Page 4 of An Engagement Pact

I’M STILL THINKINGabout possibilities that evening.

All day, I’ve been filled with a jittery kind of excitement I’ve only experienced a few times in my life. When my mom was finally about to get a job after a year of unemployment. When I got news of receiving a full scholarship to college. When I first met the guy who ended up being my boyfriend for three years in college.

Like something good and life-changing is almost within my grasp.

If it was a normal situation or opportunity, I would grab for it without even a second thought, but there’s nothing normal about this. Getting engaged to a man who is almost a stranger. Marrying him.

It’s just... odd, and so I don’t trust it.

I’ve been living with Jim and Esther Emerson since I moved to Green Valley last year. He’s my mother’s cousin, but I call them Uncle Jim and Aunt Esther. Ever since my mother died, they and their daughter, Savannah, are the only family I have left. That’s why I moved back to Green Valley after I graduated from college and broke up with my boyfriend.

I have no one else.

Because I’m still thinking about Dan’s offer, I’m distracted through dinner. Jim and Esther are kind, practical people who worked hard all their lives. Only in the past few years, ever since their daughter married a rich man, have they had any sort of financial security. She paid off their town house and all their medical bills from when Esther was treated for cancer, and they got back a few weeks ago from a fancy vacation in the Caribbean with their daughter and son-in-law.

They still act like the aunt and uncle I’ve always known, and they’ve been incredibly generous to let me live with them rent-free so I can save up money.

After dinner, I help with the dishes—I’d do them all myself, but Esther simply won’t let me—while Jim flips through the newspaper he still receives every morning but barely reads.

“What’s the matter, Vicky?” Esther asks after a minute of rinsing and loading the dishwasher in silence.

“Nothing,” I tell her with a smile. “I’m sorry if I’m out of it today.”

“Is something in particular distracting you?”

I shrug, awkward and embarrassed by the personal question.

I was raised by a single mother who could barely make ends meet. I spent hours after school on my own and did most of the grocery shopping and cooking for both of us. I learned to smile brightly and actively listen when people talk so that others think I’m friendly and warm, but in reality, I’m fiercely independent. I don’t let people in easily, and I never let myself become genuinely vulnerable.

Not even with someone I care about as much as Aunt Esther. The one time I did with Rick, my college boyfriend, I ended up paying a very high price.

“Not really. Although I did have an unfortunate incident this morning, and Oscar got someone muddy.”

“Oh dear. Who was it? Some people around here can be real assholes about innocent mistakes. Is it going to be a problem with your job?”

“I don’t think so. He seemed to take it as well as anyone would, and I don’t think he’s going to report it. But I still feel bad about it.”

Jim and Esther helped me get the job at Lock-N-Leash since they know the owners, so I’d feel terrible if I managed to blow it. But Dan didn’t seem annoyed at all, so I can’t imagine he’d cause a stink with my boss.

“Well, everyone makes the occasional mistake. Try not to hold yourself to impossible standards.”

I can’t help laughing at that. “That’s easier said than done.”

“I know it is.” Esther’s blue eyes are kind. “You’re so much like Savannah. She was always trying to do things perfectly and entirely on her own so no one could judge her or find her lacking. It makes you tough. But it doesn’t always make you happy.”

I’m shifting from foot to foot. I’m fine with small talk. Honestly, I think I’m pretty good at that—at making conversation and conveying interest and good will even if I’m not feeling it.

But I’m not good at depth. At real sharing of the self. At anything too sincere. Too earnest.

“Yeah. I’m sure that’s right,” I manage to say.

“Don’t pester her, Esther,” Jim says from over his newspaper. “She’s not looking for a deep talk right now.”

“It’s fine,” I say, giggling because he’s obviously teasing his wife. “I appreciate the advice. But it’s not exactly something that’s easy to change about yourself.”

“No, it’s not,” Esther said. “It took Savannah a long time and a year being married before she could really open up.”

“Are y’all seriously talking about me behind my back?” The voice from the kitchen doorway surprises me. I whirl around to see Savannah herself grinning at us.

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