Chapter Six #2
“Besides,” Mom went on before I could speak, “five for dinner is such an awkward number.”
It’s funny how the brain works when you’re panicked. There is the fight, flight, freeze response. And then, there is the lie response.
My mouth started talking before I had a chance to control it. “It’s okay, we’ll be six.”
“Six?” Mom repeated, pleased. “Oh, you mean Nikki? That’s sweet, but Easter dinner should be family.”
Then why the hell invite Neil?
Because Neil had always been her dream son-in-law.
A born charmer, he had always sucked up to her, knowing my family was my weak spot.
They had their little inside jokes; they messaged each other on social media and exchanged silly memes.
Mom was determined to have her version of the past repeat itself.
She wanted to see me settled and married in Warwick, where I would soon be barefoot and pregnant, providing her with copious amounts of grandchildren.
Over my dead body! Maybe one day I’d give her one or two grandchildren, but not now, not yet, and definitely not Neil’s.
Desperate, my own four walls closing in on me, I fleshed out the lie that I hoped would save my life. “I didn’t mean Nikki. I was going to mention this later, but I… I’ve met someone. We’ve been seeing each other off and on.”
“Susanne, that’s wonderful!” Her voice went up three decibels. “Tell us all about him.”
This was the tricky part. I had been forced to lie about imaginary boyfriends before, but I always had time to prepare the details of the lie.
Now my imagination was being shoved onto the stage naked.
What the hell was I supposed to say? My list of available men was pitifully short.
Fred from school, who had a bad heart and lived with his mother.
Mark, the trainer at the gym who spent more time admiring his own muscles than anyone else.
Julio, the cute guy from the Brew Shack in the subway station who was maybe twenty years old.
I hadn’t had a date in months, except for Sam. I pictured Sam trying to show his Ted Bundy spoon to my dad. I actually winced. I couldn’t bear to have him even as an imaginary boyfriend.
I had to get creative… Instantly, Cam popped into my head, and my mouth started talking with absolutely no assistance from my brain. What was the harm if I indulged in a little fantasy? No one would ever know.
“He’s new in town,” I said dreamily. “His name is Cam.”
“Cam what?” my brother asked, his tone suspicious. “Cameron Diaz?”
I frowned, annoyed. “It’s Cameron Jones, but he goes by Cam. He’s from Denver.”
“What’s he look like?” Michelle asked.
I heard my brother in the background. “He looks like the invisible man.” He made that weird whirring noise he used to make when we were alone in the dark, and he wanted to scare me.
Jerk! Grow the hell up.
The tips of my ears grew hot. Paul could always get to me, even now when we were adults. Well, at least I was. Just to spite him, I dug myself a deeper grave. I described Cam well enough for a sketch artist to draw.
“We met at school,” I finished, knowing how Mom felt about where nice girls should meet boys. I was pretty sure she still believed I was a virgin, but Neil had popped that cherry—among God knows how many others.
“Well, he sounds just lovely,” Mom said. “We can’t wait to meet him.”
Her skepticism was fair, since I’d invented at least three boyfriends before. They had to suspect by now, but my pride would never let me admit I was lying through my teeth, so I let my fantasy dig me a little deeper.
“You’ll love him, Mom. He’s so sweet and considerate. He carried my groceries the other day.”
I wasn’t even lying.
Until Easter arrived, I would pray for a hurricane or an earthquake—something that would gobble up both myself and New York City. In the meantime, I would run with my imaginary romance, keep my mother off my back, and Neil at bay.
“Well, well… It looks like you caught a live one,” Paul said.
“What did you do?” Mom’s voice turned into a purr. “Dio mio, he is good looking.”
I sat in horror, staring at the phone as if it were an alien creature. What was going on? A bad feeling crept up my stomach, and it wasn’t just acid reflux.
“I looked him up,” Paul said. “Found his social media page, although it still has him living in Denver. Not that I didn’t trust you, Sis, but Neil’s my best friend, and I like to check the facts.”
Of course he was. I hadn’t had the heart to tell my brother or anyone else in my family about Neil’s cheating, and obviously Neil hadn’t mentioned it.
“He went to MIT,” Dad said. “Not too shabby. Looks like he’s done well. Maybe this is the one for you, bambina. What work does he do?”
Mortified, I leaned back against the couch. “He works in tech. Papa, we’ve just started dating. I didn’t expect you to vet him like a criminal. Does the term invasion of privacy mean nothing to you?”
“Nothing wrong with making sure my little girl’s safe,” Dad said. “Plenty of stronzi pretend to be decent, and the internet’s full of them.”
Paul snorted. “If he didn’t want people knowing his business, he wouldn’t be on social media.”
Crap! It was going to be a hell of a lot harder to get out of this.
I only half listened as Mom went on to give me all the news she thought I might care about. Twenty minutes later, we finally ended the call. I set the phone aside and stared at the ceiling.
How was I going to get out of this mess? And why couldn’t I just tell my mom I didn’t want to have dinner with Neil?
Because she’d ask why. Then she’d dig, prod, and poke holes in my excuses until I ran out of breath—or reasons. The woman was relentless. Just thinking about it exhausted me to the point of physical pain.
I rubbed my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. Sometimes, a small lie was easier than the truth, and far less likely to spark a full-blown emotional inquisition over antipasto. It didn’t hurt anyone. But it saved me.