Chapter 8 #2
I end the recording, then go back inside to my room.
I flip on the light, then shut the door behind me.
It’s an airy guest room with light blue walls and the same blonde wood flooring that the rest of the house has.
There’s a queen-sized bed with an all-white bedding set, including lots of throw pillows, a small wooden desk and chair, and a taupe armchair in the corner.
Dominic has brought my suitcase in and set it on the floor beside the closet for me to unpack.
Double french doors lead outside to the deck.
I cross the room and open the doors to let the breeze in, then get to work preparing my video to post. I add the hashtags: #bigsurprise, #bigannoucementcoming, #meetMisterX, and upload it to my various platforms.
Within a few minutes, I see that the video is getting views.
My regular followers start to comment about how excited they are and how they knew Mister X was real.
I thank each of them and tell them how thrilled I am to be able to finally introduce them to him.
A pang of guilt hits as I read a message from GinaFey25, a diehard fan of mine who’s been with me from the start.
Never doubted you for a second. Can’t wait to meet him.
I already know he’s amazing because he’s got you.
I shut my eyes tightly, then write back: Thanks, Gina!
You’re the best. I appreciate your faith in me.
I don’t deserve it, but I really do appreciate it.
My phone rings and my mom’s face fills the screen.
Dammit, I definitely should have called her to let her know what was going on.
She already knows Mister X isn’t real, which to her is much better than an actual boyfriend.
When my dad abandoned us, it really did a number on her.
It’s been over seventeen years and she’s still as bitter and furious as she was when she first got home from work and saw the note he left on the kitchen table.
Can’t do this anymore. Sorry. You keep the house.
I swipe to answer, saying, “I was just about to call you.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, true, but I would’ve called you as soon as I remembered that I forgot to tell you what was happening.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asks.
“Maybe?”
“Well, it doesn’t. I thought you were flying home, so I spent the entire day praying the rosary.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t, but I definitely thought about you many times, and kept waiting for a text to say you landed safely,” she says.
“Is that too much to ask? One little text saying, ‘Hey Mom, staying in Santa Valentina a little longer than expected. Now pretending to be getting married instead of going home?’”
“No, it isn’t. But to be totally honest, the whole thing happened at lightning speed and I haven’t had a moment to think.”
“You mean you haven’t had a moment to think about your mother who raised you alone and supports you no matter what you’re doing.”
She’s right. She pretty much raised me on her own, even when my dad lived with us, and she does support me no matter what.
Letting out a sigh, I say, “I am sorry, Mom. I should’ve called you, but since we’re on the phone now, why don’t I fill you in so we can pretend I called you as soon as I met Dominic? ”
“Dominic?” That means yes, we can move on. Thankfully.
“Yes, he’s an actor at the resort where Paige and I were staying.”
“A resort actor?” My mom does not sound impressed.
But to be fair, she’s hard to impress. She’s one of the head honchos at the History Museum at the Castle in Appleton, Wisconsin (where I grew up).
Among other things, she’s in charge of the Harry Houdini collection, and when you spend your days talking about a man who could make an elephant vanish, you become a little jaded about what the rest of us mortals do with our time.
“Yes, an actor. Which will work well because I need someone who can act,” I answer firmly. I spend the next few minutes telling her everything I know about Dominic and his family and explaining my burgeoning plans for the wedding and our ‘marriage.’
When I’m done, she says, “Huh. Sounds smart, actually.”
“Really?” I ask, totally surprised by her reaction. I was expecting a lecture about honesty and authenticity and all that sort of crap.
“Yes, it’s a solid plan. Obviously, I’d never recommend getting married, but this isn’t a real marriage so it could actually work.”
“Exactly,” I answer.
“And as we’ve both learned, men suck, but I have a feeling that gay men suck less.”
I don’t completely agree with her, but I don’t necessarily disagree with her either, and I’m not about to start an argument right now. Not when I should be responding to comments on my big post. “Dominic definitely doesn’t seem to suck at all.”
“Good. And if you don’t love him, he can’t hurt you.”
And … we’re back to my father.
