[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
unsound and utterly contemptible, but I love my father and I want him
to die with peace of mind. Is that a crime?
He was so convincing, I found myself creating justifications of
my own. Surely it could do no harm to let his dad die happy. In some
alternative reality we might have been two straight people who fell in
love and decided to get married, then realized we weren t meant for one
another. It happened.
I took in the sensual line of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids,
the careless grace of his body. A straight woman would have no trouble
" 56 "
CHANCE
pretending to be besotted with Eric. I pounced on this concept. What
about your fag hags? Can t you ask one of them?
Eric winced. I d rather eat a dog turd.
He painted a scary picture for me. They turn up at his mom s
town apartment, the fake fiancée flashing a fake diamond. Next minute
she and Mom have it all worked out. Why wait, when they could hold
the wedding ceremony at Dad s bedside? Who needs a honeymoon in
Hawaii when there s the beach house in La Jolla? You never told me
your folks had a beach house in La Jolla, the fag hag squeals.
Do you think I d get that ring off her finger without a fight? Eric
sighed. Mom would never speak to me again if I dumped the perfect
daughter-in-law.
I could see his point. I ll think about it.
As if sensing my waning resolve, he said, It s not just for me,
Chance. It s for you too.
I don t understand.
If you want a different life you have to say yes to the Fates.
The Fates aren t asking. You are.
He placed his cheek against mine and whispered, I promise you
can wear the pants.
I elbowed him away, resenting that a man had the power to make
my nipples hard. It was very confusing. I can t take time off my job.
Try, he begged. You know you want to.
Is there a computer at your mom s?
I knew it! He kissed my hands.
I took them back. My fingers got enough slobbering from dogs. I
haven t said yes.
You will.
Last-word junkie, I grumbled.
" 57 "
" 58 "
CHANCE
CHAPTER SIX
a Jolla is absurdly clean. Struck by the pristine pavements,
Ltrimmed hedges, and vast pastel bungalows, I said. It looks
like a theme park for rich people.
Eric glanced at me over his sunglasses. You think this is
pretentious? Wait till you see my parents place.
We passed a line of faux Spanish castillos screened by wrought-
iron fences and lush foliage. One place had white peacocks prowling
the emerald lawns. It made a change from Dobermans.
Wow. I was enthralled. Was that Marlon Brando s house?
You sound like a tourist.
I am a tourist! I had already planned my week. The San Diego
Zoo. Sea World. Old Town. Balboa Park.
We entered a curved driveway lined with heavy-headed palms.
Sprinklers made rainbows above sweeping flower borders. The house
was a mansion in flamingo pink stucco. Marble lions sprawled on either
side of the entrance, lambs sitting between their paws.
Confounded by this display of metaphor and the opulent
surroundings, I said, You never told me your parents were bloated
capitalists.
I didn t think it was important, comrade. Eric parked the BMW
he d rented for our trip his prized vintage Packard being too divine
to be subjected to the lengthy journey from San Francisco. He got out
and opened the passenger door for me, taking my elbow as I clambered
out.
Crossing the terra-cotta expanse in front of the house, I felt
ridiculous in the outfit he had chosen for me butter yellow Capri pants,
" 59 "
Grace Lennox
turquoise crop top, and sling-back sandals. I couldn t stop twisting the
hefty engagement ring he had given me to seal our lie.
A woman descended the half-moon front steps to greet us. Dark
blue eyes that might have been Eric s stared from a polished Grace
Kelly face framed with ash blonde waves. She smiled coolly and ran a
smoothing hand over her plain beige dress.
I m so very glad you could come, she said.
Eric kissed her on each cheek and introduced me like a high school
boy with his prom date. Mother, I d like you to meet my fiancée,
Chantelle Delaney.
Mrs. Standish took my hand and planted a dry little kiss on my
cheek. She wore a subtle floral scent. Welcome to our home, Chantelle,
she said in a brittle tone and released me immediately.
She took Eric by the arm and we walked into an entrance hall
that belonged in a movie. Remembering Suzie s advice about things
you can t go wrong saying, I gazed around and said, What a beautiful
home you have, Mrs. Standish.
Thank you. Her tone thawed slightly. I m afraid I can t take all
the credit. My husband s passion for the beaux arts has always defined
our living spaces.
What to say to a woman who channeled Architectural Digest? I
can see how much time and thought went into this, I declared with
suitable awe. The artworks alone. Breathtaking.
A little more of the permafreeze melted. My dear, you must be
desperate to freshen up. With the faintest hint of coyness, she reached
for my left hand. But first, let me see it.
