Imaginary Grace (17 page)

“Okay,” she said, then leaned in to kiss me. I got a whiff of that perfumey smell but didn’t turn away.
No need to be a total dick.

She shut the car door and bent down to say something through the open window, but before she could, I said, “Okay, I’ll see you around,” and started to pull away.
Okay, so I am a total dick.

When I got to my parents’, my dad was out, but Mom came right to the door; it was as if she had been waiting for me, even though I hadn’t planned on coming. “Tanner, honey,” she said excitedly. “You should have called -- I could have made something special for dinner. Are you even staying for dinner?”

“Sure,” I said, wrapping her in a tight hug.

My dad came home soon after, and we spent most of the day lounging around in front of the T.V. before Mom put dinner on the table. All in all, it was one of our more pleasant visits, probably because I knew I was gonna get them to give me the money for the tour.

As I was leaving, I made sure to tell my Mom that Grace was definitely coming to the wedding.

“Oh, that’s great, honey; I can’t wait to meet her,” she said.

I can’t wait for you to meet her either, I thought, and then it hit me. What if my parents didn’t even like her?

Shrugging off the thought, I explained that Grace and I would be coming Friday night and staying until Sunday.

“…and make sure you have the guest room ready,” I added, then waited for her inevitable reaction.

“The guest room,” she said, “Oh, okay, I guess I just assumed she’d be staying in your room.”

“No, Ma,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. “I told you, she’s not like that. This girl’s different.” And then I turned away so she couldn’t see my face. “Oh, by the way, I’m working for a few hours that Saturday morning, so if you don’t mind, can you keep her company until I get back?”

“Of course, honey,” she said. “I’d love to.”

“Okay, great. Thanks, Mom.” I kissed her on the cheek and said goodbye.

On the drive home, my thoughts returned to the previous night. Amber was certainly talented, but I knew I’d have to ditch her before she became too clingy. Maybe I’d try having another girl sleep over, and see how that went. Finally, I settled on the conversation I’d just had with my mom. Things were looking good.
The guest room
.
Jeez, I really surprised her with that request.

When I got home a little while later, I found Scott planted in front of the TV with some cartons of Chinese food.

He looked up when I came in. “Hey, where’ve you been, man?”

“I wanted to get rid of Amber this morning so I decided to go to my parents’. I dropped her off on the way.”

“Oh, it sounded like she was enjoying herself last night,” he said, chuckling.

I smiled to myself, but ignored his comment as I sat down on the couch. Then, unable to resist, I looked over at him and smiled slyly. “Oh and by the way,” I said, “late last night I ran into Kristen as I was coming out of the bathroom, and do you know what she told me?”

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, she told me that she wanted to have a threesome with you, her…” I watched his eyes nearly pop out of his head as he looked on with eager anticipation. “…and me!”

“Oh man,” he said, shaking his head, “I just went limp.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Yeah, I’ll take a pass on that one too.” I sank down onto the couch, picked up the remote and began flipping through the channels.

“Speaking of surprises,” he said, “what was up with Amber spending the night?”

“Yeah, that was a big mistake,” I told him. “I’m not letting it happen again.”

“What would your girl Grace think about your little sleepover?” he said with a mouthful of lo mein.

“Grace isn’t going to find out,” I said dryly.

“Don’t get all testy just because I mentioned your girlfriend.” I shot him a look to let him know I didn’t want to talk about Grace, but he continued. “Wait, I stand corrected, I mean your
imaginary
girlfriend. Do you think she refers to you as her boyfriend? Like, when she’s back home, with her friends, she says like, ‘My boyfriend Tanner did this; my boyfriend Tanner did that; my boyfriend Tanner’s so handsome; my boyfriend Tanner’s so sweet’… blah, blah, blah?”

He was getting to me and he knew it as he went on in a high-pitched voice. “‘I’m gonna give it up to my boyfriend Tanner when I get back from winter break. It’ll be so romantic. My boyfriend Tanner is such a gentleman; he’ll wait forever for me.’”

He was thoroughly enjoying this little rant, but I had yet to react. “‘My boyfriend Tanner has a hot roommate, Scott, and next time I see them I’m gonna have Tanner fuck me from behind while I ram Scott’s huge dick down my throat and….’”

“ENOUGH,” I finally yelled, raking my fingers through my hair.

He looked over at me, smiling with satisfaction. “I knew I’d getcha with that last one.” Then he went back to eating his Chinese food while I leaned my head back on the couch and shut my eyes.

Chapter 23

Grace

W
hen I got home from school for winter break, Ryder was all over me like white on rice. Apparently my little “indiscretion” over Thanksgiving weekend had made me somewhat of a legend among her friends. Every time one of them came over, I was asked to retell the story again of how my “boyfriend” called me in the middle of the night to get him and his friend out of a jam, and how it turned into a night of romance.

I acted all annoyed every time she made me retell it, but who was I kidding? - I loved telling it. I relished the idea of playing the part of the cool older sister – something I’d never had the chance to do before.