“True. It’ll allow me to avoid all the messiness of a real relationship.
” On this point, she and I are totally sympatico, which is probably because, since the time I was eleven, I’ve seen the effects of loving a man who doesn’t love you back.
(Sidenote: He does manage to love his new wife and their exceptional children, so that’s nice for them.) Also, I’ve had my own ‘bad apple’ experiences as well, especially a certain Italian man who I’d rather not think about.
“Okay, I should run. This post is blowing up and I need to start responding to people to prime the algorithm.”
“All right, prime away, my dear. But next time, please call me first with any news,” she says.
“I will.”
“No, you won’t, but I suppose it’ll have to be enough that I know you want to.”
“That I do. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too.”
I spend the next couple of hours sitting on the bed responding to comments.
I ignore all the haters and doubters (and there are plenty, believe me), and focus on my true fans instead.
I check LornaLuvsLuxury, but she hasn’t posted a response video yet.
It’ll be coming, I’m sure, but I’m going to take the high road and say nothing about it.
Frank, my videographer/editor, will be here tomorrow, and Dom and I will make the greatest boyfriend reveal video of all time.
Then we’ll follow that with our engagement announcement.
And Lorna will look like a total ass. Not one-hundred-percent fair since she’s right about me, but then again, she went after me for no reason, and I have never and would never do that to another influencer.
I’m of the belief that high tides lift all boats, and the reverse is also true—casting doubt on one of us reduces trust for us all.
Does drama give you a short-term boost? You bet your ass it does.
Does it eventually come back to bite you?
Also yes. I’ve never done anything to hurt another influencer, and in my book, that means no one should be coming after me.
When the comments finally slow down, I check my texts.
One is from Paige:
Paige
Saw the video. So, it’s still full steam ahead then! How’s it going over there?
Me
I’m totally in love. Ben’s son, Henry, is the sweetest thing ever. Dom is great, but he had to go to work so I’m here alone with Ben and Henry.
Paige
Speaking of Ben, guess who called Mac a few minutes ago?
Me
Seriously?
Paige
Yup. He said you said to call for a reference.
Me
I hope that’s okay. I did tell him if he was worried, he could ask Mac about me.
Paige
It’s fine. Mac doesn’t mind.
Me
Phew! What did he say about me?
Paige
He said you’re a solid friend and told him about everything you did to find us when we were stranded. He also said you and I have been joined at the hip since college and if I love you, it means you’re good people because I have impeccable taste.
Me
Is that because you like him?
Paige
Presumably :)
Me
Hopefully this helps because I get the feeling Ben doesn’t want me here. I don’t blame him though. He’s got a good thing going with Dominic living here and I’m about to put an end to that.
Paige
Yikes, that sounds like it could be rough.
Me
I’m worried that I made a mistake. This is more complicated than I thought it would be. I feel VERY guilty.
Paige
Do you want to talk?
Me
No, you and Mac need some alone time. I had you all to myself for days.
Paige
He is giving me the bedroom eyes.
Me
Go, enjoy your evening. Tell him thank you for vouching for me.
I toss my phone on my bed and close my eyes.
Down the hall, I can hear the sound of a keyboard tapping, and I imagine Ben is still up working.
Checking the time, I see that Dom won’t be back for another couple of hours, and a sense of exhaustion comes over me.
There’s a horrible pit in my stomach, and a tiny voice in the back of my mind is telling me I’m doing the wrong thing.
But that voice doesn’t pay my rent or Frank’s salary.
That voice doesn’t care about the dozens of emails and DMs from fans telling me what a difference I make in their lives, and how watching my videos helped them get through some dark times.
No, I can’t stop. I’m in this too far now.
If I quit, there will never be any coming back.
I’ll be nothing but a joke—the poster child for pathetic liars everywhere forever.
And now I’ve also got Dominic to think of.
I have a chance to give him the life of his dreams. If I turn back now, there will be no helping him.
So, I’m going to have to suck it up and do my best to make this work, for all of our sakes.
And I’m going to have to find a way to help Ben so he doesn’t end up worse off because I came crashing into their lives.