by Jae
“Yeah. So Claire does it too?”
“I’m sitting right here,” Claire grumbled. “No need to talk about me in the third person. And just for your information, Lana has seduced me into eating carbs after six a time or two.”
Steph swirled her fork through her quinoa and looked from Claire to Lana and back with a knowing grin. “Seduced you, hm?”
Claire looked as if she wanted to throw a Brussels sprout at her, but, of course, the Renshaws wouldn’t stand for such uncivilized behavior. “You’re just jealous because I’m in a happy relationship with a wonderful woman and you aren’t.”
Her words warmed Lana from the inside out. She’s just saying that to one-up her sister, you idiot.
“Why would I be jealous of that? I’m free to sleep with any hot guy and any beautiful woman in Los Angeles.”
“Yes, and at the rate you’re going, you’ll—”
Before she could basically accuse her sister of being a slut, Lana kicked her beneath the table.
“Ouch.” Claire reached beneath the table to rub her shin and glared at her sister.
“Wasn’t me.” Steph smiled at Lana. “Thanks.”
Dr. Renshaw…James…cleared his throat. “So, Claire, tell us about your meeting with the people from Wishing Tree Publishing. Do you think they’ll be able to make a final decision right away?”
Lana somehow made it through dinner despite her knotted stomach. Once the dishes were done, Claire grabbed her hand and dragged her outside under the pretense of showing her the garden and the pool.
They settled beneath the poolside pergola, on a two-person lounge chair.
“Let’s look all snuggly so that no one will disturb us,” Claire whispered into her ear.
The warm breath bathing her ear made Lana shiver despite the rays of the setting sun. She cuddled against Claire’s side and once again marveled at how well their bodies fit against each other, despite how different they were.
“What did my mother say to you in the kitchen?” Claire asked. “I swear if she said anything like Darlene did…”
So closely pressed together, Lana could feel Claire tremble with suppressed fury.
Her protectiveness felt good, but she didn’t deserve it. “What did Darlene say?”
“Nothing worth repeating. So, what happened in the kitchen?”
Lana stared out across the pool. The water shimmered in the orange hues of the sunset, and the warm June breeze stirred the leaves of the fruit trees at the edge of the property. If circumstances were different, she would really enjoy sitting here with Claire. “I…I made a mistake. A really bad one.”
Claire reached up with one hand and massaged one of Lana’s shoulders. “You’re as tense as a rock. Relax. It can’t be that bad.”
Lana sighed. “You’ve got no idea.”
“What?” Claire laughed a little, but she sounded apprehensive too. “You told them you’re an actress who gets fifty thousand dollars to pretend to be my loving partner?”
“No, not quite as bad, but not that much better. I accidentally told them—”
“Ah, there you two are.” Claire’s mother stepped outside. She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked at them.
Instinctively, Lana pressed closer to Claire, who did the same.
“Do you have a minute, Claire?” Diane asked. “I’d like you to take a look at the leftovers and decide what you want to take.”
Try none, Lana thought.
“Just give me whatever you don’t want,” Claire said.
“No. Come pick your own.” Her mother waved her hand in a way that brooked no refusal.
After a soft touch to Lana’s thigh, Claire reluctantly got up from the lounge chair. “Be right back.”
Lana watched them leave with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Diane wouldn’t tell Claire anything about her supposed plan to propose to her, would she?
The lounge chair felt too wide and lonely for just her, so Lana stood and rolled up her best pair of slacks. She sat at the pool, close to the end, and put her feet on the top step. At least she’d get to enjoy this little bit of the pool during what would surely be her first and only visit to this house.
Someone sat next to her, and without having to look, Lana knew it wasn’t Claire.
“Hey.” Steph dangled her legs into the pool, making Lana wish she’d worn shorts too. “Mom kicked me out of the kitchen. Seems like she wants to talk to Claire alone.”
Lana squeezed her eyes shut. Should she charge into the kitchen, making up some excuse about not feeling well, so she could rescue Claire from this situation?
“Don’t worry.” Steph nudged her. “I’ve been through a lot of these one-on-one conversations with Mom when I was younger. They’re not so bad. It’s when Mom and Dad gang up on you that you know you’re about to be grounded until the day you retire.”
Lana had to smile at her words and the dramatic gesturing that went with them. “Did that happen a lot when you were growing up?”
Steph laughed. “Sometimes it seemed like every other day.”
“To Claire too?” Lana asked, even though she could already guess the answer.
“Nah. She was always Miss Goody Two-Shoes and never did anything she wasn’t supposed to.”
“You know, it’s not that she thinks she’s better than anyone else,” Lana said. “She just can’t help setting very high standards, especially for herself.”
Wait a minute… Why was she defending Claire, whose perfectionism had annoyed her from the day she’d moved in with her?
Because that’s what a girlfriend would do. And because she’d gotten to know Claire better since then and had come to like her, annoying little quirks and all.
“Yeah, I know,” Steph said. “It’s still annoying as hell. Do you have any siblings?”
