Chapter 19

I’d never been to Simon’s house. Which felt weird considering I was picking him up to take him home for the weekend, where he would meet my family and pretend to be in love with me. When I pulled into his driveway, I noticed just how close he was to the inn’s gardens. He’d told me his property bordered the southeastern edge, but I guess I’d imagined a more distant border. He could have thrown a rock from his front porch and hit the garden’s pathway. No wonder he’d seen Ida and me talking in the garden. I walked across the grass, charmed by a different view of the gardens I’d loved for so long.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

I spun around. Simon stood on his porch, his hands pushed into his pockets. He was wearing dark jeans, an untucked button-down shirt, and a blazer. More casual than the suits I’d normally seen him in, but it was a look that suited him.

“It’s lovely.”

He walked down the steps and crossed to where I stood. “The gate’s down there, at the corner.” He pointed.

“Okay, if I lived here, I really would walk to work every day.”

Simon gave me a quick tour of the rest of the house before we left. It wasn’t very big, but it was full of clean, modern lines and space so well appointed it didn’t feel small. The décor was far more than I expected of a bachelor pad. It was minimal but still intentional. And there were books everywhere. Funky bookends of all different styles filled the mantelpiece, the bookshelves, and the table behind the couch. “You decorate like I do,” I said. “With books.”

“Yeah, I figured it was better than antlers or those weird singing-fish things.”

I grinned. “Or cats.”

“Definitely better than cats.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So. I guess I’ll grab my bag, and we can go.”

I gripped my keys a little tighter. “Sounds good.”

Things were quiet the first few minutes of the drive. I navigated the car to the highway and headed west toward Asheville, nothing but some casual small talk filling the silence between us. Finally, Simon cleared his throat like he wanted to say something but then froze, his mouth hanging open.

I glanced his direction. “You okay?”

He gave his head a slight shake as if to clear his thoughts. “Sorry. I was trying to think of the most appropriate way to start this conversation.”

“Simon, I think we’re far past appropriate with the whole charade we’ve cooked up for this weekend. Whatever it is, just say it.”

He smiled. “Well, that’s just it. I wonder if we shouldn’t set some . . . ground rules. No. Ground rules sounds so formal. I just want to make sure I behave like you would expect me to. Do we hold hands? Should I keep my arm around you? And what’s our story? How did we meet? How long have we been dating? I’m guessing people will ask those questions, so we probably ought to figure out the answers.”

All very good questions. “Right. Okay. Let’s start at the beginning. We met on the soccer field right after I moved in. We don’t even need to lie about that one.”

He nodded. “Good. And we started dating right away?”

“Sure. We can even talk about how you helped me out at the inn, and because we spent so much time together, falling in love was really easy.”

“Yes. Good. That works.”

“Holding hands is great,” I said. “And an arm around me every once in a while would be nice. Don’t hover though. We have to be casual enough that people believe we’ve been dating for months. In tune with each other but not overly infatuated.”

“I can do that.”

It came to my mind, not for the first time, just how big a thing this was. How generous Simon was for going along with the whole crazy plan. “Thank you for doing this, Simon. For me and for Jamie too. I know how crazy it must feel.” He looked up when I mentioned Jamie’s name, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, then he looked down at his hands. I turned my focus back to the road, wondering if he was going to say anything. He looked like he wanted to, so I continued to wait.

“Don’t think anything of it,” he finally said. “My brothers are a lot of things, plenty of things I don’t like. But the one thing Hamiltons have never lacked is loyalty. Jamie in particular, for all his insults, would do anything for me. I don’t doubt that for a second. It’s only right I do the same for him.”

“Well, thank you for making such a noble sacrifice,” I said.

He smiled. “Sacrifice, indeed. You’re pretty terrible company, Lane. Spending four days with you is going to be rough. For Jamie, I can endure. But I don’t have to like it.”

“Very funny. Did he make it to the airport okay this morning?”

