19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Nick
Something is off with her…
I can’t put my finger on it, but Eliza keeps slipping me these looks across the table. It makes it nearly impossible to pay attention to the plate of lasagna in front of me.
“So, what’re your Thanksgiving plans, Martha?” Ms. Marilyn looks at my mom, who’s happily seated beside me. She was more than thrilled when she was extended the invitation for dinner at the Willis house.
“Well, as you know, Mara and her family will be coming in. We’re planning on eating earlier in the day this year; that’ll let the kids eat all that dessert in the afternoon instead of the evening—right before bedtime.” Mom laughs, and Marilyn and I join in.
But Eliza says nothing, her eyes on her plate.
Gently, I nudge her under the table, and when her head jerks up, I give her a smile. “You got a lot on your mind?”
“I’m sure she does,” Ms. Marilyn mutters in a nearly inaudible voice.
I’m not sure what to make of it, and Eliza jumps in before I can ask anything more.
“My business is just growing super-fast, and I have a lot of scheduling on my mind. You know how stressful that can be,” she says, before shoving a bite of the Italian dish into her mouth.
Mom nods, like she gets it.
But I don’t buy her answer at all, and Marilyn only halfway rolls her eyes.
Are they fighting?
“You know, not to be a brag,” Mom begins, and her word choice causes me to instantly cringe. “Nick is great with schedules. I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to help you figure out a realistic itinerary. When his father first got sick, Nick handled everything—and he was only seventeen.”
Eliza looks over at me, something warm in her eyes. “Wow, you were so young.”
“He was very young, and he was too young to shoulder such a responsibility. I’m not sure how he managed to do it, and on top of that he got a full ride to the state university to play football—which he turned down.”
Eliza’s fork hits the plate. “You turned down a full ride?”
I feel my cheeks growing warm. “Well … Yeah … But—”
“We tried to get him to take it,” Mom chimes in. “But he didn’t want to see me hire anyone—money was tight—so he didn’t go to college at all. I really worried that he would regret it.”
“I don’t regret it at all,” I breathe out, hating the sympathetic looks I’m getting from all three women. “It’s not like that. I chose to stay because I wanted to, and I think it was the right choice. I’m happy with my life.”
And I’d be happier if I could just … catch Eliza’s romantic attention.
But I’ve long let winning over Eliza go.
Now, that is a defeat.
“Well, I think it’s really admirable what you did.” Eliza’s voice brings me out from my inner pity party. “It’s not that often that you see people making those kinds of selfless sacrifices. It just shows how much you love your family, and what you’re willing to do for the people you care about.”
I nod, glancing over to my mom, who’s smiling a country mile wide. As much as it’s annoying for her to be trying to build me up, the pure joy on her face makes me ignore the negative feelings. I just hate that she’s going to be sorely disappointed when Eliza and I don’t end up together .
Besides, I used my mom’s account to take a peek at Eliza’s photography page, and naturally, Devon showed up. For all I know, they’re getting back together.
Maybe that’s what’s getting to Eliza right now.
I finish eating without saying much, listening to Ms. Marilyn and my mom drone on about Thanksgiving recipes, Christmas, and other lady talk. I steal glances at Eliza every so often, but surprisingly, she’s into the conversation.
“Why don’t you two go for a walk or something while we clean up?” Mom suggests as she finally stands to her feet, reaching for my plate.
“I can help clean up,” Eliza chimes in. “After all, you two are our guests.”
“No, no,” Martha dismisses her. “I love chatting with Marilyn, and don’t mind doing dishes; it’s rather relaxing for me.”
“Yes, you two, go.” Ms. Marilyn shoos us from the table. “It’s a beautiful evening. Grab a coat and go do what you young people do.”
Mom and Ms. Marilyn burst into a fit of laughter that I don’t understand—and don’t intend to try to. I look to Eliza, who shrugs.
“Well, come on,” she says, her voice has an edge that I don’t totally understand.
Maybe she’s going to tell me about Devon.
He’s never come up in conversation, but if they’re getting back together, it might be the topic of the evening. After all, we’ve grown close .
