of the groceries I need.
And a new project. I’ll have to find a way to start getting rid of the boxes of cereal in Grandma’s food storage that were outdated five years ago.
I’ll have to recruit George to help me with that. Grandma lived through the Great Depression and grew up in poverty.
It’s only natural that she hoards food now.
That also makes it more difficult to convince her that she doesn’t need so much, though.
Sandburrow is a cute little town, I’ll give it that. So many old brick buildings that give it real character. The more modern buildings are all brightly colored.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to enjoy the aesthetics of the town.
“Catherine Hart, is that you?” a blonde-haired soccer mom squeals as she hugs me.
It takes me a moment to place her. Jessica Johnson. She was a friend I had for a few months in high school.
“How are you doing?” Jessica asks. “Oh, silly me. I’ve seen your picture all over the internet. What are you doing here? Did you bring Crimson to visit your grandmother?”
She looks over my shoulder as though searching for the pop star.
“No, Crimson and I aren’t dating,” I say quickly. “It’s not me in the pictures.”
Jessica frowns, her gaze returning to me. “It certainly looks like you.”
“I know, but it’s not.”
She taps her chin, eyeing me. “Oh, really? Who is it, then? If it’s not you, you must know who it is.”
Great.
I start looking around, hoping that Godzilla will suddenly appear and go on a rampage.
That’s about the only thing I can see saving me from this situation.
“Catherine,” a voice calls behind me.
I turn, relief washing through me.
I’ve never been so relieved to see someone I’m pretending to be engaged to before.
“George. I didn’t expect to see you today,” I blurt. “I thought you were going to be on site today.”
“I’m picking up some lunch for the crew,” he answers as he steps up to my side. He presses a kiss to my temple and smiles pleasantly at a dumbfounded Jessica. “Jess. Been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
Jessica’s eyes are so wide they’re bugging from her head. “Oh! It has been a while. Um. I was just asking Catherine about…”
Her eyes bug out even more when George takes my hand and kisses it. Our fingers twine, but he turns my hand in such a way that my ring is obvious.
“I was asking about, you know, that stuff about the, um… well, this business with Crimson,” Jessica says, sounding like she swallowed a frog.
“Oh, that.” George laughs. “It sure looks like her from the back, doesn’t it? Wonder who it’ll turn out to be.”
And as easy as that, he leads me past Jessica.
It’s over as simple as that.
No trying to explain, no insisting it’s not me.
Just… over.
I gaze at George with admiration. “How do you do that?”
He kisses my hand again. “Simple. Act like it’s nothing and people will think it’s nothing.”
“Except your parents?”
He winks. “Yeah. Except for my parents.”
***
George comes out to Grandma’s place after we’re done shopping. He planned to do so already, needing to pick up some tools he’d left here.
“Are you sure your crew isn’t going to be waiting for you?” I ask when he helps me carry in the groceries.
“I’m sure,” he says. “They don’t expect me back for another hour, anyway.”
Grandma is in the garden bed, puttering around. She waves at us but doesn’t come inside.
In the kitchen, George starts helping me to put the groceries away.
This makes me blush. “I’m good. Really. You don’t have to do this.”
“We need to spend more time together. Out in town specifically. If the good people of Sandburrow are going to dismiss the rumors about you, they need to see that we’re madly in love,” George says.
I grimace as I think of the way Jessica came at me earlier.
He’s right about that.
But it reminds me…
“I suppose I need to thank you for rescuing me,” I say reluctantly.
George gives me an amused look. “You mean from Jessica?”
“Yes, I mean from Jessica. You didn’t see the way she was looking at me before you arrived.” I shudder.
“I did see. I also know Jess is bored as hell in her marriage and is constantly looking for new sources of drama,” George answers. “If anyone would start getting the word that we’re to be married out, it’s her.”
The sparkly ring on my finger eases some of the tension in my belly.
“I’m not sure that this is going to be enough,” I say.
George puts the last of the groceries away. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I need to find someplace to volunteer. To get my image back into a positive light.” I frown as I consider it. “You having proposed to me is enough to stop people from saying things to my face. But I don’t want everyone to think I’m cheating on you.”
“So you want to tell everyone what’s really going on?” he prods carefully.
“Ew, no!”
George snorts. “Ew?”
I glare at him. “Ew.”
“That’s… not what I expected.” Curiosity burns in his eyes. To my surprise, he doesn’t demand answers. Instead, he strokes his clean-shaven chin. “The museum always needs volunteers. I’m sure they would be able to find something for you to do.”
“The museum.”
I consider it. If I’m honest, I don’t really understand museums. The past always seems like such a bleak place.
Why should we put so much effort into preserving it?
“I didn’t even know Sandburrow had a museum,” I say aloud.
George laughs. “The better for a promoter like you to volunteer there!”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.
Volunteering will look good on my resume. After everything that happened, I could use a little polish.
“I guess I’ll check it out,” I say with a nod.
Since I haven’t heard anything back from potential jobs so far, I need to revamp my resume again. Once I have some current volunteer work on there, it’ll show that I don’t like to stand still.
I can’t stay in Sandburrow forever.
Grandma might have an open-door policy, but that doesn’t mean I can just sit here and rot. There are only so many weeds I can pull before I start feeling stuck.
“You want me to call Ginny at the museum and put a good word in for you?” George asks.
I shake my head hard. “I need to be able to promote myself, too. But thanks. This is going to work out nicely, I think.”
I hope.
George grabs his tools and heads out then.
I call Grandma in from the outside and make us both some lunch. Volunteering at the museum. It could be fun.
“With any luck, it will help me get a new job,” I tell Grandma. “Nobody wants to hire a woman who is accused of having an affair with her boss.”
Grandma grunts. “You could ask Crimson and June to make their relationship public. Then nobody can use those rumors against you.”
That would mean I’d have to talk to them, though.
The thought makes me nauseated.
“I’m going to try this volunteering thing first,” I say. Then I add, “Besides, George and I have only started our fake engagement. You haven’t enjoyed enough drama from it yet.”
Grandma’s eyes gleam. “That’s right. I haven’t.”
Uh, oh.
What have I done?