Too Good to Be True(105)

“Grace is dating someone wonderful,” Mom announced loudly.

“A convict,” Mémé said, then belched. “An Irish convict with big hands. Right, Grace?”

Mr. Carson choked, Mrs. Carson’s slitty eyes grew wider with malicious glee. “Well,” I began.

“He used to be an accountant,” my father said heartily. “Went to Tulane.”

Margaret sighed.

“He’s a handyman, right, Grace?” Mémé bellowed. “Or a gardener. Or a lumberjack. I can’t remember.”

“Or a coal miner. Or a shepherd,” Margaret added, making me snort.

“He’s wonderful,” Mom said firmly, ignoring both her eldest child and Callahan’s criminal past. “So, er, handsome.”

“Oh, he is!” Natalie said, turning her shining eyes to the Carsons. “He and Grace are so good together. You can tell they’re just crazy about each other.”

“He dumped me,” I announced calmly, wiping my mouth. Across the table, Margaret choked on some wine. As she sputtered into her napkin, she gave me a thumbs-up.

“The gardener dumped you? What? What did she say?” Mémé asked. “Why are you mumbling, Grace?”

“Callahan dumped me, Mémé,” I said loudly. “My ethics aren’t up to snuff.”

“The prisoner said that?” Mémé barked.

“Pish!” my mother said. No one else said a word. Natalie looked like I’d clubbed her over the head.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “Sorry to say, I think he’s right.”

“Oh, Pudding, no. You’re wonderful,” Dad said. “What does he know, after all? He’s an idiot. An ex-con and an idiot.”

“An ex-con?” Mr. Carson wheezed.

“No, he’s not, Dad. He’s not an idiot, that is. He is an ex-con, Mr. Carson,” I clarified.

“Well,” Mom said, her eyes darting between the Carsons and me, “do you think you might get back with your pediatric surgeon? He was such a nice young man.”

Wow. Amazing how a lie could be so powerful. I looked at Margaret. She looked back, lifted an eyebrow. I turned back to my mother.

“There was no pediatric surgeon, Mom,” I said, enunciating so Mémé could hear. “I made him up.”

You know, it was almost fun, dropping a bomb like that. Almost. Margaret sat back and smiled broadly. “You go, Grace,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, she looked genuinely happy.

I sat up a little straighter, though my heart was thudding so hard I thought I might throw up. My voice shook…but it carried, too. “I pretended to date someone so Natalie and Andrew wouldn’t feel so guilty. And so everyone would stop treating me like I was some sort of abandoned dog covered in sores.”

“Oh, Grace,” Nat whispered.

“What? Grace, you can’t be serious!” Dad exclaimed.

“I am, Dad. I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing hard. Here it was at last…my confession. I started talking again, and my voice grew faster and faster. “Andrew broke up with me because he fell in love with Natalie, and it hurt. A lot. But I was getting over it. I was, and if they wanted to be together, I didn’t want to be the reason they stayed apart. So I made up Wyatt Dunn, this impossibly perfect guy, and everyone felt much better, and I just ran with it because to tell you the truth, it felt great, even just pretending I had a boyfriend who was so wonderful. But then I fell for Callahan, and obviously I had to break up with Wyatt, and then, that night that Andrew came over and kissed me on the porch, Cal was really unhappy about that, and we talked and then I ended up telling him about Wyatt Dunn.

And he dumped me. Because I lied.”

My breath came in shaky little gasps, and my back was damp with sweat. Margaret reached across the table and put her hand over mind. “Good girl,” she murmured.

Natalie didn’t move. The Carsons’ heads swiveled to gape at their son, who looked like he’d just been shot in the stomach, eyes wide with horror, face white. The rest of the restaurant was so quiet, you could almost hear the crickets cheeping.

“Wait a minute, wait a sec,” my father said, his face slack with confusion. “Then who was I talking to in the bathroom that night?”

“Shut it, Jim,” my mother hissed.

“That was Julian, pretending to be Wyatt,” I said. “Any other questions? Comments? No? Okay, then, I’m going out for some air.”

On shaking legs, I walked across the restaurant, past the now-silent diners, my face on fire. As I entered the foyer, Cambry leaped over to open the front door. “You are one magnificent creature,” he said in an admiring voice as I walked out.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

He had the grace to leave me alone. I was shaking like a leaf, my heart thudding. Who said that confession was good for the soul? I wanted to throw up. Going over to a small bench that sat in the restaurant’s front garden, I sat down heavily. Pressed my cold fingers against my burning cheeks and closed my eyes, just trying to breathe normally. In and out. In and out. Not hyperventilating or passing out would be enough for now.

“Grace?” Natalie’s voice was timid. I hadn’t heard her footsteps.

“Hey, Nattie,” I said wearily without looking up.