I grab her coat from the rack and help her slide into it, ignoring the intoxicating scent of her perfume in the air and the way the warm glow of the lights glimmers on her blonde hair.
“Thanks,” she mutters as she reaches for the front door handle. “I think they just want to talk about us.”
“Probably.” I chuckle, sliding on my own coat and stepping out into the evening air. The sun has nearly disappeared beneath the horizon, but there’s enough streetlights to keep the street lit. “It is nice out though.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, before walking down the ramp and leaving me there.
I trot to catch up with her, my boots crunching in the leaves as we make it to the edge of the yard. “I need to come and rake those up.”
Eliza gives me a funny look. “I think it’s a waste. There’s always more the next day.”
“We could put them in trash sacks and make a leaf snowman,” I suggest, shrugging.
“That sounds … interesting. ” Eliza giggles as we step out onto the street. “I think I might have to pass on that. Let’s just build a real snowman this winter.”
“Fine,” I say, relieved she’s at least talking about the future. I glance down at her hand, suspended just inches from mine. So many times, it crosses my mind to grab it. What would she do? Would she let me hold it?
Probably not. We’re just friends .
“So … I need to talk to you,” she begins, letting out a sharp breath that catches my attention. “And you have to promise not to freak out.”
“Okay…” My voice trails off as I side-eye her. “I’ll do my best.”
“My mom saw those pictures I posted of us.”
“Okay, and?”
Eliza tilts her head to look up at me. “She sort of … took them the wrong way.”
At first it doesn’t register in my head, and I blink a few times.
Oh. OH.
“Does she think … does she think … we’re … together ?” I can hardly get the words out, and Eliza’s unreadable expression isn’t helping. I can’t tell if she’s mad, happy, or something else.
“She does.”
I feel like I’m sitting on the edge of my seat. “And?”
“And … she thinks that we make a cute couple.”
I try to hide my grin. “My mom said the same thing.”
“Mmm,” is all she mutters.
My heart sinks.
“Anyway,” Eliza continues, shaking her head. “The reaction she had wasn’t really what I was expecting. She and my dad are like super happy for me. They’ve been really worried about me not finding someone—giving up on love and all that.”
“Have you given up on love?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
She’s quiet and then looks up at me. “I value our friendship, Nick … and I have the biggest favor to ask of you.”
My shoulders slump at the fact she ignored my question. I have no clue where the conversation is going. “What do you want me to do?”
She stops in the middle of the dimly lit street and turns to me, meeting my eyes. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend through Thanksgiving. We can stage a break up afterward, and I’ll tell my parents that we decided we’re better off as friends, but I want my parents to think that I’ve moved on from Devon—and that I haven’t given up on love.”
I have no words.
“It’ll just be for the duration of the time they’re here. We don’t have to tell anyone. Granny already knows a little, but I’ll handle her.”
I take a deep breath, trying to process Eliza’s request.
She wants me to pretend to be her boyfriend?
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, uncertainty swirling in my mind.
Because my feelings for Eliza are far from pretend .
She presses her lips together, looking at me with determined eyes. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and if you’re uncomfortable with it, I completely understand. But it would mean a lot to me if you could help me out with this. You don’t have to kiss me or anything.”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, the weight of Eliza’s request sinking in.
I’m not one to lie…
But…
I can’t deny the thrill that surges through me at the thought of being Eliza’s “boyfriend,” even if it’s just for show.
But I also have a gnawing sense of unease. Would I even be able to handle pretending to be in a relationship with the girl I’ve secretly been pining over for months? Would I be able to keep my true feelings hidden?
Then the realization hits me.
Maybe this charade could be an opportunity to show Eliza the type of boyfriend I could be.
Suddenly, a spark of hope lights up inside me. This could be my chance to show her how much I care for her. To show her how much she means to me. To show her not all men are like her ex.
By “pretending” to be her boyfriend, maybe then, she’ll finally see me as more than just a friend.
“I’ll do it,” I say, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice.
A mixture of relief and gratitude flashes across Eliza’s face before she gives me a grateful hug. “Thank you, Nick. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
As we walk back toward the house, a plan begins to form in my mind.
Maybe this pretend relationship could turn into something real after all.