“Yeah, he did.” He paused. “You know this is really hard on him, right?”

“I know. He’s told me he’s sorry five million times. I’ve told him it’s fine, but . . .”

“He doesn’t believe you?”

I shook my head.

“But he should?”

I looked at him. “Why does everyone doubt me? I get it. His work is important right now.”

“I guess Jamie gave me the impression there’s a little more at stake.”

So that was what he was getting at. My future with Jamie. “What, because of the move?”

“How are you feeling about it?”

I sighed a weary sigh. “I don’t know how I feel. I really wish he didn’t have to go.”

“I remember you telling me you didn’t love living in California. Are you still feeling that way?”

“I don’t know what I’m feeling. I’m changing my mind daily. I keep hoping something will stick, but so far, the only thing I know for sure is that I still don’t know what to do.” There was a lot I wasn’t saying. How much it still hurt that Jamie had kept me in the dark about California for so long, even if his reasons were well-intentioned. How much it hurt that even when he knew what was at stake, he still couldn’t prioritize me over his business. I’d told Jamie and Simon I was fine, and I wanted to believe I was, but I still felt the sting, no matter how reasonable I tried to be.

In a way, it was like there were two relationships on trial for the weekend. The fake one Simon and I had to convince my family was real. And inside my own heart, my real one with Jamie. I told myself I just had to get through the weekend with Simon, then I would have the emotional bandwidth to sort out how I truly felt about Jamie. But I couldn’t ignore it—the huge California-shaped cloud looming over my head. Nor could I ignore the Simon-shaped person sitting next to me and the role he might play in the sorting out of my feelings. Whether I wanted him to or not.

A question bounced around the back of my brain. I shouldn’t ask. Simon had just spoken of his loyalty to his brother, so asking might put him in an uncomfortable position. But he also might have insight I could benefit from. And seeing as how I was about to make a huge decision, I really wanted to ask. “Can I ask you something about Jamie?” There. Damage done. I’d committed.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m dating two different versions of the same man.”

“Okay.”

“Jamie is impetuous and impulsive. Not in a bad way. He just knows what he wants, and he goes after it. I can relate to that. I’m like that in a lot of ways, but he’s a little like a barrel rolling down a hill, you know? He just goes and does without thinking, trusting he’ll hit the bottom eventually, thrilled at how fast he’s managing to go on the way.”

Simon chuckled. “That is a perfect description of Jamie.”

“But other times, he seems so thoughtful. Like he’s slowed down and observed the things I like and the music I listen to. It’s so sweet when it happens, but, honestly, it always kind of surprises me when it does because he’s not really like that with other people. I don’t want to sound like I’m painting him in such a negative light. It’s not that he’s not considerate. He’d do anything for anyone. I know that. But he’s not always the most observant guy. So there’s a dichotomy there. These two different sides of his personality that don’t necessarily mesh.”

Simon shifted in his seat. “Maybe he’s more observant with you because of how much he cares about you. He’s trying harder because he loves you.”

“Yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself. But I don’t want him to feel like he has to be someone he’s not.”

“I think he just wants to impress you.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. He’s done some amazing things for me.” I glanced his way. “He told you about my birthday, right? It was incredible. But it still felt . . . I don’t know how it felt.”

“I’m guessing there’s still a question in there somewhere.”

“Right. I did say that. I guess I’m wondering what Jamie has been like in the past. Is this typical girlfriend stuff you’ve seen him do before?”

He ran his hand over his jaw. “I’ll say this. I’ve never seen Jamie care so much or work so hard to make a woman happy like he has with you.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

My cell phone rang before I could say anything more. The Bluetooth in my car picked up the call. My mother. Risky, answering her through Bluetooth, considering Simon would hear our entire conversation. I glanced at my phone sitting in the center console, comforted to know I could make a fast switch if need be.

“Bueno? Mama?”

“Lane? Are you on your way?”

