Chapter 22 #2
“On a certain level, yes. I can see where you’re coming from.
Mom eventually found out on her own and threw him out.
But I could have said something before then.
Saved her those years she wasted on him.
Whenever he acted like everything was good, like he adored my mother, I wanted to blurt it all out.
He was so fucking fake. I even threatened to tell her once, but he said it would crush my mother.
That I’d understand one day, when I had my own wife.
As if my cheating on this person who didn’t even exist yet was a foregone conclusion. ”
“But you don’t believe that. I can tell.”
“No, but I’m starting to think I’ll never get close enough to anyone to prove him wrong.
And it’s never them, it’s me. Because I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
For someone to reveal their true selves and ruin everything.
That’s what my father did to my mother. That’s what my ex did to me.
I’ve seen it over and over, so I have a hard time expecting anything else.
” I sit up and sigh. “I don’t know. This subject’s too heavy for a porch swing in front of a cottage in the Hudson Valley. ”
She sits up, too, her mouth curving into a smile that seems forced.
“Actually, I think all of these conversations happen in this type of setting. At least they do in the movies. Except we should have waited until early evening. And started a fire. Oh, and how could we forget the wine?” She leans over, takes my hand, and gives it a tight squeeze.
I turn my head and stare at her. This is Vanessa’s superpower.
Listening without judgment. She doesn’t pretend to have the answers, but I can feel, to the very center of my being, that she cares.
That she’s heard every word, turned each one over in her brain.
In this moment, I know she has feelings for me.
Never mind that she’s holding back a secret that makes me question her integrity and my own sanity.
Could I ever move past the scheme if she confessed to it?
Maybe.
Probably.
Because it’s the deceit that doesn’t sit right with me.
And now she knows why. If she voluntarily told me about her and Lisa’s plan, I might be able to laugh it off as the ridiculous start to our relationship.
A glitch in the operating software that we could fix in the update and shake our heads about months from now. God, I hope that’s where we’re headed.
Vanessa breaks our gaze, then she stands and stretches, a sliver of skin peeking out from below her pink top.
I’d love to kiss a path along her stomach, brush my cheek against it.
Or just lie here with her a little longer and listen to her voice as she tells me something real. That would be every bit as nice.
After looking out at the lake across from the cottages for a long moment, she says, “It’s okay not to trust people.
They should give you a reason to. And if they don’t, they’re not worth your time.
You’ll find the right person, Jason. Someone who deserves your love.
Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not next week or next month.
But someday. You’re too good of a man not to. ”
How can she say that so easily, knowing what she and Lisa are attempting to do behind my back? And then it dawns on me, as clear as the cloudless sky above: In her mind, the right person could never be her.
A bloodcurdling scream wakes me from my sleep, and I fight the sheets trying to get up. “What the hell?”
“You heard that too?” Denise says from her bed.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling on a fresh pair of sweats.
“It came from Vanessa and Lisa’s cottage.”
“I’m going to run over there and make sure they’re okay.”
“Or you could let the axe murderer kill them both.”
“You’re not so heartless as to want them dead, are you?”
She shrugs. “I’d settle for a mild injury. A sprained ankle or something as they run through the woods.”
I shake my head as I pull open the door. “Back in a minute. Hopefully.”
As soon as I step onto our porch, I see light coming from their cottage, then I hear another scream. Louder this time. So I sprint across the grass, leap over their steps, and bang on the door. “Vanessa! Lisa! It’s me.”
Lisa opens the door, her face scrunched in amusement.
“What’s going on? Is Vanessa okay?”
“There’s a spider in our room. The big baby can’t deal.”
“May I?”
“Sure,” she says, stepping back from the door. “Maybe you can help me find it, so the rest of us who aren’t scared of spiders can get some sleep.”
When I enter the room, my gaze immediately lands on Vanessa, who’s standing on top of her bed and doing an excellent impression of a person stomping grapes. She’s wearing sweats from top to bottom, she has some kind of neon-green cap on her head, and her face is covered in pink goo.
