20. An Engagementa Secret Cult?
AN ENGAGEMENT OR A SECRET CULT?
WILLOW
I pace back and forth across the room, mentally listing everything I need Nana to avoid tonight. Top of the list: no special talks with Gramps. The last thing I want is for Raymond to think we’re a trio of crazy women. And then there’s Quill. Sweet, precious Quill. The idea of Nana’s wrath unfolding in front of her makes me physically cringe.
My fingers press into my temples as I scramble for a solution, trying to figure out how to steer this dinner away from total disaster.
“Alright, here’s the plan,” I announce, stopping mid-step. “We’ll tell them Quill has a last-minute school thing. Easy excuse. Agreed?”
I hold out my hand for a shake, but Raymond stares at it. Again! Seriously, what is this man’s deal with handshakes?
Then, like he’s reading my mind, the corner of his mouth quirks up in that maddening half smile. Finally, he reaches out. But instead of shaking my hand, he…holds it.
“Quill already has one overprotective parent, Willow. She doesn’t need another.”
My eyes snap to his, wide with shock. His expression mirrors mine, like even he’s surprised at what came out of his mouth. I wait for him to backpedal, to explain. He doesn’t. Instead, he leans in with something else entirely.
“Her therapist said if I had my way, Quill never would’ve gone on that Ferris wheel. And then she wouldn’t have spoken to you. I’ve been thinking about that moment a lot. Maybe it’s my fear manifesting in her silence.”
His fingers tighten around mine, the movement so subtle I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. And for the umpteenth time, I’m floored by this man who carries the reputation of The Shark but softens to something unrecognizable when it comes to his daughter.
“I’m not going to hold her back anymore,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Anyway, it’s not like she’s walking into a battlefield. She’s just visiting your family and we’ll be there with her.”
There it is again. We.
But what Raymond doesn’t understand is that Nana could put an army general to shame. If he thinks this is going to be a peaceful visit, he’s got another thing coming.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead. “I need to protect you both. Okay.” I exhale sharply, surrendering to the inevitable. “You should know one thing. Yes, she’s my grandmother, and I love her dearly, but there’s a strong chance she might actually be from another planet.”
Raymond chuckles, his deep voice vibrating in a way that makes me forget my nerves for a second. “Duly noted.”
* * *
“Willow, we can’t stand here forever.” Raymond nods toward the door, balancing a box of homemade cookies that magically appeared this afternoon. When I asked where they came from, he said his mom sent them the second she heard he was visiting my parents.
Cue my heart doing that weird stutter-step thing it’s been doing far too often lately. Because…we are treading into some seriously dangerous territory.
I glance down at Quill. She looks like a little fairy in her pink dress with little embroidered butterflies, clutching a bouquet of flowers so big it nearly swallows her. Meanwhile, I’m over here channeling full-on bodyguard mode, ready to shield these two from whatever verbal grenades Nana might throw their way.
“My mom could totally be adopted,” I say for the millionth time, turning to Raymond, who is so laid back right now that I think he’s a different man altogether.
“Got it, Willow. Now let’s move before your neighbors call the cops because they think we’re a family kidnapping your mother and grandmother.”
Family. The word hits harder than I’d like, sticking in my chest like a burr. Before I can unpack it, the door swings open.
“I thought I heard someone. What are you doing standing out here, Lolo?” Mom asks, pulling the door wide open and giving us a once-over.
“I was about to knock. I forgot my key,” I lie, because there’s no way I’m admitting the key is safely tucked in my purse while I was busy stalling.
“Oh, come on in, all of you,” Mom says, stepping aside to let us in.
As I hang my purse on the coat rack, I feel her gaze shift. It’s no longer on me but laser-focused on Raymond. And I know that look—it’s the Is he good enough for my daughter? look. I have no idea what conclusions she’s drawing, and before I can start sweating, Raymond takes a step forward.
“Hello, Miss Pershing,” Raymond says, offering his hand. Of course, he knows Mom goes by her maiden name. This is Cherrywood, and Raymond Teager is a keeper of information.
“Hello,” she replies, taking his hand with a polite smile. “Welcome to our home. I’m Stephanie. You can call me Steph. I hope this wasn’t too last minute for you.”
“Not at all. Surprisingly, both of our calendars were free,” Raymond says smoothly.
“And who’s this pretty little girl?” Mom leans forward, her earlier hesitation toward Raymond vanishing entirely as her attention shifts to Quill. Her smile is so genuine it makes me relax. A little.
“Mom, this is Quill, Raymond’s daughter.”
“Hi, honey,” Mom coos, crouching slightly. “I hope you like cupcakes, because I baked some pink ones just for you.”
