Page 13 of Faking it for Gran's Sake

“Me?” I huff. “I’ve got no idea how we’ll pull this off.”

Mason’s eyes go wide. “Are you seriously willing to have a wedding?”

I scrunch my brows. “Not a real one.”

“How would we make it not real?”

I shake my head. “Exactly. It’s too complicated.” I rub my forehead. “Mason, I think you need to tell her the truth.”

Mason scratches the back of his head. “Didn’t you see her face? She lit up at the mention of our wedding. How can I crush her hopes?” He palms his chest.

He’s genuinely torn about it. “I could send her to the grave sooner.” His eyes flash to mine. “Sorry. I don’t mean to lay a guilt trip on you. I know you love her, and this must be hard on you too.” He turns and paces the parking lot. “We’ll find a solution.”

He stops and stares at me. “Let’s sleep on it.” He blinks. “I mean. Not together.” He chuckles. “You know what I mean. Let’s let it ride for a while, and we’ll figure something out.”

I massage my temples. “Okay.”

“Have you told your mom about our situation?” he asks.

“No.” I scoop Cinda into my arms and rub my face into her fur. The scent of lavender shampoo doesn’t ground me. “But I might need to explain, especially if we go as far as a fake wedding. Mom’s open-minded but . . .” I shrug. “This is all a little too crazy. Even for her.” I stretch my neck and look to the sky. “There’s no way Dad will walk me down the aisle.” I let my dog jump out of my arms. “It’s hard enough getting him to our family gatherings. If it were my actual wedding, he’d be there. But not for an old lady he doesn’t know. Nothing in it for him.” Gee. I’m making my dad sound like a hard man. But he is self-centered. He would disapprove of the whole thing anyway. He liked Mason since they could talk business for hours. Dad was disappointed when I broke off the engagement. He thought it petty of me to label Mason a workaholic. Why would he believe anything else? Dad is the president of workaholics anonymous.

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I PICK AT THE FRAYED corner of Mom’s sofa. The artificial light beaming into my vision makes me uneasy like a lie detector is strapped to my wrist. But I’m coming clean. At least to Mom. “I’ve found myself in a bit of a situation,” I say.

Mom quirks a brow and leans in, making her hazelnut hair brush her cheeks. “Do tell.”

I pull in a deep breath. “I’ve been seeing Mason again.”

Mom’s eyes bulge, and she pitter-pats her hands like an excited seal begging for fish.

My hand slices the air. “That came out wrong. I mean, I’ve seen Mason a couple of times, and it’s caused a terrible predicament.”

“Oh.” Mom’s jaw drops. “What happened?”

My sister calls from the front door and makes her way into the house. I bolt upright and give an awkward wave.

Brielle blinks at me, then gathers me into a hug. “How are you?” She pulls back and looks me over, like an insightful detective. “Doing well?”

Mom pats the sofa next to her. “Come and sit. Lauren was about to tell me something important. She’s been seeing Mason again.”

Brielle jumps back, her blonde curls bouncing. “Seriously?”

I huff out some air. “Not like that. Well, actually . . .” I massage my forehead. It’s hard getting the words out. They won’t understand.

Brielle flops onto the sofa, blue eyes bright. “Spill it, then.”

I sit across from them and tug on the hem of my sweater. “It’s not exciting. More like sad.” I meet their glued gazes. “His gran isn’t doing so great. She’s in a nursing home. Mason doesn’t know how many months she has left.” My arms slacken to my lap, and I pick at my fingernails. “So far, she seems in good spirits and can still get around.” My teeth scrape over my bottom lip. “She uses a wheelchair and has to take pain medicine. On first appearance, Gran looks like she’ll live to a hundred. But I don’t know the full details yet. I’m cautious about asking.”

Mom tilts her head. “She’s a sweet old lady. Lots of fire in those veins. You can’t win an argument against Mason’s grandmother.”

I let out a small laugh. “That’s the truth.”

Mom swings one leg over her knee. “How are you in a predicament?”

I dart a glance between Mom and Brielle. Here goes. “Mason didn’t have the heart to tell Gran we aren’t together.” I lift my left hand and wave my fingers, flashing the ring.

Brielle’s brows bounce off the ceiling. “Whoa.”

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