“I hear there’s a spider in here,” I say, holding in a laugh.
“Yes, please, please, please find it. I won’t be able to sleep unless I know it’s gone.”
“Don’t worry, V, Jason and I will get it.” Lisa may as well puff out her chest and tell us she’s here to slay dragons.
“O-okay,” Vanessa stutters.
I survey the room. “Where’d you last see it?”
“Under my bed.”
Lisa glides in front of me, a tissue in her hand, and bends over as she lifts the edge of Vanessa’s comforter.
This sister’s wearing a cutoff top and tiny shorts.
Emphasis on tiny. As I look between them, I can’t help wondering if this is a part of their ruse.
A scheme to get me to their room so I can see Lisa in revealing clothing, while the sister I’m supposedly trying to date is dressed to lug moving boxes to a rented U-Haul.
Lisa sticks her head under the bed. “I see it!”
“What the hell is going on in here?” a sleepy-eyed Denise asks from the door that Lisa apparently left cracked open.
Meanwhile, Lisa’s having a conversation with the likely nonexistent spider underneath her sister’s bed. “Come here, you brat. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Is it big?” Vanessa asks, the back of her hand pressed against her forehead. “It’s huge, isn’t it? Oh my God, oh my God, get it out, get it out.”
This might be the worst acting performance in the history of acting performances.
Lisa jumps up triumphantly, raising the now-crumpled tissue in her hand. “Got it.”
“Don’t kill it,” Denise says. “Toss it outside.”
“Great idea,” Lisa says, walking to the door.
I try to stop her. “Wait. Let me see what kind it is. So I know what to look for in case there’s more.”
“More?” the sisters ask, their eyes going round.
“Yeah, spiders tend to make nests under beds, especially in the evenings when it’s cooler.”
I have no idea if that’s true. I’m talking out of my ass because I’m committed to messing with them.
Lisa scurries to the door and rushes through it. “Absolutely not. I’m just going to toss it outside like Denise suggested.”
Before I can catch a glimpse of the definitely empty tissue, she waves it out the door. “There. Spider all gone.”
I chuckle at the ridiculous lengths these women are willing to go to for the sake of Lisa’s unrequited crush. “That was badass, Lisa. I’m impressed.”
She does a curtsy, then takes a bow, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you.”
“Oh my God, y’all are being silly,” Denise mutters. “It was a spider, not a bear.”
“I still think I should check under there. Just in case.”
“Please do,” Vanessa says, her voice thin. “I didn’t think about nests.”
Making a big show of getting on all fours, I whistle as I shine a light on the floor underneath Vanessa’s box spring.
“See anything?”
“Oh shit,” I say.
“What?” all the women ask.
“It’s a nest, all right. I think you got the mama, and now the babies are scrambling everywhere.”
Vanessa lets out a high-pitched scream, jumps off the bed, and tugs the comforter loose. Lisa scrambles over to her bed and does the same. Then they’re both scurrying to the door and flying past Denise, who’s focused on Lisa’s tiny shorts.
“Where are you going?” I ask, laughing.
“We’re sleeping in your room,” they call back.
“On the floor,” Denise yells over her shoulder as she stares after them. When we hear a door slam shut, she turns to me, a wicked grin wiping away the tired expression she had a minute ago. “Let me guess, there are no spider babies under the bed.”
“Maybe there are,” I say with a chuckle. “But I didn’t see any.”
“I like this version of you,” she says, bumping my shoulder with hers before she walks through the door. “Haven’t seen you let go like this in years.”
Here’s the thing: She’s absolutely right. And I hate that Vanessa and her antics, as wacky as they’ve been, are the cause.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, mentally giving myself a pep talk. The wedding’s next week. After that, Vanessa and I don’t have to cross paths ever again if we don’t want to.
Am I holding out hope that Vanessa will reveal the truth about her and Lisa’s scheme before the reception ends? Yes.
And if she doesn’t, will I blow the lid off the ruse as soon as Cami and Bryan say goodbye to their guests? Damn right I will.