My heart almost stopped beating. Here was a woman who knew
what real diamonds looked like. We were doomed. I smiled with rabbity
eagerness and exclaimed, Isn t it totally perfect?
A wonderful choice, she agreed. I love the Asscher cut& that
tranquil pool effect.
Eric took this endorsement in stride. I couldn t resist. It was
between an Asscher and a radiant.
A radiant& In a hush-hush tone, Mrs. Standish confided,
Rather Hollywood, don t you think? What do they call it? Oh, yes&
bling dear me.
Mother, you are such a snob. But you re right. A classic cut suits
Chantelle best.
" 60 "
CHANCE
She nodded intently. You were wise to go under three carats.
As if I weren t standing right there being discussed, she continued,
Anything larger would look vulgar on a hand like hers. And the
platinum is ideal for her skin tone.
I was impressed. Eric must have paid quite a lot of money for a
fake that would fool a connoisseur like his mother. I called to mind what
a fag hag might say in a situation like this, and gushed, That s exactly
what I thought too. I just couldn t believe it when he proposed.
I think we were all surprised, Mrs. Standish said dryly.
She summoned a solidly built maid, who picked up my bags,
ordered Eric to bring his, and led us to an upstairs room with views of
the sea. There was one bed.
I thought you said we d be in separate rooms, I hissed, when
we were finally alone with our luggage. Assailed by mental images of
Mrs. Standish and the maid inspecting our sheets the next morning, I
bemoaned, This is a huge mistake.
Eric shrugged off my fears. Chill, sweetie. There are four more
bedrooms on this level. I ll take one of them. No one will notice a
thing.
Are you crazy? That maid tells your mother everything, trust
me.
Maria s okay, he said. She s been with us forever.
I rolled my eyes. About some things males had no idea. I must
have lost my mind agreeing to this farce. Your mother s no fool. She ll
see straight through us.
Not if we convince her we re in love. How hard can it be?
Clearly he had no idea what women said to each other when
men were not around. I was going to be grilled on every detail of our
supposed love affair. And if my story didn t match his& We need to go
over the details again, I said, panicking.
We met at our friend Suzie s birthday party six months ago and
hit it off right away, Eric said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
unsound and utterly contemptible, but I love my father and I want him
to die with peace of mind. Is that a crime?
He was so convincing, I found myself creating justifications of
my own. Surely it could do no harm to let his dad die happy. In some
alternative reality we might have been two straight people who fell in
love and decided to get married, then realized we weren t meant for one
another. It happened.
I took in the sensual line of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids,
the careless grace of his body. A straight woman would have no trouble
" 56 "
CHANCE
pretending to be besotted with Eric. I pounced on this concept. What
about your fag hags? Can t you ask one of them?
Eric winced. I d rather eat a dog turd.
He painted a scary picture for me. They turn up at his mom s
town apartment, the fake fiancée flashing a fake diamond. Next minute
she and Mom have it all worked out. Why wait, when they could hold
the wedding ceremony at Dad s bedside? Who needs a honeymoon in
Hawaii when there s the beach house in La Jolla? You never told me
your folks had a beach house in La Jolla, the fag hag squeals.
Do you think I d get that ring off her finger without a fight? Eric
sighed. Mom would never speak to me again if I dumped the perfect
daughter-in-law.
I could see his point. I ll think about it.
As if sensing my waning resolve, he said, It s not just for me,
Chance. It s for you too.
I don t understand.
If you want a different life you have to say yes to the Fates.
The Fates aren t asking. You are.
He placed his cheek against mine and whispered, I promise you
can wear the pants.
I elbowed him away, resenting that a man had the power to make
my nipples hard. It was very confusing. I can t take time off my job.
Try, he begged. You know you want to.
Is there a computer at your mom s?
I knew it! He kissed my hands.
I took them back. My fingers got enough slobbering from dogs. I
haven t said yes.
You will.
Last-word junkie, I grumbled.
" 57 "
" 58 "
CHANCE
CHAPTER SIX
a Jolla is absurdly clean. Struck by the pristine pavements,
Ltrimmed hedges, and vast pastel bungalows, I said. It looks
like a theme park for rich people.
Eric glanced at me over his sunglasses. You think this is
pretentious? Wait till you see my parents place.
We passed a line of faux Spanish castillos screened by wrought-
iron fences and lush foliage. One place had white peacocks prowling
the emerald lawns. It made a change from Dobermans.