Ryder even discussed Scott with her friends, saying, “He was like totally flirting with me and when they come to visit again, me and Grace are going to double date.”

I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but that was never going to happen; he was way too old for her. Eventually the hype of my return died down and was replaced with the hype of the approaching holidays, but my mind was preoccupied with the looming wedding extravaganza.

I mentioned the wedding to my mom and she, of course, started questioning the nature of my and Tanner’s relationship. Rather than admit I still didn’t know myself, I maintained that he was still just a friend.

Mom shot me a skeptical look. “Grace, I’m having trouble believing that you and he are ‘just friends.’ Going to a family wedding seems pretty serious. Are you going to tell me the whole story?”

Sure, Mom, I’ll tell you how I jumped his bones on the couch and who knows what would have happened if his roommate hadn’t come home.
Instead, I settled for the partial truth. “Okay, the truth is that we really
are
just friends, but…I’ll admit I wish it were more than that. So there, now you have it. Are you satisfied?”

She didn’t answer, but her expression told me she clearly was not satisfied. She was silent as she turned on the kitchen faucet and began tackling the pile of dinner dishes. I picked up a dishrag to dry them, but every few minutes she’d shoot me a look as if to say she’d get the story eventually.

“I don’t understand what you’re making such a big deal about, just because I’m going to a wedding with him. You should be happy we’re staying with his parents, no worries about drinking and driving…”

Mom paused mid-dish and turned to me. Immediately I realized my error.
Shit.

“Excuse me?”

“What? It’s not a big deal. He just thought it would be easier than driving all the way back to school.”

She was silent for another moment, then said, “Grace, I don’t like this one bit. You don’t even know these people; for all you know they could be axe murderers.”

“Axe murderers!” I scoffed. “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I most certainly can be serious, Grace,” she said, “In fact, I am serious.”

“Well, are you telling me I can’t go? Because I
am
going.”

She thought for a minute and must have come to the realization that at eighteen years old, she couldn’t very well forbid me to go.

“What are the sleeping arrangements?” she asked, taking a different and not-so-subtle tack.

“I’m staying in the guest room,” I lied, since I didn’t actually know what the sleeping arrangements were.

“The guest room? Really?” Her expression was almost pitying now.
“Grace,” she began, “Tanner is an extremely good-looking guy…”

Oh. My. God. Please, she was
not
going to say what I thought she was going to say, not my own mother. I felt tears begin to prick the backs of my eyes as she continued, “I’m just saying, guys like him are not used to girls saying no to them. Just be careful; I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding, relieved she didn’t say what I’d thought she was going to say, which was something along the lines of, “Get your head out of the clouds, Grace. He’s way too hot for you.” Well, maybe not those exact words, but something similarly devastating.

She sighed, a sign that the conversation was mercifully coming to an end. “Well, I guess you’re old enough to make your own decisions, and I’ll have to trust that you’ll be careful, but text me while you’re there so I know you’re all right. I won’t be able to relax until you’re back at the dorm.”

“Okay,” I said, “I promise to text.”

Then I changed the subject and asked if maybe after Christmas we could go shopping for a dress and a pair of “fuck-me pumps” (I actually just said shoes). But when I announced that I also wanted to get a haircut, I really got her attention. She had been on my case for years about cutting my hair.

“Mom,” I told her, “I just want a trim. Don’t think I’m going to chop it all off.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, “I can make an appointment for you at my salon.”

“Whoa, hold it right there,” I stopped her. “I want to go to the new trendy place that opened up in town last summer. That’s where everyone goes now; I’ll make an appointment for the end of the week.”

“That’s fine,” she conceded, “Wherever you want to go is fine.”

Being home was nice, but I was always wondering what Tanner was doing. Yeah, I got text messages from him on a regular basis--even the occasional, rather awkward phone call-- but it didn’t replace seeing him in the flesh. I kept replaying in my mind the last time we were at his house; the way the bare skin of his chest felt under my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head to shoo the thought away. If I didn’t I wasn’t going to get anything done, and I had plenty to do before the wedding.

The first thing on the list was the haircut. I wanted to get it cut right away so I’d have plenty of time to work with it before the wedding. The second was making sure I kept up with my workout regimen. They were running a special for college kids at my dad’s gym, and I asked him if he could sign me up as one of my Christmas gifts.

I was nervous when the day of my salon appointment rolled around. I knew it was silly because a month was plenty of time to get used to it, but I couldn’t help it. While sitting in the stylist’s chair at the salon, she asked me what I wanted done and I tried to explain that basically I wanted to keep the length but lose the frizz.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem,” the stylist said, “I know exactly what I’ll do,” and before too long I was washed, trimmed, blow-dried and out the door. She cut a little over four inches off and the difference was huge. It didn’t really look any shorter because it was straight and sleek and kind of blown away from my face. It looked great, but the question was, would I be able to do it myself? I guessed I would just have to wait and see.