“We are. We should be there by lunchtime. How is Abuela?”

“Oh, fine, fine. Everything is fine, but, Lane, I need to warn you.”

“You’re on speaker phone, Mom. Simon’s listening.”

“Oh. Hello, Simon. Nice to finally have the chance to say hello.” I glanced at Simon and rolled my eyes.

“Hello, Dr. Bishop. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person.”

“Mmm. He has a nice deep voice, Lane. Very nice.”

“Mom!”

“Where was I? Oh yes. There’s something I need to tell you. Nothing major. Just a small little detail that I may have mentioned to my mother when we were discussing you and Simon.”

“What kind of little detail?”

“You know how she pressures me, Lane.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you know how persuasive she is.”

“Mama. What did you say to her?”

“It’s just that she was talking on and on about how a young woman’s choice is never really made until she has a ring on her finger. Did you know she invited three men to my engagement party with your father? Three! ‘Backup,’ she called them. In case I changed my mind at the last minute.”

“Please tell me she’s not turning my Thanksgiving into a speed-dating event.”

“No. She’s not. Though you’re lucky we’re not in Puerto Rico. If we were, it might be a different story.”

“So what did you tell her about Simon and me?”

She sighed. “I told her you were already engaged.”

“What? Why would you do that? We’re not!”

“I told you. She kept going on and on about how important it is for you to get married and asking what I was doing to help you and how serious were you with this boy, and, Lane, it was like it was me all over again. I don’t want her to do this to you. I love my mother. And I know she loves you and that is where her concern comes from, but she’s a little crazy. If you’re actually engaged to this boy, I think she may dial it back a bit.”

I huffed. “Is that your professional opinion?” My mother was even-tempered, reasonable, and wise in nearly every sense—an incredible psychiatrist who counseled people out of damaging, destructive relationships on a daily basis. But she was full-on nutty when it came to dealing with her own mother.

Mom huffed right back. “Don’t pull the professional card on me. This is your abuela we’re talking about. There is no medical degree that covers how to handle her.”

Simon and I exchanged glances. Engaged. I mean, we were pretending all weekend anyway. What difference did it make if we took things one step further?

“Oh no,” Mom said. “I just thought of something. Lane, put Simon on the phone.”

“He’s on the phone. We both are.”

“I know that,” she said. “Just him.”

Simon raised his eyebrows in question. I shrugged—I had no idea what she wanted—but gestured to the phone in the center console.

He picked it up. “Okay. It’s just me now.”

I watched and waited while he listened, a smile playing around his lips the entire time. “No, I do appreciate you mentioning that,” he finally said. He nodded. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I think we can work something out for this weekend.” He paused again. Another nod. “Okay. I’m looking forward to meeting you too.” He hung up the phone and dropped it back into the center console. “So,” he said. He cupped his hands over his knees. “You want to get married?”

“I cannot even begin to imagine what you think of my family.”

He shrugged. “Everybody’s got a little bit of crazy, right? It’s not a big deal.”

“What did my mother ask you?”

“She wanted to make sure I wasn’t planning on proposing this weekend for real.”

“Ohhh. Because pretending to be engaged would ruin it.”

“Exactly. She also asked if we could swing by a jewelry store and pick up a fake engagement ring. I guess she doesn’t have one you could wear?”

I thought for a moment. “Not that would fit me. She’s tiny.”

“So we’ll get one, then. There’s bound to be a jewelry store between here and Asheville.”

“We don’t need a real jewelry store. I’m sure we can find some cheap costume jewelry somewhere.”

“So I can look like I bought you something cheap? No way. I’ll spend the money, you wear the ring for the weekend, then we’ll stop and return it on our way home.”

“I guess that could work. This feels totally ridiculous though, just for the record. I want to make sure you hear me say that. I am baffled at the absurdity of my own life right now.”

