Fake (West Hollywood 1)

“She’s adorable,” gushed Renee with tears in her eyes. “Oh my God. I’m so happy to meet you, Norah.”

“Sweetie,” said Tom to his wife with an indulgent smile.

“You could have called.” Patrick started unloading the luggage from their rental car. “That would have been nice.”

“Well . . .” began his father, giving his mother a definite I-told-you-so look.

His mother just flipped her mane of silver hair. “We did, when we got to the gate.”

“A little sooner maybe next time,” said Patrick. “Say, before you leave home.”

“Shut up and come here. It’s only a brief visit. You’ll survive.” His mom grabbed hold of his face and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “We’re just so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Tom thumped him on the back in a manly fashion. “It’s wonderful to be here and to get to spend time with you both.”

Patrick gave him a hesitant smile. Like the universe would come crashing down if he actually admitted to being happy about something. “It’s good to see you too.”

“What did you think was going to happen when you announced your engagement on social media without us ever having met your fiancée?” asked Renee. “Seriously?”

Patrick scratched his head. “I was going to call.”

I gave him a look that hopefully said “this is so all your fault.”

The man just sighed.

“We’ve barely heard from you lately,” she said.

And all of this made me wonder, when was the last time he’d seen his parents? Really talked to them? I’d like to think since the whole Liv thing happened, but something told me not so much. Maybe his mom had known perfectly well what she was doing by not calling first. Don’t give him an option.

Renee grabbed hold of my hand this time. “Come and sit with me. I want to hear everything about you and how you two met.”

Patrick and I exchanged glances. Nervous ones.

“Okay,” I said with a new smile in place. This one projected an aura of “please don’t hurt me, I’m a nice person really.” It had been a while since I’d met a significant other’s parents. Fake or otherwise. And this was sounding more and more like a pleasantly voiced interrogation.

After dumping his parents’ luggage in the other spare bedroom, Patrick headed straight for the liquor cabinet. And he did not delay. I was ensconced on the couch with Renee on one side and Tom on the other while Patrick got busy tending bar. Gin and tonics for his mom and me. Scotch on the rocks for him and his dad. Without waiting for anyone to make a toast, Patrick downed a good half of his liquor. I took my cue from him and also drank heartily. Hooray for liquid courage.

“So, how did you meet?” asked Renee.

I sat up so straight a ruler would be jealous. “At a lovely little Italian restaurant not too far away from here, actually. I was working there, and Patrick liked to sneak in between lunch and dinner when things were quiet.”

“Because he wanted to see you,” she supplied.

I smiled, which wasn’t technically a lie.

“And this had been going on for a while?” she asked.

“He’d been coming in for a few years, actually.”

“Paddy always did take his time.” Tom laughed. “Not one to rush in, are you, son?”

Let the record show, my fake smile was once again way better than Patrick’s. And he called himself an actor. Ha. What a loser.

“We’d almost given up hope he’d ever meet the right person.” Renee happy sighed. “And as for that unfortunate affair with that Anders woman . . .”

“Sweetie,” said Tom with a mild edge to his voice.

“I know, I know.” Renee straightened her shoulders. “We’re not going to talk about that. But you can’t imagine the awful comments and judgmental nonsense we heard from some people. Everyone makes mistakes, but whoo . . . that one was a doozy.”

Patrick kept a white-knuckled grip on his drink.

“When are you thinking of having the wedding?” she asked.

“There’s no rush,” said Patrick in a rush.

“We’re still deciding,” I added diplomatically.

“How about Christmas?” Renee clapped her hands all excited like. “Wouldn’t that be divine? We could go to the snow!”

“Um,” I said in a rare flash of brilliance.

“Of course that would make it hard for some of the family in Phoenix to attend,” Renee continued. “But just imagine the photos. Or you could have a winter wedding back home while the weather’s nice and cool. There are so many beautiful gardens to choose from.”

“Norah and I are still deciding,” said Patrick in a deceptively calm tone.

“Of course you are.” Tom gave me his best supportive dad face. Damn, it was good. “Your mom and I have been married for nearly forty years. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Take your time and enjoy yourselves. Enjoy this period in your lives and getting to be together, just the two of you.”