“A younger brother. He can’t do any wrong in my mother’s eyes either, but unlike Claire, he doesn’t have many redeeming qualities.”
Steph swirled her toes through the pool. “Hmm.”
“Did I understand that correctly earlier? You’re a stand-up comedian?”
“Sure am. With two parents and a sister who’re all psychologists, it was the obvious choice,” Steph said with a straight face. “I mean, family dinners like tonight… That’s pure comedy gold.”
Lana wondered whether she’d somehow make it into one of Steph’s routines. “Well, you’ve got my respect. Live audiences are tough.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve been booed out of so many backrooms of pizza places that the smell of pizza still triggers my flight reflex.” Steph withdrew one leg from the pool and half turned to study her. “You’ve got some experience with live performances too? Claire never mentioned what you do for a living. Not that she mentioned you at all.”
God, this really wasn’t her day. She’d made a second mistake, but this one could be corrected. “Oh, no, the stage isn’t my thing.” And after her failures tonight, maybe that was even the truth. “I just know a bit about stand-up comedy because one of my exes was a comedian.”
That was true. She and Katrina had met when Lana had done a few open mics to improve her comedic timing.
“What’s her name?” Steph wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knee and leaned her chin on top. She seemed so relaxed and comfortable in her skin that it was hard to believe that she and Claire were related. “Maybe I know her.”
“Katrina Villanueva.”
“Oh. Um, yeah, I’ve seen one of her routines.”
Steph might be a comedian, but she was definitely not a good actress. “You think she’s not very funny, don’t you? I told her the same thing when she tossed all my clothes out the window.”
Steph laughed. “You should be a comedian. You’ve got the dead-pan face down pat.” She paused. “Did she really toss your stuff out the window?”
“No. I managed to end all my relationships in a more or less civilized manner.”
Claire’s sister sobered and regarded Lana with a serious expression.
For the first time, Lana realized that her eyes were the same gray color as Claire’s.
“Good,” Steph said. “Claire and I often don’t see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her hurt.”
Oh shit. She had gotten herself into an if-you-hurt-my-sister-I’ll-kill-you conversation without even realizing. Lana swallowed. “I don’t want to ever hurt her either.”
Her tone must have conveyed the right amount of sincerity, because the intensity of Steph’s gaze lessened and her carefree grin returned. “So, how did the two of you meet? You don’t seem like someone who’d attend those boring events that Claire goes to.”
Finally they were back on solid ground. At least she and Claire had rehearsed that part of their plan. “Our first meeting wasn’t boring at all. I ran her down with my roller skates.”
Steph laughed and leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
When her mother had sent Steph outside to keep Lana company, Claire had started to become concerned, but what really set off her alarm bells was when her father entered the kitchen.
Her parents stood side by side in the middle of the room, gazing at her with serious but carefully neutral expressions.
Uh-oh. Claire knew what that meant. Not that she had ever personally experienced it, but she’d watched it happen to Steph often enough as a child: her parents thought it was time for an intervention and wanted to present a united front.
Claire swallowed heavily and fought the urge to grab the leftovers and run. Finally, she decided to take the initiative instead of waiting for them to make the first move. “Let me guess… You don’t like Lana and think she’s all wrong for me.”
“Oh no,” her mother said immediately. “She’s…well, different, but I really like her.”
It sounded sincere, not like one of her carefully diplomatic replies.
Claire relaxed a little. She couldn’t help shaking her head at the irony of it all. It wasn’t that her parents had ever openly criticized any of her girlfriends, but neither had they ever told her they really liked one of them. Even Steph seemed to like Lana, and that was definitely a first.
“What is it, then?” Claire asked.
Her parents exchanged a long look, communicating in that silent way that had always fascinated Claire.
“Do you remember the letters to Santa that you and your sister wrote when you were kids?” her father asked.
Where was he going with this? Claire eyed them, but then answered, “Sure. I remember the year Steph wrote down that what she wanted most for Christmas was a —”
“Uh, yeah, we remember that too.” Her mother cleared her throat. “What your father is trying to say is that Stephanie was usually done within two minutes, but it always took you days to finish your letter.”
Claire shrugged. “I wanted to get it right.”
“Exactly,” her father said. “You were like that in everything, even ordering in a restaurant. It took you even longer than your mother to make up your mind because you studied every single dish on the menu before making a choice.”
“That’s why we are a little concerned now,” her mother took up the thread. “It’s not like you to rush into a relationship.”
So that was where this was going. “I’m not rushing into anything, Mom.” She knew it was a lame attempt to convince her parents it wasn’t that out of character for her, but what else could she say? “I just decided that I don’t want to miss out on having a chance at love with Lana because society expects me to mourn the end of my engagement for a year or something.”
“It’s not about societal expectations,” her mother said. “I don’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”
Ouch. Claire winced. There it was: mistake. So they did think she was to blame for the end of her relationship with Abby. Claire clenched her teeth. “I’m not. Lana isn’t anything like Abby.”
