Page 20 of Misadventures With My Fake Fiancé

I shook my head. “No, sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't know there was going to be someone as cool as you here.”

He smiled. “I'll check later to be sure.”

I didn't know how to answer, so I decided to eat instead.

“Not everyone brings you presents, champ,” Banks told his son, ruffling his hair.

Alex pouted and crossed his arms over his chest but I could see the little wheels spinning. I had no doubt he'd follow through with his words and search my bags.

“Speaking of presents—” Uncle Bob said over a forkful of slaw, “—I got this little treasure in the mail the other day and planned to keep it for myself. Sorry, slugger, it's not something you'd like,” he told Alex, then looked back at me. “But after hearing you're engaged and all to the big lug, I thought it should go to you. I'm mighty proud to see a woman who knows how to fish. And to land Mike.”

We were all staring at Uncle Bob, some with food halfway to their mouth. I guess Uncle Bob didn't hand out gifts very often.

Uncle Bob put down his fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, then reached into his military coat pocket and pulled out a nondescript box about three inches square. He handed it to Mrs. O, who passed it to Mike, who passed it to me.

I smiled at Uncle Bob.

He winked at me, which was, I guess, a sign of reassurance. Or an eye tick.

Opening the lid, everyone around the table leaned in to see. Inside was a large pewter cross on a thick silver chain. I lifted the chain from the box, the pendant dangling heavily. There were a few oohs and aahs around the table, but I was focused solely on the gift.

It was the biggest cross necklace I'd seen outside of an inner-city gangster on TV or a nun fromThe Sound of Music.

“Wow,” I said. “Uncle Bob. Thank you, but you shouldn't have.”Really, you shouldn't have.What was the deal with the men in the family and big, ugly jewelry?

“See, I knew I liked her. Good manners.” He shoveled some coleslaw into his mouth.

“Put it on, Violet,” Trish said from across the table.

I didn't have much choice. I didn't want to be rude. I slid the heavy chain over my neck and pulled my hair out from under it. The cross hung so low that the bottom portion of it hit my belly button. I was going to need a back brace by the end of the day.

“She looks like a rapper, Daddy!” Alex commented.

“It's a piece from the Civil War. In fact, it's a wedding present from Jefferson Davis to his second wife, Varina Howell Davis.”

One had to wonder how long that marriage lasted.

“My, Bob, that must be a very special piece. Shouldn't it be in a museum?” Mrs. O asked.

I looked to Mike to see his reaction. He reached over and picked up the cross to get a closer look, his knuckles brushing over my breast as he did so. “That's really heavy.”

“You did that on purpose,” I hissed in Mike's ear, my skin tingling where he'daccidentallytouched me.

He winked at me, too.

“Supposedly, it prevented a northern soldier from successfully stabbing Mrs. Davis when she and her husband were trying to flee the country when the war ended. But it's just a replica. Not the real deal.”

If I was in danger, I could just throw it at my attacker like a ninja star. Maybe that's how Mrs. Davis had saved herself.

“Thanks, Uncle Bob. This was really sweet of you.” Itwassweet of him. My mother always said it was the thought that counted. He certainly didn't need to get me an engagement gift, but a fishing pole could have worked, too.

I glanced at Mike who was very focused on the food on his plate. He’d trapped me into a fake engagement andIwas the one stuck with the world's ugliest ring and a rapper necklace. Didn't Uncle Bob have a gift for him as well?

“We were so excited to hear Mike was engaged. Have you set a date yet?” Trish asked, adding dressing to her salad. There was only so much we could talk about when it came to the necklace—without hurting Uncle Bob's feelings, at least.

I'd just taken a huge bite of my caribou hot dog, which was delicious, and had to chew and chew while everyone's eyes were on me, waiting. I pivoted and gave Mike a look.

“Oh, right. Well, we haven't decided yet. Maybe next summer when school's out,” Mike told everyone, idly moving his fork around on his cleaned plate.

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