“Whitewine, please.”
“Comingright up. Help yourself to some ‘nibbles’ as my mother calls them.”He indicates the small dishes and plates that hold a variety ofnuts, olives, fancy crackers, and cheese. The spread reminds me ofEvie’s mom, who offers her guests prosecco the minute they walk inthe door, followed by an array of gourmet snacks prepared by herpersonal chef.
Leland pours mywine, then a pint of beer for himself. He slides my glass acrossthe bar and says, “Cheers.”
“Sláinte,” I say, wanting to see himsmile again. He does and, while it still holds a touch of sadness,it lights his eyes in that way I’ve come to love.
Leland glancesover my shoulder. I follow his gaze, expecting to see his momreturning, but I can still hear her moving around in the kitchen.When I straighten on the stool, his eyes are locked onme.
“I feellike a bad son,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “My mom is lonelyand I know there’s more I could be doing forher—shouldbedoing for her—but there’s also only so much I can do, youknow?”
“You’renot a bad son, Leland. You and Felicity are starting up a newbusiness and that takes a lot of time and work. I’m sure justhaving you back in town is a relief to her.”
“Shewanted us to live with her when we got back.” He shifts and leansagainst the bar, one of his hands landing beside mine. He nudges myfingers and then begins playing with them absently. “We consideredit, but the thought of being in our old rooms, knowing Mom wouldwant to take care of us as if we were kids again, was too much. Shewas glad we decided to live together, but disappointed it wasn’there with her. It’s only temporary for both of us as we figurethings out. I knowyouget that.”
“I do.I knew it would be the same if I moved back home. My parents have aseparate basement apartment, which is where Wesley’s staying now,but I wanted space. It would have been too easy to fall intoteenager mode and let them do things for me. My mom would haveinsisted I come for dinner every night, and she likely would havesnuck downstairs to clean the apartment and scoop up my laundry.Those aren’tbadthings, but they’re also notgoodfor someone like me who’s tryingto be independent and sort out the mess I’ve made of mylife.”
“It’snot a mess, Stels.”
“Oh,it’s a mess. It’s less messy than itwas, but it’s still a mess.” I pause,thinking about my life for a moment, how things have changed sincemoving back to Bellevue, and how I hope they continue to change inthe coming months. “It’s becoming a beautiful mess, though.Something of my own choosing, with me working toward standing on myown two feet. I’ve learned it’s not a bad thing to depend on peopleand let them help, but I’m also looking forward to the day when theground beneath my feet feels solid instead of rocky.”
Behind us, I canhear the soft clicking of Lana’s slippers as she comes down thehall. Leland’s fingers close around mine and squeeze. “You’ll getthere. I believe in you.” He lifts my hand and brushes his lipsacross my knuckles.
My brain wants tobelieve the gesture is for his mom’s benefit, but she hasn’tentered the room yet. Which means this moment—Leland’s words ofencouragement and that soft kiss—were just for me.
*****
Lelandis the perfect fake boyfriend. His easy affection, attentiveness,and dazzling smiles regularly aimed my way ensure his mom has nodoubt we’re a couple. In fact, he’s so convincing, it’s difficultformeto rememberwe’re just friends and this is all for his mom’sbenefit.
Although…I have towonder how Leland holding my hand under the table is for Lana’sbenefit. His thumb is brushing my knuckles the way it did thatnight we were alone in Evie’s condo. The night we kissed. It’s verydistracting. And confusing. And yet I hope he doesn’t stop anytimesoon.
AsLeland’s thumb continues to trace over the ridges of my knuckles, Iremind myself this is temporary. I have no doubt Leland willcontinue to be a great friend after our charade is over, but Ican’t get used to these seemingly intimate moments. Like I toldLeland earlier, my life is still a mess; I’ve already dragged himpartway into it, even if our fake dating situationisbenefiting both of us.I don’t want to pull him in further by expecting or even hoping formore.
I tune back intothe conversation as Lana says, “Have you found your suit for thebanquet yet?”
Leland’s thumbgoes still on my hand. “Uhh, yeah, I found it on the weekend andtook it to the dry cleaner to get all the wrinkles out.”
I press my lipstogether to stop myself from asking what banquet they’re talkingabout. As Leland’s ‘girlfriend’, that seems like something I shouldknow.
Lanaturns her attention to me. “I assume you’re going with him, dear? Ioffered to be his date for the evening—I wanted to see him make hisspeech, you know—but heoh-so-gentlyturned me down.” Shelaughs, and I force out a light laugh of my own because it seemslike the appropriate response. “You’ll have to take pictures forme, Stella. Maybe even sneak a video if you can.”
Leland’s handtightens on mine. “Actually, Mom, Stella isn’t coming with me. Ididn’t want to subject her to a long, boring banquet, and my speechwill take all of five minutes.”
Lana frowns as hergaze darts between us. “That’s too bad. It’s at your old highschool and everything. Are you sure—”
“I’m sosorry, but I have to take this,” Leland interrupts, holding up hisbuzzing phone. I’ve heard it go off several times in the last fewminutes, but he’s ignored it until now. As he stands, he leans inclose to me and whispers, “Sorry, I’ll just be a minute. I promiseI’ll explain about the banquet later.” He brushes a kiss on myforehead and strides away, answering the phone in a tensevoice.
A moment ofsilence follows Leland’s exit. Finally, Lana rises from her seat,winking at me as she tops up my glass of wine, then her own. Aftertaking a sip, she says, “I apologize if I’ve been monopolizing theconversation tonight. I’ve been alone so much lately, I think Itook ‘captive audience’ a bit too literally.” She chuckles as shesays it, but I don’t miss the hint of sorrow in hereyes.
“Idon’t mind. I’ve enjoyed every moment of tonight.”
Her smile grows,reaching her eyes. I didn’t notice much resemblance between her andLeland before, but I see a hint of it now in the way her eyescrinkle around the corners. “In that case, can I ask you aquestion?”
“Ofcourse.”
“Whatdoes your mom do in her free time?”
My eyebrows wingup. I was expecting a question about my relationship with Leland.“Well…she and my dad spend a lot of time together. And she hasfriends she meets up with; their new favorite activity is thosewine and paint nights. She also volunteers at the communityservices center. One of my best friends, Hollie, works there, andMom goes in from time to time, usually to help assemble foodboxes.”