“I didn’t say she was,” her mother said. “Lana seems to be a lovely woman. This isn’t about her. It’s about you and where you are emotionally. Four months ago, you were planning your wedding to another woman, and now you’re nearly wearing the r—”
Her father cleared his throat and gave his wife a warning glance.
Claire’s mother snapped her mouth shut.
Furrowing her brow, Claire looked back and forth between them. “Am I missing something? Yesterday, on the phone, you seemed shocked and hurt—and I totally get that—but you seemed open to the idea of me dating someone else. But now that you’ve met her, you’re suddenly convinced I’m moving too fast.”
Her father sighed. “All we’re asking you is to make sure you’re making the right decisions for the right reasons—and at the right time. If what you and Lana have is the real deal, waiting a little to make any life-altering decisions won’t make a difference.”
Life-altering decisions? What the heck were they talking about? It wasn’t as if Lana could get her pregnant, even if they were having sex.
It was all a moot point anyway because what she and Lana had wasn’t the real deal; it was—in Lana’s words—as fake as her grandmother’s teeth. So why was she having this standoff in the kitchen, defending her pretend relationship to her parents?
“The only life-altering decision I’m about to make is hopefully signing that publishing deal,” Claire said.
Her mother exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath. “Good. Just make sure Lana understands where you’re coming from and doesn’t take it as a rejection.”
“Rejection…of what?”
“You’ll understand when the time comes.” Her mother patted Claire’s arm. “Now tell me which of the leftovers you want.”
Claire stared from her mother to the kale casserole and back. She still had no idea what was going on, but it probably didn’t matter. They’d make it out of here—hopefully within the next ten minutes—and once the book deal went through, she’d wait a few weeks before telling her parents they had split up.
Since her parents were already concerned about her moving too fast and making the wrong decisions, they’d definitely believe that Lana had only been a rebound girlfriend, not meant for life.
When they finally left the house with a bag full of food, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. In contrast, Lana still seemed as tense as when they had arrived. Was it because Steph had left the house with them, so they had to keep up their roles for a little longer?
Claire furrowed her brow, squeezed Lana’s hand, and sent her a questioning look.
“I’ll tell you in a second,” Lana mouthed with a meaningful glance at Steph.
They walked down the driveway. Steph’s turquoise metallic Mini Cooper convertible was parked behind Claire’s car.
As Claire deposited the leftovers in the backseat of her Audi, Steph lingered next to them. To Claire’s surprise, her sister hugged Lana. “It was great to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Lana said, sounding sincere.
“Maybe you can work a miracle and drag my sister to one of my shows.”
Claire grimaced. “To hear you make a comedy routine out of our family or my private life? No, thanks. I’m not into public humiliation.”
Steph regarded her with a shake of her head. “You really should learn not to take yourself so seriously.”
“Or maybe you should learn to take some things more seriously,” Claire countered.
Lana stepped between them. “Girls, don’t make me separate you.”
Steph laughed and hopped into her car. “See ya, sis. Bye, Lana.”
“See you later,” Claire said.
She opened the passenger-side door for Lana, but instead of getting in, Lana dug in her heels and kept hold of Claire’s hand. “Um, ca
n we…?” She glanced at Steph, who was still behind them, putting down the soft top of her convertible. “…go for a walk before we drive home? I’d love to see the neighborhood where you grew up.”
“Now? It’s dark. You won’t see much.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lana said. As if for Steph’s benefit, she added, “Who knows when I’ll get you away from work again.”
“All right.” Claire closed the door and relocked the car.
They were still within Steph’s line of sight, so neither let go of the other’s hand as they strolled down the street. The warm breeze rustled through the palm trees to their left and right.
Maybe a short walk hadn’t been such a bad idea before the craziness of New York City started tomorrow. This was actually nice.
Lana didn’t say a word, not even after Steph had driven past them, honking and waving.
“What is it?” Claire asked softly.
Lana kept her gaze on the sidewalk. “I didn’t want to tell you in the car.”
The tension returned to Claire’s muscles. “Tell me what?”
“What happened earlier, when your mother kidnapped me.”
Claire squeezed her hand and only then realized she was still holding it. With Steph no longer watching, she could let go now, but did she really want to?
No, she decided. Lana’s fingers felt nice in hers. Besides, some of her parents’ nosy neighbors might be peeking out of their windows to see who’d been honking on their quiet street.
Claire waited, giving Lana the opportunity to say whatever she had to say in her own time. She had learned to remain composed in her years as a therapist, but now it was admittedly hard to be patient.
“I made a mistake,” Lana finally said.
“So you said earlier. What happened?”
“I…” Lana peeked over at her like a puppy who’d piddled on the carpet and now wanted to see how angry its owner was. “Meeting your sister kind of threw me off my game, so I got my stories confused and accidentally introduced myself as your fiancée.”
In the sudden silence, the sound of the neighbors’ sprinkler seemed to become louder.