Page 10 of Pretend You're Mine
That night, when I arrived, the table was all set (the flower-crested silverware was out which mean this was a special occasion) and everyone was sitting down, about to eat.
“We were beginning to think we’d have to start without you,” Mom said, as if this would be akin to the start of World War III.
“Sorry,” I told her. “Work ran late.”
I took my space between Teren and Reginald, swapping Teren’s glum smile. Here we went, the family institution that was Monday Night Dinner.
Tonight’s fare was what looked to be honey-glazed chicken and beet juice-roasted fennel.
I would’ve been able to enjoy it too, if it weren’t for the conversation.
“You remember the church bazaar, don’t you Naomi?” Dad asked blithely.
“Of course,” I said evenly. “The one with the great peanut butter brittle.”
He nodded, this clearly segueing into what he was going to say next. “Thing is, this year Marsha and Reverend Ron have expressed concerns about the turn out. You wouldn’t mind popping over with Reginald tomorrow night, would you?”
He popped a fennel piece in his mouth and began chewing, casual as ever, as the bomb he dropped erupted into my enraged consciousness. There it was, another undisguised attempt of my parents to set me up with Reginald.
“I have my own table of handmade fanny packs,” Reginald was saying proudly, his smile showcasing long eye teeth, like a werewolf. “Been preparing for nearly a year for this year’s sale. Even had to scrap choir practice to finish up the last of the fanny pack batch.”
Mom and Dad made appreciative noises, as they chewed their food. Teren looked like he might choke on his stupid chicken trying not to laugh out loud.
I kicked him under the table. It wasn’t funny. It was tragic. My life was like one of those sitcoms you laugh at because it’s so horrible.
“You haven’t touched your food,” Mom said.
“Or said whether you’re in,” Dad added.
Like pigeons landing to roost, the eyes of every single person at the table settled on me, one by one. bazaar
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a new boyfriend,” I blurted out.
A startled silence settled in long enough for it to dawn on me that I’d just done the most idiotic thing possible.
“A new boyfriend.” Mom’s curious smile dug the you-idiot knife in deeper. “That’s wonderful, honey. I assume you plan to bring him around soon?”
I stabbed my fork into a fennel and shoved it in my mouth in the hopes of having something else to concentrate on. Something other than the fact that I’d just dug myself a great big hole and jumped right on in.
“Yeah,” I said weakly, while my mind screamed, Think of something. But I couldn’t. What excuse could I give that they wouldn’t see right through?
“I don’t know about the bazaar though,” I said. “Xander isn’t really a big shopping guy.”
Great, now you just told them his name.
Dad grinned at me as if he’d been waiting for me to say that very thing. “That’s where Howie and the boys come in. They’re going to be at the table playing Christmas tunes all day. And then there’s the Christmas cookies and the little sandwiches.”
“Ok,” I said in a voice devoid of emotion, although everyone else tactfully pretended not to notice.
That was it then. Xander, my accidental husband, and I were going to my church bazaar.
The rest of the meal was an autopilot blur. I couldn’t do much in the way of conversation other than responding to whatever was said to me. My mind was cycling between take it back, take it back and you screwed up big time.
As soon as my plate was empty, I carried it over to the sink, said a quick goodbye and escaped out to my car.
“Are you sure you won’t stay longer?” Mom was still saying as I left for the front door. “I still have some apple pie left, and you know Reginald’s always up for a game of gin, right Regi?”
I would rather eat the concrete steps outside of my parent’s house, thank you very much, than stay another minute in the awkward atmosphere, which I had created. Although all I said to them was, “Thanks, but I really do have to go.”
As I speed walked to my car, a voice stopped me.
“A new boyfriend?”
Teren had followed me, eyeing me incredulously.
The past few days I’d been so slammed with work and the whole Xander craziness, I hadn’t had a chance to explain how the situation had unfolded yet, but now was as good a time as any.
“I know I messed up, okay? I didn’t know what else to do. I’m tired of them trying to set me up with Reginald of all people.”
“He actually has a fanny pack stand,” Teren said, cracking up, although his face fell soon enough. “Dad roped me into going too. And he’s expressly mentioned that Angela would be there.”