The silence stretches for a beat too long, and then Quill glances up at me. I give her the most reassuring smile, even though my heart is beating frantically.
She finally turns back to Mom, signing, “I love pink cupcakes.”
Mom’s smile falters for a beat, but it’s enough for my protective instincts to kick in. I’m ready to escort the father-and-daughter duo back to the car. But then Mom’s expression softens into something warm and sincere. Her eyes shimmer a little as she says, “I’m so glad you do, sweetheart. I made lots of them. Now, come inside, and we’ll take those beautiful flowers to Willow’s nana. She’s been waiting to meet you.”
With that, she takes Quill’s hand and leads her inside like they’ve known each other forever.
“There you all are. I thought we’d have to starve waiting for you,” Nana announces dramatically, perched on her favorite spot on the couch.
“Raymond, this is my mom, Willow’s nana.” Mom gestures toward the source of my utmost strength most days. But today, she’s the one single-handedly responsible for all my stress.
“And you,” Nana declares, lifting her chin imperiously, “can call me the grand lady of the house. At least until I decide if you’re worthy enough to be my grandson-in?—”
“Nana, can I please talk to you alone?” I cut her off before she can finish that sentence.
Her eyes narrow, zeroing in on me and then they shift to Quill. Just like that, a switch flips, and suddenly Nana lights up like a teenager at a boy band concert.
“Aren’t you the cutest little button?” she gushes, her tone flipping from interrogation to sugar in a heartbeat. With a dramatic gasp, she clutches her chest. “Oh my God! I just realized—I’m a great-grandmother now!” She throws herself back onto the couch in a melodramatic faint, peeking out with one eye like she’s waiting for applause.
“Nana!” I hiss. So much for keeping Quill out of this. My gaze flicks to Raymond, whose expression is a mix of shock and mild horror. If I wasn’t so stressed, it would almost be funny.
“Mom…” I plead to the one person who might save us. She catches my silent SOS and jumps in.
“Quill, would you like to help me decorate cupcakes? That’s the last step before we can eat them.” Mom’s voice is warm and inviting, her smile genuine.
Quill glances up at Raymond and then at me, silently asking for permission. My heart clenches. How did I become someone this tiny human looks to for reassurance?
How far we’ve come in such a short time, and how far we still have to go.
I look at Raymond, half expecting his usual hesitation, but instead, he gives a soft nod, his smile easy. “It’s okay, Bug. Go with Miss Pershing,” he says gently.
As Mom guides her inside, I feel a pang of protectiveness so fierce it momentarily startles me. For the first time, I fully understand Raymond’s outburst when he saw Quill with me on that Ferris wheel the first day. Even though Quill’s not my daughter and I know how incredible my mom is with kids, I can’t ignore this nervous stirring in my chest when she’s out of sight.
“What was all that about?” Nana’s voice cuts through the moment, dragging me back.
“We haven’t told Quill about…us,” I admit.
“Most people throw engagement parties, but you two are acting like you’ve joined some secret cult. Why is that?”
“I’m sorry for putting you under this pressure—” Raymond starts, stepping forward, but Nana halts him with a raised hand like a traffic cop.
“Why don’t you start by introducing yourself properly? Because last I heard, you were the man trying to steal my husband’s land.”
I cringe, partly because I’m sure Raymond isn’t used to being interrupted, but mostly because I know Nana’s just getting started.
“My name is Raymond Teager,” he says smoothly. “Yes, I was interested in your husband’s property. It’s a truly remarkable piece of land.”
Nana’s eyebrow arches, her rapid-fire retort already locked and loaded. “I know that very well.”
Raymond doesn’t flinch. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, sincere smile. “I was shortsighted in the beginning. But the more I talked to Willow, the more I started to believe in not just your husband’s dream but also your granddaughter.”
“So, you got engaged to her for access to both,” Nana shoots back without missing a beat.
“Nana!” I groan, throwing my hands in the air. “I’m standing right here.”
“I never said you weren’t. But I want to know his intentions.”
“Intentions?” I scoff. “Are we in the eighteenth century? I’m perfectly capable of choosing a life partner.”
“Even the smartest make mistakes, Lolo. There are a few things in life where you don’t jump first and think later.”
The sound of approaching footsteps signals Mom and Quill’s return, and I quickly turn to Nana. “You can interrogate Raymond some other time, but please don’t say anything in front of Quill. She’s an absolute sweetheart.”
Nana tilts her head. “Did you marry him or his daughter? Because it seems like you care more about her.”
“That’s what I find most attractive about her,” Raymond interjects smoothly, just as Mom and Quill step back into the room.
I whip my head toward him, but he’s already walking toward the table where Mom places a plateful of cupcakes topped with too much pink icing.