Page 134 of Fake As Puck
“Mrs. Carmack—”
“Linda.”
“Linda. I don’t know if—”
“Liv!” Tessa appears at our table, slightly out of breath.
“I’m just having a chat with your mother.”
“About what?” She looks at her mom.
“About the fact that your brother’s been in love with this girl for years and she’s been too scared to admit she loves him back,” Linda says matter-of-factly.
“Mom!” Tessa says.
“What? It’s true.”
“You can’t just—”
“I can and I did. And now we’re going to help them figure it out.”
“We are?” Tessa asks, confused. She looks at me.
“We are. This is exactly the kind of romantic gesture this family needs.”
“What kind of romantic gesture?” I ask, suddenly nervous.
“The kind where you tell him how you feel,” Linda says. “Tonight. At the reception.”
Now I’m flabbergasted. “I can’t just—”
“You can and you will. Tessa, tell me you brought that gorgeous dress you were talking about.”
“The green one? Yeah, it’s in my room.”
“Perfect. And the shoes?”
“The strappy ones. In her suitcase.”
“Even better. And the location?”
“I was thinking the garden. By the fountain. Very romantic.”
“What is happening? What are you two planning right now?”
They both look at me and say, “You’ll see.”
This feels like some sort of sick way to be welcomed into the family.
Because they look at each other and smile.
And my stomach turns into knots at the sight.
37
I can’t sleep.
Tessa’s guest bed is comfortable enough, and the room is quiet except for the distant sound of late-night conversations drifting up from the terrace below. But my brain won’t shut off.