Wow. I was enthralled. Was that Marlon Brando s house?
You sound like a tourist.
I am a tourist! I had already planned my week. The San Diego
Zoo. Sea World. Old Town. Balboa Park.
We entered a curved driveway lined with heavy-headed palms.
Sprinklers made rainbows above sweeping flower borders. The house
was a mansion in flamingo pink stucco. Marble lions sprawled on either
side of the entrance, lambs sitting between their paws.
Confounded by this display of metaphor and the opulent
surroundings, I said, You never told me your parents were bloated
capitalists.
I didn t think it was important, comrade. Eric parked the BMW
he d rented for our trip his prized vintage Packard being too divine
to be subjected to the lengthy journey from San Francisco. He got out
and opened the passenger door for me, taking my elbow as I clambered
out.
Crossing the terra-cotta expanse in front of the house, I felt
ridiculous in the outfit he had chosen for me butter yellow Capri pants,
" 59 "
Grace Lennox
turquoise crop top, and sling-back sandals. I couldn t stop twisting the
hefty engagement ring he had given me to seal our lie.
A woman descended the half-moon front steps to greet us. Dark
blue eyes that might have been Eric s stared from a polished Grace
Kelly face framed with ash blonde waves. She smiled coolly and ran a
smoothing hand over her plain beige dress.
I m so very glad you could come, she said.
Eric kissed her on each cheek and introduced me like a high school
boy with his prom date. Mother, I d like you to meet my fiancée,
Chantelle Delaney.
Mrs. Standish took my hand and planted a dry little kiss on my
cheek. She wore a subtle floral scent. Welcome to our home, Chantelle,
she said in a brittle tone and released me immediately.
She took Eric by the arm and we walked into an entrance hall
that belonged in a movie. Remembering Suzie s advice about things
you can t go wrong saying, I gazed around and said, What a beautiful
home you have, Mrs. Standish.
Thank you. Her tone thawed slightly. I m afraid I can t take all
the credit. My husband s passion for the beaux arts has always defined
our living spaces.
What to say to a woman who channeled Architectural Digest? I
can see how much time and thought went into this, I declared with
suitable awe. The artworks alone. Breathtaking.
A little more of the permafreeze melted. My dear, you must be
desperate to freshen up. With the faintest hint of coyness, she reached
for my left hand. But first, let me see it.
My heart almost stopped beating. Here was a woman who knew
what real diamonds looked like. We were doomed. I smiled with rabbity
eagerness and exclaimed, Isn t it totally perfect?
A wonderful choice, she agreed. I love the Asscher cut& that
tranquil pool effect.
Eric took this endorsement in stride. I couldn t resist. It was
between an Asscher and a radiant.
A radiant& In a hush-hush tone, Mrs. Standish confided,
Rather Hollywood, don t you think? What do they call it? Oh, yes&
bling dear me.
Mother, you are such a snob. But you re right. A classic cut suits
Chantelle best.
" 60 "
CHANCE
She nodded intently. You were wise to go under three carats.
As if I weren t standing right there being discussed, she continued,
Anything larger would look vulgar on a hand like hers. And the
platinum is ideal for her skin tone.
I was impressed. Eric must have paid quite a lot of money for a
fake that would fool a connoisseur like his mother. I called to mind what
a fag hag might say in a situation like this, and gushed, That s exactly
what I thought too. I just couldn t believe it when he proposed.
I think we were all surprised, Mrs. Standish said dryly.
She summoned a solidly built maid, who picked up my bags,
ordered Eric to bring his, and led us to an upstairs room with views of
the sea. There was one bed.
I thought you said we d be in separate rooms, I hissed, when
we were finally alone with our luggage. Assailed by mental images of
Mrs. Standish and the maid inspecting our sheets the next morning, I
bemoaned, This is a huge mistake.
Eric shrugged off my fears. Chill, sweetie. There are four more
bedrooms on this level. I ll take one of them. No one will notice a
thing.
Are you crazy? That maid tells your mother everything, trust
me.
Maria s okay, he said. She s been with us forever.
I rolled my eyes. About some things males had no idea. I must
have lost my mind agreeing to this farce. Your mother s no fool. She ll
see straight through us.
Not if we convince her we re in love. How hard can it be?
Clearly he had no idea what women said to each other when
men were not around. I was going to be grilled on every detail of our
supposed love affair. And if my story didn t match his& We need to go
over the details again, I said, panicking.
We met at our friend Suzie s birthday party six months ago and
hit it off right away, Eric said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]