Page 75 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

Katherina’s expression falls but she nods.

I smile at George, grateful that he’s able to so easily diffuse the situation.

And his suggestion that we go talk to his parents is another way for him to say that it doesn’t matter what job I choose.

He still wants me, regardless of my employment.

It occurs to me that he’d never see me as a burden. No matter what our circumstances were.

Even if those circumstances are difficult. He’ll always stand by my side and make sure I know I’m loved.

How did I get so lucky?

Breakfast is lively. Afterward, George and I go to talk with his parents.

Nerves clench in my stomach.

Parents have always disappointed me. Knowing that George’s parents have apologized to him about their behavior, though, gives me hope.

“I don’t think my relationship with my mother can ever be fixed,” I say on the drive. “Even if she did change, I’m not sure I can ever forgive her.”

George takes my hand, his eyes not leaving the road. “And perhaps that will never happen. You have to protect yourself, even if it’s against someone who should be on your side.”

I lean back into the seat. “I just worry that I’m the problem. And that, somehow, I’ll infect your relationship with your parents.”

George laughs. “You’re not a typhoon Mary. Look at it this way. June has problems with you, Katherina, and Lynn. What’s the common denominator. Spoiler alert, it's not you.”

I squeeze his hand. “Thanks.”

“I’m here for you, Cat. Always know that.”

***

A purple storm blows in from the ocean that night.

I stand at the kitchen window, a shawl wrapped around my shoulders. The events of the day turn over in my mind.

The talk with Jason and Edwina went far better than I could have hoped. Even before we explained the situation with my mother, Edwina burst into tears. She hugged me and apologized about a dozen times.

Apparently, they were determined to turn a new leaf and be better parents.

A crash of thunder makes me jump.

Grandma hurries over and closes the curtains. “Don’t stand in front of the window. I had a friend who was standing in the window during a thunderstorm, and she was hit by lightning.”

“Don’t you have a lightning protection system?” I ask, letting her lead me away.

“There’s no point in tempting fate.”

That’s fair enough.

“Where’s Katherina?” I ask as she goes to the living room. All of Grandma’s things have been put back in order, making it feel complete.

“Reading in her room. Apparently, storms are the best time to read horror novels.” Grandma snorts and shakes her head.

She’s twitchy, her head turning toward the window every time there’s a burst of thunder.

I never knew Grandma was afraid of storms before.

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