Authors: Dara Girard
“You haven’t moved for fifteen minutes. Is there something wrong with The Plan?”
“No, The Plan is fine.”
He was the one in trouble
. He couldn’t stop thinking about Brenna. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and tease her and talk to her and... She made him tell her things only a few people knew. He hadn’t talked about his first marriage in years. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. Unfortunately, although she fit his qualifications, he knew he didn’t fit hers. But he would. He just had to figure out how.
Then again he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t like what he was feeling. He didn’t like not being able to concentrate. Not being in control of his emotions. His emotions were what had lead him to his ill-fated marriage in the first place. He couldn’t afford to be careless again.
He jumped when Miles patted him on the shoulder. “You’re in phase two.”
“Phase two?”
“Lust.”
Hunter shrugged off Miles’ hand, annoyed. “Go away.”
As Hunter drove to Diane Garrett’s house, Miles’ words echoed in his mind. He barely listened to Brenna as she gave him instructions for the evening. She continued to worry, although he’d tried to convince her not to. Everything would be fine. He’d met plenty of mothers in his lifetime and had impressed them all. He knew they were going to enjoy a very painless evening.
Brenna suddenly gasped.
Hunter turned to her alarmed. “What is it?”
Her voice held a note of panic. “Did I tell you I have five uncles, four aunts and four cousins?”
“No. Why?”
She stared at a house with cars spilling out of the drive way. “Because they’re all here.”
CHAPTER SIX
“We have to go inside, Brenna,” Hunter said as they circled the block for the fifth time.
“I know, but you need to know enough to prepare yourself.”
“I am prepared. Besides I doubt that I will remember anything you have just said.”
“Of course you will. You’re a smart guy.”
He sent her an amused glance. “Back handed compliments are not going to convince me to drive around again.” He parked in front of a mid-size brick house and shut off the car. “Just follow my lead.”
Brenna closed the door and stared at him as he headed up the drive. “Follow your lead? This is my family.”
“That’s why you’re panicking.”
“I’m not panicking. I just know we’re headed for disaster.” She stopped and turned. “Perhaps we could call from the car and say we’re stuck in traffic.”
He grabbed her arm. “No, they already saw us.”
Before he could explain how he knew that, the front door swung open. Diane greeted them with a big smile.
***
Brenna sat paralyzed next to Hunter in the dining room as various family members introduced themselves to him and commented on how long it had been since they’d seen her. Brenna felt the same stage fright that had ripped through her at age nine. She’d been forced to do a speech in front of her class about her favorite animal—her mouth hadn’t worked then either.
Hunter on the other hand seemed completely at ease. She still couldn’t understand how a man who never smiled could look so cordial. She was grateful for his talent because she knew he was being studied. Especially by her Aunt Vanessa, whose sharp gaze could make an eagle blush. She was a woman Brenna held in abject awe. A woman who would never let anyone forget what a beauty she had been in her youth and all the lovers she had in the past. She spoke of Uncle Henry as ‘my husband’ as though he had no other existence outside that post.
Then there was Aunt Gwen who tried to make her small eyes bigger by drawing in her eyebrows a shade too dark and with a high arch. She only succeeded in always looking surprised. Aunt Patience, Aunt Carol and Uncle Walter—always referred to in that order since they regularly appeared as a threesome—offered bright smiles. Two of the three were married, though no one was quite sure which pair. The ladies peppered Hunter with questions while Uncles Jerome, Evan and Bruce stayed quiet trying to give the appearance of distrust although it was obvious they were impressed. Brenna’s stomach twisted when one uncle smiled at her. She fought back a wave of nausea.
Her cousins Susanna and Judy, both only a few years older and conveniently married, came without their husbands. They didn’t want to be distracted as they assessed Brenna’s new man. Susanna, the less subtle of the two, openly studied Hunter’s every move. The only one with eyes completely wistful was sixteen year old, Lauren, who wore two braids, held together with a butterfly clip, and a retainer on her teeth.
“I’m so glad you’ll have someone to take to Trina’s wedding,” Aunt Patience said, offering a wide gummy grin.