Simon grinned. “I’m having fun.” He pulled out his phone and opened Google Maps. After a few clicks and scrolls, he held it up. “Um. There’s a Walmart in seven miles.”

“That’s your idea of not cheap?”

“I was being funny. There’s not really anything between here and . . . Marion? Is that a good place to stop?”

“If we’re stopping in Marion, we might as well just stop in Asheville. There will be plenty to choose from there.”

“Can we go downtown? There’s this place . . . I’ve only been there once, but it has the greatest chocolate. Not hot chocolate. It’s . . . man, I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“The French Broad Chocolate Lounge? Liquid truffles.”

“Yes! That’s it. That place is awesome.”

“Okay. Downtown it is.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes. Simon was probably cataloging a list of reasons for why I was a crazy person, but all I could think of was what it would feel like to wear an engagement ring—Simon’s engagement ring—on my hand.

Simon cleared his throat. “So there’s one member of your family we haven’t talked about yet, and I feel like we should.”

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Is your father going to know we’re only pretending to be engaged? Because, here’s the thing. If I had proposed for real, I’d have never done it without meeting your father first. Does that make me old-school?”

“A little. I like it though. And knowing my father, he would appreciate the gesture.”

“He’s going to know, right? Even though this is all made up, I still want him to think I’m a nice guy.”

“I’m sure Mom filled him in. He’s been around Abuela enough. He’ll take this all in stride.”

“Anything else I should know before I meet him? He’s still going to think I’m your boyfriend, right? Even if he knows the engagement isn’t real?”

“Yes. The only person who knows the truth besides me, you, and Jamie is John.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t worry about my dad. He can be intimidating when you first meet him, mostly because he’s so tall and imposing, but he’s a total softy. Once he smiles, and he smiles at everyone, you’ll feel like you’ve been best friends for years.”

“I wish I played basketball.”

“Do you play at all? Like if you shot around in the driveway, would I be totally embarrassed to call you mine?”

“Completely. I don’t even think I can dribble.”

I shot him a look.

“Don’t look at me like that. I lived on the soccer field.”

“What about football? There’s a game on Thursday morning—an Asheville Ward Thanksgiving tradition. Are you up for it? Just flag football. No tackles.”

“Your dad plays?”

“Oh yes. He plays and coaches and refs and yells and generally likes to tell everyone on the field what to do.”

“Geez. I hope I’m on his team.”

“If John’s home by then, he’ll watch out for you. You’ll love John.”

Simon sat up straighter. “How did he respond when you first told him about our plan?”

“He thinks we’re crazy, but he’s cool with it. He for sure won’t blow our cover.”

I filled the next half hour talking about Bishop family culture. All the traditional Puerto Rican food we would include in our Thanksgiving dinner. The decorating for Christmas that would start literally seconds after the table was cleared. Our traditional drive up onto the parkway to see the mountain views and take a family photo and our trip to the Biltmore Estate to see the annual tree lighting. It made me anxious to get home, to see and be with my family.

Oddly, I didn’t expect it to be awkward, despite the realities of having a fake fiancé along for the ride. In my mind, imagining Simon with my family felt natural. So much so that if I let myself forget about the pretending, even for a moment, all that was left was excitement.

* * *

We parked in downtown Asheville in the garage on Biltmore Avenue. I hadn’t been downtown in a long time. The same familiar energy filled the air and reminded me of how much I loved where I had grown up. The food, the people, the sights and sounds of the city—it was a fun place. I pulled my deep-purple wool coat around my shoulders, happy for the protection against the cold November wind. We walked up to Pack Square, where a group of living statues stood on the corner, a crowd of observers gathered around. We watched until the statues shifted their pose, then we moved past, heading toward the jewelry store on Patton Avenue.

“I wonder how long it takes to get into all that body paint,” Simon said once we were out of earshot.

“No joke. And for real, what do they do when they need to scratch their nose?”

