She bit her tongue, waiting for him to say something to ease the sudden awkwardness that surrounded them.
"Are you sure you don't want me to replace this old trellis, Mom?" He put a hand on the aged trellis covered in climbing roses.
It was probably white originally but was now gray and fuzzy. Itlooked like attempts had been made to shore up the broken diamond pattern with additional pieces of wood and twine, but the effects were unattractive and not fully successful.
"Don't even think about it." Marisol held up a hand. "You'll damage my roses if you try to replace it. But I do want you to take a look at the bottom step on the deck. It's loose."
Paige quickly zoned out again as they discussed whether more than one board needed to be replaced. Gabe had effectively diverted his mom’s attention, but he hadn't set her straight concerning the seriousness of their relationship. What exactly had he told his mom to make her think they were "pretty serious."
They eventually made their way inside again, and Paige found herself sitting between Gabe and his mom, looking at family photo albums. Gabe's presence beside her on the worn yet comfortable sofa both calmed her and filled her with an intense awareness. With his solid thigh pressed against hers and his muscular arm around her shoulders, curtailing her attraction was impossible.
As they made their way through the photo albums, Marisol shared more stories about Gabe and Grace, some embarrassing and some endearing, but always, her voice was filled with affection. Paige felt privileged to have this glimpse into Gabe's life.
She found herself laughing at one picture of the cute little boy with impossibly long eyelashes. The angle of the photo made his ears look abnormally large. "You weren't kidding when you said your ears stuck out."
"I wasn't kidding," Gabe said. "Thank goodness I grew into them."
Paige turned the page to find the picture he showed them at PT of his ears tucked under the brim of his hat.
"He was like his dad in that regard." Marisol grabbed another scrapbook and showed Paige pictures of Gabe's dad, Manuel, when he was young. His ears stuck out too. "Manuel grew into his ears during his teen years and was a handsome man."
Looking at Gabe's father, it was easy to see where he got his good looks. Paige was surprised to learn that even though Manuel's family immigrated from Mexico when he was a young boy, his mother wasas blond and fair skinned as Paige's own mom. Marisol's parents immigrated from Argentina before she was born.
She'd seen pictures of Gabe's father in the other scrapbook. Marisol's lack of animosity when she spoke of her ex-husband surprised Paige. In fact, her voice was tinged with fondness and respect. The resentment radiating off Gabe and Grace, however, was palpable. Their father walking out on them had obviously hurt them, but she had to wonder what had happened for them to still be so bitter over a decade later.
Paige admired Marisol's ability to forgive. She also struggled to reconcile the angel of a woman beside her with the picture Luke painted at PT of Gabe's mom. Paige had expected her to be critical and demanding, but she wasn't. Fondness filled her voice whenever she talked about Gabe and Grace. Marisol Rivera was one of the sweetest women Paige had ever met.
And that hug she gave me…
Marisol had embraced her with the ferocity of a bear and the kindness of a saint. Paige had never felt so special and like a bigger fraud. She hated lying to this sweet woman.
"Paige, would you like to help me cut and serve your cake?" Grace stood from the loveseat.
"Sure." Paige shoved the scrapbook onto Gabe's lap and pushed to her feet. Despite Grace's animosity toward her, she was eager to put some distance between her and the woman she was deceiving as well as the man who drove her more than a little crazy.
She tried to think of a way to win Grace over as she followed her to the kitchen.
They'd barely rounded the corner when Gabe's sister whirled on her. "How much is he paying you?" Her voice was low, but it was every bit as sharp as the daggers she'd been shooting at Paige all evening.
Paige fell back a step. "Excuse me?"
Grace stepped closer, her scrutiny growing more intense. "How much is my brother paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend?"
Paige's stomach clenched, threatening to make her dinner reappear. They hadn't fooled Gabe's sister.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She forced as much bravado into her words as she could while keeping her voice down. The last thing she wanted was for Gabe's mom to hear Grace calling her out.
Grace rolled her eyes as she stepped away. "I know you’re not really Gabe’s girlfriend. He’s hardly dated for years. We considered having one of my friends play the part, but Mom knows all of my friends and would have seen right through it." She took small plates from the cupboard and a large butcher knife from a drawer.
She knows Gabe brought home a fake girlfriend.
Paige's shoulders relaxed, and she let out a sigh. Something still felt off about the whole thing though. Why would Gabe's sister try to help him find a fake girlfriend? Marisol was a sweet, loving mother. Why were they lying to her?
"So how much is he paying you?” Grace stood with the knife poised over the cake but pointed in Paige's direction.
Alarm bells sounded in Paige's head. Grace may be in on Gabe's ruse, but that didn't mean she trusted Paige. "He isn't paying me anything."
Grace's eyes narrowed again. "What's your angle then?" She kept her voice low but no longer whispered, apparently confident the low rumble of conversation coming from the living room would mask their own.