“Shame Trina isn’t here,” Susanna said. “She would have loved to meet you. Perhaps at the wedding—”
Brenda quickly said, “Hunter can’t attend the wedding.”
Aunt Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll find a way. A smart man never leaves a woman alone long.”
“Yes, well—”
“So how did you meet?” Uncle Jerome asked. “You seemed to have found this fellow out of nowhere.”
“No, not nowhere,” Brenna said carefully. “As I told Mom, we have both been busy.”
“Too busy to mention his name? You were quick to introduce—”
“I thought you wanted to know how we met,” Brenna said quickly before her uncle mentioned Byron’s name.
Aunt Gwen raised her brows with interest. They nearly disappeared into her hairline. “Oh, yes please tell us how.”
Hunter rested an arm around her shoulders. “I saw Brenna in a store and liked what I saw. So I asked her out.”
Brenna stiffened. That was not the story they had practiced.
Uncle Bruce asked, “You just go after what you want?”
“I’d thought that was obvious,” Hunter said.
Lauren sighed. “Oh, isn’t that romantic?”
Brenna clenched her teeth. “Yes, romantic. Hunter, I need to get something from the car.”
He began to hand her the keys; her pointed looked stopped him. “Okay.” He stood and nodded his apology. “Excuse us.”
***
He opened the car door. “What do you need?”
“To strangle you.”
He spun around and stared at her shocked. “What?”
“How dare you change the story. You’re not going by the plan. I thought you liked plans.”
“Yes, but I also like logic.” He closed the door and leaned against the car. “After considering your story I came to the conclusion that it lacked sense.” He held up a hand. “Hear me out before you let loose any scathing remarks. Now be honest. Do I look like the type of man who would ask a woman’s opinion in a greeting card shop?”
Brenna hesitated then shook her head.
“Do I look like the kind of man you would
find
in a card shop?”
She shook her head again reluctantly seeing his point.
“Exactly. I needed to come up with a more plausible meeting.”
Brenna looked unconvinced. “So you say you saw me in a store and asked me out. Instant attraction.”
“Correct.”
She groaned. “And you think your explanation is any more plausible than mine.”
“Yes.”
“Do I look like the kind of woman you can pick up in a store?”
His eyes trailed the length of her. “Yes.” He held up a hand before she could reply. “Because
I
look like the kind of man who can do it.”
“Why you arrogant—”
“Now, now children,” an amused voice said. “I don’t think name calling is nice.”
They turned and saw Stephen strolling towards them with his hands in his pockets. She looked at Hunter. “Another family member. My brother, Stephen. Stephen, meet my lack of judgment.”
“I’m Hunter Randolph,” he said holding out his hand. “Brenna’s just in a bad mood.”
Stephen nodded. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No.”
He patted Brenna on the head. “That’s your problem right there.”
She slapped his hand away. “Did you know about this?”
“The ambush? Yes, I was going to tell you.”
“Of course you were,” she said doubtful. “So you knew they were
all
coming?”
His good humor died. “No, I didn’t expect…” He took a deep breath. “Are you okay with it?”
She watched his face for any betraying emotion. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.” Stephen shrugged as though trying to rid himself of an ugly coat. He forced a pleasant tone. “So what are you two doing out here? Has Mother driven him away already?”
“No, we’re trying to decide how we met.”
“You don’t remember? I thought you told me he came barging into—ow!” Stephen said responding to Brenna’s pinch on his arm.
“We want something a little more feasible,” Brenna explained.
“I said I saw her in a store and asked her out,” Hunter said.
“Works for me,” Stephen said. “Come on.”
Brenna rolled her eyes. “With a flimsy story like that we are not going to fool anyone.”
***
They fooled them all. With coy glances and shy grins Brenna and Hunter created the perfect illusion that put her relatives under a spell. With the cleverness of shadow puppeteers they created images that were not there. At times their acting was so convincing, Brenna forgot it was a charade. The illusion masking dangerously as reality. She watched as Hunter chatted with her mother, complimented her aunts’ dishes and settled an argument among them on who made the best bulla cake. He laughed with her uncles and charmed all of her cousins. Stephen, always the careful observer, wasn’t completely taken in by the show, but wisely kept an impassive expression. By the time they served sweet biscuits and ginger tea, Hunter had been accepted into the family. Her cousins entertained him with tales from Brenna’s childhood. “And then there was the cane incident,” Susanna said.