I came home from the salon to mixed reviews. Ryder thought it looked great; Mom, on the other hand, wasn’t too thrilled. She was hoping I’d cut it much shorter.

The holidays came and went with the usual fanfare. We had Christmas Eve dinner at our house, then went to my cousin’s on Christmas day. The following week I started up at the gym. It was much bigger than the one at school, and I recognized a lot of people from town. I even ran into Lisa, a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen since the end of the summer. She invited me to a New Year’s Eve party, and I eagerly accepted. We spent a few minutes catching up, then she said she’d call me during the week with the party details.

During the week between Christmas and New Year’s, my mom, Ryder and I went dress shopping. We made a whole day of it, taking the mall one store at a time and stopping only for lunch. I had only a vague idea of what I wanted but I figured I’d know it when I saw it, and that’s just what happened.

It was in one of the smaller stores that I spotted
the
dress. It was perfect – basic, little, and black, just like Beth had suggested. I tried it on and it fit like a glove. Ryder loved it, but my mom – not so much.

“Grace,” she said, “there’s not much to it, and it’s sleeveless. Don’t you think you’ll be cold wearing this?”

“No, Mom, I’m sure I won’t be cold. It’s perfect. Can I get it? Please?” I asked with my fingers crossed.

She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Okay, if it’s what you really want.”

“Yes! Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her a quick hug.

As we walked out of the store with my newly acquired purchase, I heard her say, “Your black flats will go perfectly with that, don’t you think, Grace?”

Flats?

I tried to keep my voice casual. “Don’t you think it would look better with a bit of a heel?”

Mom raised an eyebrow at me. “Grace, that dress is way too short to wear with heels.”

I was about to argue, but thought better of it. She had agreed to buy me the dress and I didn’t want to push it. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I said, but I was thinking about the money I had saved. I would use it for the shoes I really wanted.

When we got home, Ryder waited for my mom to leave the room, then said, “Grace, you’re not really going to wear flats with that, are you?”

My surprise turned to shock when she said, “You need a pair of black ‘fuck-me’ pumps!” When she saw my look of horror, she said, “Gimme a break, Grace, it’s just an expression.”

“Yeah, I know it’s just an expression,” I said, “and you’re too young to be using it.” I shrugged. “You also happen to be right, but I didn’t want to push it with Mom. I’ll just go shopping another day.”

“Can I come?” she asked eagerly.

“Sure you can. I can use your help picking them out.” By this time Mom had come back into the room so we let it drop.

New Year’s Eve was there and gone before I knew it. It was great catching up with Lisa and some of my other friends from high school, but the best part of it was that I ran into Darren Chesney – the guy involved in the infamous senior prom fiasco.

Now, I know that when you’re in college, high school seems like a lifetime ago, but in actuality only eight months had passed. As soon as I saw him, I was instantly transported back to high school, reliving the whole awful incident. I wished I could say that he was fat or ugly or a loser, but that wasn’t the case. He looked great and he was at a college in the Midwest on a full scholarship, which made it even sweeter when he asked me if I wanted to go out over the break and I turned him down.

He was persistent, too, which made it even better. As much as I hated to admit it, under different circumstances I might have accepted, but I was head over heels for Tanner. No one even came close. The best part was that when he asked me why I wouldn’t go out with him, I got to say, “Because I’m seeing someone.”

“So who’s the lucky guy?” he muttered.

“Oh, just someone I met at college.”

“Well,” he said, “if things don’t work out, give me a call; I’d love to take you out some time.”

As I watched him walk back over to his group of friends, I decided that next to my official total make-out session with Tanner, this was the most satisfying evening of my life.

The following week, Ryder and I went shoe shopping and I found the perfect pair at the mall. The heel was high, but not outrageously so, and I thought that with some practice I’d be able to comfortably walk in them.

“Gracie,” Ryder said excitedly, “Tanner’ll eat his heart out when he sees you in
that
dress, with
those
heels!”

“You really think so?”

“Definitely.”

When I got home that night I called Beth and told her all about the dress and shoes I’d gotten for the wedding, and how I’d had to go behind my mother’s back for the pumps. I saved the best part -- my hair—for last. She insisted I take pictures and send them to her ASAP. I took pictures of the dress and shoes and sent them, but held off on the haircut because I was having some trouble managing it. When I told her that, she said to keep at it, but in the meantime to make an appointment to have it blown out that Friday morning before the wedding. She gave me the phone number of a salon she’d used near school. “Good idea, Beth!” I said, “I’ll make the appointment tomorrow morning.”

I kept myself busy the next few weeks by going to the gym, getting together with friends, and spending time with my family.
Real exciting.
Before I knew it, winter break was coming to an end. On the Wednesday before the wedding, my parents drove me back down to school, but didn’t stay very long, as my dad had to work the next day. They just helped me bring my stuff up, then it was tight hugs, kisses, and see-you-soons before they hopped back in the car and headed home.

After I had all my stuff put away, I lay back on my bed. I was exhausted but my thoughts quickly turned back to the wedding.
Please, God, let me look good for this…

Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.