“They don’t, I guess. Except for when they shifted on purpose, I didn’t see a flinch from any of them. How do they stay warm?”

I turned around and looked back up the sidewalk. “Maybe we should go back and ask them all our questions. Think we could make them flinch if we do?”

Simon chuckled. “If Cooper were here, he’d be heckling.”

“He seems a lot like Jamie,” I said. “Not the heckling, I mean. Just in general.”

“A nineteen-year-old Jamie would have heckled. Age and experience have been good for him.”

I nodded. I could see that. Made me kind of glad I’d never met nineteen-year-old Jamie.

“And yes,” Simon said, “Cooper is a lot like him.”

We stopped on the sidewalk in front of the jewelry store we’d mapped out in the car. Simon opened the door. “After you.”

The store was busy. Which made sense the day before Thanksgiving, but still. It only added to the awkwardness of fake ring shopping. I told Simon we could get the most inexpensive one, but he insisted the ring had to be something I felt good in. We settled on a simple round stone set in white gold with two emeralds on either side of the diamond. It wasn’t crazy expensive, but it still made me cringe when Simon pulled out his credit card.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite baby sister.”

I spun around. John stood in the doorway, a dark-blue scarf wrapped around his neck, his collar pulled up high. I hadn’t seen him in more than a year, and the sight of him standing there nearly made me cry. I rushed into his arms, literally leaping off the ground to hug his neck. John was nearly as tall as our father. He even made my five foot nine seem tiny. He lowered me to the floor. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I, um . . .” I turned and looked back toward Simon, who was standing behind me. He stepped forward, handing me the engagement ring, then extended his hand to John.

“I’m Simon Hamilton,” he said.

“Ah. The fill-in boyfriend. John Bishop. Nice to meet you.”

“Fill-in fiancé, actually.” I slipped the ring on my finger and held up my hand. “Mom called this morning. She told Abuela we were already engaged, so we’re here to perpetuate her lie.”

John looked at my hand, then raised his eyebrows at Simon. “I’d like to see the ring you buy when it’s the real deal.”

I lowered my voice. “We’re going to return it after this weekend. It is gorgeous though, isn’t it?”

John shook his head, then looked at Simon. “I have no idea how you wound up in the middle of all this, but you are one good friend.”

I smacked John’s arm. “What are you even doing here? I thought for sure we wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to check on Abuela and make sure she’d handled her flight okay, so I came a day early. I just had lunch with a friend and happened to see you on my way back to the car.”

I put an arm around him, hugging him again. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You look good, Lane.” He looked at Simon. “It’s your brother, right? The real boyfriend? I hope he’s taking good care of her.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

They both ignored me. “Jamie is a good man. I can promise you that,” Simon said.

John nodded. “Good.” He turned back to me. “Hey, guess who I ran into outside? You remember Emma? From church? She lived over in Hendersonville and played the violin?”

“Yeah. We hung out at girls camp every year. She got married over the summer, didn’t she? To the famous piano player?”

“Elliott Hart. I met him. They were together, heading up to the Chocolate Lounge. You might still catch them if you want to say hi.”

“We were headed there anyway. Come with us.” I led the way as we all filed out of the jewelry store and headed back toward the square. The living statues had relocated to a different corner, but a guy with a guitar, a harmonica, and a foot drum had taken their place. He sang Christmas songs, which made me unexpectedly happy. I pulled my coat a little tighter. “I love this time of year. If only it would snow, everything would be perfect.”

“We’ve got plenty of that in Chicago,” John said. “You should come see me.”

“Why? So I can hang out in your apartment alone while you live at the hospital?”

“It’s not all that bad. I slept at home . . . three times last week. That’s pretty good.”

Emma and Elliott were coming out of the Chocolate Lounge when we got there. Emma smiled wide when she saw me and stepped forward to give me a hug. “Lane! It’s been so long! It’s so great to see you,” she said.

