Chapter Fifteen
Besides her father insinuating that perhaps the Pierces were working his little girl too hard and the blood-chilling fear that John would sell her out just to get rid of her, the introductions went reasonably well.
Word must have spread like wildfire because she suddenly had an entire town weaving a backstory for her.
Farmer Carson loudly told her father he had officiated John and Elvira’s wedding back in 1975, which would have made Elvira right around thirteen. However, no one except for Phoebe seemed to be doing the math.
Rainbow, who had finally dislodged Gordon’s tongue from her throat called out a cheery “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Pierce,” on her way to the food tables.
But Phoebe was convinced that the jig was up when she saw Sheriff Garfunkle approach with Michael Cardona. She was about to be arrested for lying her ass off. She just knew it.
“Phoebe, thanks so much for watching all the kids so we could go to dinner with John and Elvira the other night.” Hazel Garfunkle smiled winningly as she dragged Michael into their circle. “We really appreciated having a date night.”
Michael “Mr. Smooth” Cardona turned an interesting shade of baby pink and nodded until Phoebe thought his head might snap off his neck.
Phoebe managed to choke out a “Ha. No problem. Ha. Ha.” She couldn’t seem to stop laughing until Rose kicked her.
“Michael and Hazel have four kids,” Elvira lied, stepping into her role as the fictitious Mrs. Pierce and making the introductions to Phoebe’s family.
Michael’s head bobbed again, and he made a choking noise.
John clapped him on the back and grinned. “You okay there, Cardona?”
“Just great.”
Phoebe was just starting to enjoy herself when she spotted striped culottes heading their way. Ah, crap.
“You must be Denny and Diane,” Mrs. Nordemann said, shoving her way into the circle. “It’s so lovely to see you again. This is just like a family reunion!”
Phoebe again made the introductions and held her breath until her vision started to go black. There was no way to predict on which side Mrs. Nordemann’s loyalties lay. On one hand, she was family. On the other, she’d made it clear that marrying Phoebe off to John was her goal this summer.
Phoebe felt a nudge in her back and turned.
“Kid’s almost done with his cake,” John hissed in her ear.
Like clockwork, Billy opened his chocolate smeared mouth and let out a blood-curdling shriek. Phoebe clapped a hand over his mouth as her parents looked on in horror. “Ha. Ha. I think that means it’s nap time. Ha.” This time Rose elbowed her in the side. “How about I put the kids down for their nap, and you can show my family around, Elvira?”
Her friend smiled nicely for their audience. “I’d love to,” she said through gritted teeth. She leaned in. “Are you fricking crazy?”
“Please, please, please. Mrs. Nordemann might be about to sell me out, and if she doesn’t, someone is going to come looking for this baby, accuse me of kidnapping, and then I’ll be dragged back home left to spend the rest of my life wondering how everything would be different if I’d gotten my degree and moved out of my parents’ house.”
“I don’t know anything about farming,” Elvira hissed back.
“Perfect, neither does my dad. Just sell it, and I’ll be indebted to you for life.”
Elvira turned back to Phoebe’s family. “I’d be happy to show you around. Have a good nap, kids.” She patted Billy awkwardly on the head, and John shoved the baby into Phoebe’s arms.
“If you’ll excuse me, I left the grill unattended,” he announced.
Coward, Phoebe thought as she watched him high-tail it away from the mess.
Elvira led everyone off in the direction of the barn, and Phoebe cringed when she heard her friend’s comments about the barn. “Now this here’s the butter churning area,” Elvira said, gesturing toward the door to the barn. “It’s a sterile room so I can’t show you inside.”
“If I get through this, I promise to hardly ever lie anymore,” Phoebe promised the heavens as she deposited Millie back in her playpen and directed Billy back to his parents.
“Oh, there you are son. I wasn’t sure if we brought you,” his father said.
“Don’t mind him. He’s an over-indulger,” Ernest Washington whispered to her with a wink as he breezed past. “Also, don’t eat brownies made by a Fitzsimmons.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Phoebe caught up with the tour just as everyone was coming out of the house. “And there you have it. Pierce Acres,” Elvira was saying.
“You have a lovely home,” Diane said. Her mother, still smiling, grabbed Phoebe’s arm and dragged her off the porch. “You’re living here alone with John?” she hissed.
“Oh, my God, Mom! How did you know?”