“The what?” Hunter asked.
Brenna sent Susanna a cold glare. “Forget it.”
“No, I want to hear this,” Hunter insisted.
Susanna held up her hands ready to set the stage. “Once in middle school, some kid stole Brenna’s cane and replaced it with a rubber one from his father’s magic shop. So when Brenna leaned on it, she fell flat on her face. It was awful, but she looked so funny you couldn’t help laughing. She always dressed impeccably and there she was on the ground—crumbled and dirty. Every time she tried to get up the cane would bend at weird angles and she’d fall down again.”
They were laughing so hard they didn’t notice Hunter wasn’t laughing with them. “And what did you do?”
She looked blank. “Do?”
“Yes, as she struggled to stand up with all her papers and books spread everywhere and the kids laughing. What did you do?”
“Well I—”
Stephen spoke up. “She didn’t do anything. She laughed with the rest of them like always.”
“Interesting,” Hunter said. It was a small word and said with little inflection, but potent enough to cause an awkward silence.
“I got him back though,” Brenna said to fill the air.
There was a hint of a smile. “You did? How?”
“I was his tutor for American History. He ended up having to repeat it.”
Hunter nodded. “I put a kid in a locker once. He teased me about something that offended me. He didn’t do it again. It’s not fun being laughed at.”
“No.”
“Shame how some people don’t seem to understand that,” he said in a pointed tone.
Judy and Susanna finished their tea.
“Would you like more bulla cake?” Aunt Gwen asked Hunter.
“Yes, please.”
The aunts stood to clear the table, shortening the awkward moment. Brenna helped in the kitchen.
“I like him,” Diane said. She hugged her daughter. “I’m so proud of you.”
Brenna placed some dishes in the dishwasher not knowing how to respond.
“Don’t do that. You’re the guest.” She fixed Brenna’s hair. “Take him out to the garden.”
“Do it, Brenna,” Aunt Vanessa said. “It’s the perfect evening for it.”
“And if you don’t invite him to the garden,” Aunt Gwen said. “One of your cousins will.”
***
Brenna pulled at her skirt as she and Hunter sat alone in the gazebo.
It was still light. The sky a blue that reminded one of an ocean at rest. Moths landed on the nearby cotoneaster bushes whose tiny pink buds were opening into white flowers, while the buddleia bushes’ dark purple flowers released a fruity fragrance. In the distance, she heard the cry of a blue jay. But even among the gentle night air and the blanket of sky that darkened into a navy blush, Brenna felt trapped. She felt as though the shadows had imprisoned her, the puppeteer becoming the puppet, performing for the joy and pleasure of others. She knew she wasn’t far from wrong. Wasn’t that what this whole evening was about?
Hunter sat quietly next to her, his sleeve brushing her bare arm in a soft caress, non-threatening in its innocence. She glanced at him wondering how much longer he could keep up the act. Dodging personal questions and poignant nudges of a more permanent future together. But as usual his expression gave nothing away. Instead she watched how the deepening sunlight touched his face, softening the planes and angles that should have been harsh and hardening a mouth too gentle for such a face.
She wondered if his face carried the secret to his true nature. A man of deep passions—a fact he denied—with a gentle heart. She brushed the thought aside annoyed with herself. In a few days it wouldn’t matter. They would take their bow, close the curtain to thunderous applause then leave the stage of this illusion forever.
The wind carried the distant sound of laughter and the scent of lime. Though they were only a few feet from the house she felt miles away. Like most performers on stage they had their own world of secrets and deception.
“Should we wait until they come for us?” she asked.
“Probably not.” Hunter’s voice sounded uncommonly deep in the still air. Goosebumps formed on her arms in a delicious tingling sensation. “But I don’t want to move in case that girl pops up again.”
“Lauren is harmless. She thinks you’re a romantic hero.” Brenna grinned. “A prince charming.”
“I’ll have no trouble disillusioning her.”
“I think you will.”
He turned to her startled. “What?”