“You too! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding this summer. I was right in the middle of a move, and I couldn’t get away.”

She waved away my excuses. “Don’t even worry about it. This is my husband, Elliott.” She grinned at the word husband like she still wasn’t used to saying it out loud.

I shook his hand. “It’s great to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said.

I realized almost too late that I needed to introduce Simon. Which meant I needed to introduce Simon as someone. And probably not a “fill-in fiancé.” I was home, with people who went to church with my parents and needed to believe Simon was the real deal. “This is my boyfriend, Simon,” I blurted out.

Emma gave me a funny look. “Um, that diamond on your hand says more than boyfriend.”

I froze, looking at my hand like I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“It only happened yesterday,” Simon said, coming to the rescue. “I guess we’re still getting used to the new status.”

“Sorry. Yes. Fiancé.” I looked at Simon. “I swear you shouldn’t read anything into that.” I took a step closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. He pulled me close, his arm resting across my shoulders. It was the first time we’d really touched. Ever. Maybe handshakes and a random touch here and there, but never a hug. Never anything this personal. Aside from the delicious waves of heat the contact sent coursing through my body, what I felt more than anything was safety.

“You guys are a really cute couple,” Emma said. “Congratulations.”

We said our good-byes, then settled into a back booth of the Chocolate Lounge, Simon leaving John and me alone while he went to order for all of us.

John leaned across the booth. “What. Was. That?”

“What was what?”

“What was the way you looked all glowing and happy in the arms of the guy you are not supposed to be in love with?”

“I was not glowing and happy.”

He only raised his eyebrows, his look saying just how much he didn’t believe me. “Are you sure?”

I hesitated. “Yes?”

“Oh, Lane, what have you done? You were supposed to let that spark die!”

My shoulders slumped. “I have no idea what I’ve done, but it keeps getting messier and messier. I swear when I’m with Jamie I love him. I’m happy. Most of the time, anyway. He’s a great guy.”

“Wait a minute. What’s with the ‘most of the time, anyway’ disclaimer? Why are you qualifying your happiness?”

“I’m not.”

“You just did.”

I huffed. “Fine. Things have been tougher lately. He’s been working a lot and spending all his time across the country, and we’re just not feeling as connected.”

“That was a problem when we talked last month too.”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s been going on awhile. And now he’s moving for sure, and I have no idea where that leaves us. You remember how much I loved living in California.”

“Help me understand here, Lane. Are the two issues exclusive of each other? Things are rocky with Jamie, so you decided to take his brother for a test-drive? Or things are rocky with Jamie because you’d rather be with his brother instead?”

“I’m not test-driving anybody. Simon coming to Asheville was Jamie’s idea. He set the whole thing up because he felt so terrible for having to bail himself. And it all happened so fast; what was I supposed to say? Please, no, not him. I may have a crush on him, and that could be bad news for us?”

“So you’re admitting you have a crush.”

I sighed. “Please don’t say anything. I’ll figure stuff out. I’ll talk to Jamie when I get back home, but for now I just have to get through this weekend.”

Just get through the weekend.

Surely I could manage that.

Jamie: How’s it going?

Simon: Fine. Lane’s family is nice.

Jamie: Have you met the crazy grandma yet?

Simon: She isn’t crazy. She likes me. I speak Spanish.

Jamie: Ugh. Am I going to have to learn Spanish for this lady? How are Lane’s parents?

Simon: Her dad is huge. But nice. Her mom is tiny and intense. But also nice. Have you talked to Lane at all?

Jamie: Just through texts. I think she’s afraid to talk to me since you’re there. Who does that make me?

Simon: True.

Jamie: Thanks for doing this, man. I owe you one.

Simon: It’s fine. I’m having a good time.

Jamie: Not too good a time though, right?

Simon: You’re the one who asked me to do this.

Jamie: I know. It felt like a good idea at the time. But . . . I wish I was there.

Simon: Lane wishes so too.