Page 59 of Faking the Pass
For one thing, I didn’t ever get into the details of my love life with my parents.
For another, if this fake relationship did turn into a fake marriage, I didn’t want my mom’s heart to be broken that I was having a fake wedding.
Until I knew how it was all going to shake out, I planned to just avoid the whole discussion with her and Dad. I’d just keep telling them I was fine and I was happy and that I’d tell her all about it when there was something to tell.
“Well thanks for running interference,” I said to Dylan. “How’s Lily?”
He had his daughter this week, and while I knew he lived for his visitation weeks, it was challenging during the season for him to spend as much time with her as he wanted.
She was spending a lot of her time with Mom and Dad, which of course thrilled them. They’d become unrepentant grandchild hoarders, pestering all four of us for more.
“She’s great,” Dylan said. “She told me a joke before I dropped her off at Mom and Dad’s this morning. Get ready for it. What’s a word that starts with F and ends with U-C-K?”
Both my brows lifted as I waited for the punchline.
“Firetruck.” He grinned widely and shook his head. “I hope you have a little girl one of these days, Pres. It’s the best.”
“Yeah, well at the moment I have my hands pretty firetrucking full with one not-so-little girl. I’m worried about Rosie. I think she might be depressed.”
“Makes sense. She’s been through a lot,” Dylan said. “You should get Jessica to take her out to lunch or something.”
“That’s a good idea. So far she hasn’t wanted to leave the house.”
“She’s probably waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared about what that spray-tanned little prick might do. She should at least get outside for some sun. Lack of vitamin D can lead to depression—not to mention hair loss.”
“Okay doc, thanks for the warning,” I teased. “I agree, but she keeps saying she’s ‘fine’ where she is.”
“Oooh. Yeah, ‘fine’ is no good,” Dylan agreed. “Mia used to say she was ‘fine’ all the time—right before she broke off our engagement.”
My youngest brother’s college girlfriend had become pregnant during their senior year and had seemed happy enough to accept his proposal, but she’d broken up with him before the wedding.
The breakup had coincidentally occurred justafterhe’d been picked last in the NFL draft, earning him the nickname, “Mr. Irrelevant.”
It was a term reserved for the very last player to go in the draft each year.
Unfortunately, Dylan had taken it to heart. He was a talented player, but he’d struggled a lot with his confidence since then.
It hadn’t helped that the girl who’d supposedly loved him dumped him as soon as it became apparent he wasn’t going to get a guaranteed salary or big signing bonus.
She’d married another player, by the way. One who went higher in the draft.
I didn’t call women the b-word—especially not the mother of my adorable niece—but if I everwereto use the word, I might use it for Mia.
“I’ll see what I can do to lure Rosie outside for some fresh air and sunshine,” I said. “Maybe it’ll help. Plus we’re not doing a whole lot to back up the true love reboot story so far.”
“You can get away with the hermit act for a few more days. People probably assume you two are keeping busyinside,” Dylan said.
“You could invite her on a walk,” he suggested. “And if you want to romance her for real, take her on a picnic. Womenlovepicnics.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for the tip. Talk to you later, D.”
After ending the call, I went for my daily swim then showered. Rosie was still in the guest room. Passing its closed door, I went to the pantry then inspected the contents of the fridge.
What did people eat on picnics anyway?
I hadn’t been on one since I was a little kid, and I was pretty sure my mom had just packed peanut butter and jelly for us all back then.
PB and J wasn’t going to get Rosie out of that room.