“There are no pictures in the house, no toys, no crib, and Elvira thought the linen closet upstairs was the bathroom before she opened the door.”
“Does Dad know?”
“Sweetie, you know your father doesn’t notice anything that isn’t a direct male threat to his daughters.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Phoebe asked in a bare whisper.
“Did I tell him about the time you skipped school to go to the Bangles concert?”
“No.”
“How about the time I caught you and Rudy Walther making out in his dad’s Camaro in our driveway?”
Phoebe cringed. “No, and I’m officially sorry for every terrible teenage thing I ever put you through.”
“Then I’m not going to tell him about this either.”
Phoebe wrapped her mom in a hug. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. So, are you sleeping with John?”
“What? Mom! No!”
“Well, why not?” Diane asked, sneaking a look at John who was laughing over beer with Phoebe’s father. “He’s way better looking than Rudy Walther.”
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John was relieved when the last guests left at eight, the benefit of hosting an event on a Sunday in a farming town. If they’d done this on a Saturday, people would have stayed until dawn.
He and Phoebe worked silently through the cleanup, and he could feel her waiting for him to bring up her parents’ surprise visit. She’d lied right to his face the day he met her, which, to his thinking, evened the score for his less than receptive welcome of her.
All her big talk about honesty and communication… He was enjoying finally being able to hold something over her head, and it was driving her nuts, judging by the confounded looks she kept sneaking his way.
He went up to shower, giving her a few more minutes to stew over her own deceit. And when he came back downstairs, she was at her typewriter, fingers flying over the keys. He slid his notebook paper out of the drawer, grabbed a ballpoint pen from the cup on the counter, and settled in across the table from her.
She raised her gaze, and he saw worried eyes behind the sexy red frames of her glasses.
Ignoring her, he set to writing. The tension pumping off of her was palpable, and he enjoyed it so much he thought about not saying a word until morning.
But she broke first. “Are you doing homework?” she asked, shoving her glasses up her nose.
He didn’t bother looking up. “Something like that.”
“We’re not back to those answers again, are we?” Phoebe groaned.
John put his pen down and studied her. “It’s something I do sometimes to unwind.”
“What is?” she pressed.
“I write.”
Now he had her full attention. He could feel her guilt over the lie move to the back of her mind, crowded out by curiosity. “Write what?” She leaned forward in her chair trying to see his paper over her mammoth machine.
“Just stuff,” he shrugged. “Like what happens during the day.”
“Like a journal?”
“This feels like badgering.”
She held up her hands in peace. “Sorry. Just forget I’m here. Go back to what you were doing.”
He picked up his pen and sighed. “I can feel you staring at me.”
“What are you writing about?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“You sure you’re not from around here? You have the nosiness nailed.”
“Come on! Tell me.”
“I’m writing about what a big fat liar my grad student is.”
“Damn it! I knew you were going to throw it in my face,” she screeched.
“Are you even in grad school, or was that another lie? Is your first name really Allen?”
“You would have sent me home if I told you the truth!”
“You’re damn right I would. And I can’t wait for you to have a kid that uses that excuse on you so you can hear how ridiculous it is.”
“You know I needed this.”
“Enough to lie to my face and then beg for my help when your big fat lie blew up in your face.”
She put her head down on the table. “Things were so much easier when you were the one wrong about everything.”
“You know what’s funny?” he asked, savoring the upper hand for once. You’re all ‘female empowerment’ until daddy shows up, and then you revert to a twelve-year-old.”
“Force of habit. The man grounded me for two weeks when I was sixteen because my best friend got caught sneaking a boy into her basement to play seven minutes in heaven. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to chase off Melvin yet.”
“You’re an adult,” he reminded her. “Don’t you think it’s childish and manipulative to still be lying to get your way?” It was like poking a hysterical bear.
“You do not understand what it’s like to grow up with disappointing your parents being the worst punishment available.”
Yeah, he did. But that’s what good parents did.
“You lied to your parents, you lied to me, and then you forced me to cover for you.” He shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Phoebe.”
She groaned, looking to the ceiling as if wishing for divine intervention. When none came, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry for lying to you and making you pretend to be married to Elvira and stealing children. Happy?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I’m pretty happy.”
“You’re the worst person to apologize to,” she grumbled.
“I’m sure it’s just the first of many times,” John said cheerfully. “You’ll get better at it.”