“So he was playing matchmaker,” Burke encouraged, “to mainlyyou.”
“Right.” She nodded, setting her thoughts on the events that led to her desperation. The moment that compelled such rash action that it had dug and then buried her in a hole she didn’t know how to climb out of.
“To help you understand how I became so desperate, I’ve got to tell you that—”
“Wait,” he interjected. “Can you just tell me this before you go on—is there or is there not an actual fiancé?”
Justine felt an odd flutter in her chest at his question. She looked over as he shot her a glance, and detected something wonderfully close to jealousy. She fought back a grin. “There’s no fiancé.”
Burke let out an exaggerated sigh. “Good.”
Now the grin won out. “Okay, so he’s getting old, you know? My granddad. And though he’s still pretty sharp in a lot of ways, he’s also losing degrees of…social awareness maybe. Or he’s just stopped caring about social grace altogether. Who knows?
“But already he was pestering me about dating and findingthe oneand telling me that I needed to make it a priority. And whenthatdidn’t work, he switched tactics and started bringing men to our Sunday dinners or telling them where they could ‘bump into me’ if they wanted to ask me out.”
Burke ran a hand along the back of his neck and groaned. “Men in town?”
“He’d already exhausted the options here and moved onto random guys passing through town. It was horrible.”
“I’m assuming you told him to stop at some point,” Burke guessed. He slowed as a family of deer wandered close to the roadside, just within reach of the headlights.
“Definitely.” Justine kept her eyes set on the small animals, relief washing through her as they passed. “I told him nicely, then not so nicely. And he sort of laid off for a while. But then I show up to Sunday dinner—we switch off each week between his place and mine—and he’s got an extra plate set up. Told me it was a man he’d bumped into at the gas station, the two got talking, and he was a very nice man close to my age who lived just three cities east of us—”
Burke groaned. “Oh, man…”
“I know. So I just lost it inside. I knew that if I wasn’t careful, I’d say something horrible that I’d probably regret, so I came up with a lie and told him I was engaged.”
A deep, raspy chuckle sounded low in Burke’s throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”
“No,” Justine said with a giggle of her own. “It’s comedic, I’m sure. If you’re not me.” She laughed some more. “And even a little funny if you are, I guess.” She gave into a moment as the two laughed some more, warmed by the camaraderie. It felt nice to finally confide in someone besides Becky at the checkout.
“What didhesay?”
“He went silent for, like, three whole minutes while sorting through it in his mind. It’s like his expression shifted in stages. Obvious ones. The first was disappointment. He liked this guy and he didn’t like hearing that there was no chance. But then he got kind of pleased, like,what am I unhappy about? This is what I wanted?It was all very satisfying until the final expression settled in.”
“Oh no,” Burke said, shooting her a grin.
Goosebumps rippled up Justine’s arms at the sight of that gleaming, Prince Charming smile. “It was disbelief. This accusing furrow in his brow, you know? And then the questions kicked in. How long have you known him? Where’d you meet? And he actually asked you to marry him and you’ve never met in person?”
“Whoa,” Burke said. “You said you’d never met him in person?”
“That was his own assumption,” Justine said. “The more questions he asked about the scenario, the more I realized it was so far out of my scope that I’d have to tweak things as I went along.”
“So what’s the final story you went with?”
“I said I’d met him on the internet, that he was a successful businessman, and we planned to keep our engagement a secret until he was ready to move out here. I swore him to secrecy, but I should have known that he’d slip and start telling people. He’s just not alltherelike he used to be.”
Burke nodded. “That’s too bad.”
Justine sank deeper into the seat, letting her muscles go limp. “It gets worse. Today at the grocery store, just before I found the cat, I discovered that the town had started talking about it. The grocer was asking if my fiancé was coming to the festival. And before I could answer, my third grade teacher joined the conversation, anxious to know as well.”
More chuckling came from Burke’s side. She could get used to that sound. It said that, despite the obvious differences between them, they appreciated similar things—like ridiculous, self-inflicted dilemmas.
“That’s not even the worst part,” she said through a grin. “Just as I’m standing there trying to think of a way out, this horrible girl named Brittany butts in and says,‘Oh, yes, Justine. Do tell us all about your successful fiancé that no one has ever seen in person.’I say horrible because she was extremely mean in school and she still hasn’t changed.”
“Ooh…” Burke shook his head. “We called them mean girls.”
“That’s exactly what she is. So Brittany’s basically calling me a liar in front of the other two, and since the whole fiancé thing actuallyisa lie, I just stood there like an idiot.”
