The Dysfunctional Test (16 page)

But an hour later, after Heather had picked out five dresses and eight shirts, Camryn looked at herself in the changing room mirror. “I look like a watermelon.”

Heather shook her head. “You do not. It looks nice on you.”

Nice. They were back to nice.

The lime green monstrosity of a sundress was too snug around her waist and breasts, and cut an inch above the knee before the cotton flowed out in a loose skirt. It was a spaghetti strap too.

“What’s going on with you and Troy?”

Camryn looked at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Heather crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. “Uh huh. Something’s going on. You two actually act like a real couple.”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

Heather glared at her, looked straight into her eyes. Camryn wanted to shrink. “You like him. Really like him, don’t you?”

“I’m calling the cable company to have them block Lifetime from your service.”

“You’re falling for Troy,” she responded, as if not hearing her at all.

“And Hallmark for good measure.”

She shook her head, gaze softening. “Be careful, Cam. You don’t want to…”

“Get my heart broken?” she finished. Camryn knew well enough where this conversation was heading. “Because Troy won’t return those feelings. I’m not someone who’d interest him. Don’t worry, Heather. I know that.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she whispered, the look in her eyes proving that a lie.

“I don’t need a lecture, or your warnings. Nothing is going on between me and Troy.”

Heather stared at her a second more, scooped all the clothes into her arms, and walked out.

Camryn pinched her eyes closed, sighed, and muttered to herself. “New hair and clothes don’t change ugly.”

Heather was right, whether she said so or not. Camryn needed that mental reality slap. No matter what she thought was going on, Troy would never return these feelings. She reached down to grab her old clothes from the bench, only to come up empty.

Heather had taken her clothes.

Camryn opened the changing room door to demand them back but found Emily instead. Camryn took her niece’s hand and looked around the store for Heather, finding her at the register. Before she could say anything, Heather leaned over and cut the tag off the dress she had on, then handed the scissors back to the cashier.

“All paid for. You can wear it home.”

“I don’t want to wear it home. I want my clothes.”

Heather picked up Emily and shrugged. “Too late. They’re in the car.” She looked at Emily. “Ready to go?”

Camryn glanced outside the window where the rest were waiting. No one had the bags, which meant they were already in the trunk. It was an ambush. Fine. She’d wear this home, sneak inside, and change before anyone saw her.

“Finally,” Fisher said. “They’re home. I’m starving.”

From the patio chair, Troy glanced over to the driveway at the approaching car. They’d been gone all day doing girly stuff. Cam was going to be pissy. He looked out over the yard as the car doors closed.

“Oh my God,” Justin said. “Look at all those bags. Who let Heather near a retail store?”

“What did they do to Camryn?” Dad said, setting his lemonade on the table in front of them.

Troy looked. Blinked. She was wearing green. Not white, not beige, not black. Green. And her hair was different. Lighter. Shorter. The ladies walked over to them and set down their bags.

Justin eyed the goodies. “Did you buy out the mall?”

Heather grinned. “These are all for Cam. We bought her some new clothes.”

Troy looked at her, hands on her hips, eyes cast down. Oh, she was not a happy camper. But damn, did she look good. Whatever they did to her hair made her eyes stand out. They were beautiful before, but now it was all he could see. His stomach did a slow roll as his hands flexed.

There had to be a way to stop this reaction to her. To stop this train from derailing in front of him. She was clawing her way under his skin.

“That’s a nice shade of watermelon,” Yjaka Mitch said, grinning like a cat for what he thought a clever tease.

Cam whipped her gaze to Heather, something close to accusatory.

Emily hopped over and pulled on his sleeve. “Aunt Cam isn’t ugly anymore, right, Uncle Troy?”

His jaw dropped. He looked at Cam. Her eyes were closed, head down. “She was never ugly. Who said that?”

Camryn interrupted any response. “Bernice, I’ll help you make dinner.”

It wasn’t just her body language that had Troy worried, her slouched shoulders and crossed arms, but her voice had gone flat.

Justin’s mother nodded and they went inside.

Fisher came over to them. “Who told you Auntie Cam was ugly? We don’t say mean things like that. You need to tell her you’re sorry when she comes back out.”

“But I didn’t say it!” Emily insisted, lip quivering. “Auntie Cam said she was fixing her ugly. I didn’t think she was ugly, honest.”

Troy’s chest constricted. If she did all this, her hair, her clothes, because she thought she was ugly, then why did she look so mad at Heather? Cam wasn’t one of these females who spent hours in the bathroom primping. It’s one of the things he found so damn charming about her. She was a refreshing change from the high maintenance women he surrounded himself with.

Nana came outside to join them and sat in a chair next to Troy. She looked at the faces around her. “What’s the matter with all of you?”

Emily burst out into tears. “I hurt Auntie Cam’s feelings.” Anna rushed over and picked her up.

Nana huffed. “She doesn’t have feelings. What’s this about?”

Kuma Viola fluffed her hair. “Apparently someone called Cam ugly and Emily overheard.”

This had Nana in a rage. “Who called my granddaughter ugly?” Her cane whipped up at her side like a light saber ready to defeat the dark force.

“I think Emily misunderstood,” Fisher claimed, sitting back down.

“She must have misheard,” Tetaka Myrtle said, hiccupping. “I mean, I’d kill for her cheekbones.”

“I’d kill for her breasts,” Heather said.

Troy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps you all should tell her these things? Maybe she doesn’t know.”

“Bull,” Nana said. “That’s a woman confident in her own skin.”

Troy didn’t think so. He was beginning to wonder if he’d pegged her wrong. If they all had.

“Emily will apologize when they come back out,” Fisher said. “Won’t you, honey? Even if you didn’t mean it how it came out.” Emily nodded her teary agreement.

“Well,” Heather said. “If you think I should, I’ll tell her I want her breasts.”

Justin laughed. “I second that.”

“No,” Anna interjected, handing Emily over to Fisher. “You’ll embarrass her. Just leave it alone.”

An awkward silence ensued until Bernice and Camryn came back outside. He watched her as she set down a bowl of chicken salad and a plate of croissants. She looked calm, not at all hurt someone called her ugly.

Camryn was the furthest thing from ugly, but he wondered if she knew that.

Bernice set out a plate of fruit and a bag of chips. Everyone began to dig in.

He couldn’t stomach the food, so he sat back and watched her. She didn’t seem to notice until after several minutes, she glanced his way. Her eyebrows drew together in question. He shook his head, just slight enough for her to notice, and mouthed,
You look nice
. Her lips parted, then pursed.

Well, damn. There was his answer. She didn’t believe him. It wasn’t that she
couldn’t
handle a compliment, rather she didn’t
believe
it.

A look passed between them, his laced with guilt, hers with sadness. But over the course of a few seconds, it morphed into heat. Want. It was just her and him, finally acknowledging what shouldn’t be said. Things between them had been building to this point. He’d tried fighting it.

“I don’t want it!” Emily shouted. “I want chicken nuggets!”

Bernice placed a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, dear. I don’t have any.”

Fisher set his sandwich down. “We don’t cater meals. She eats what we serve.”

“She’s just tired,” Anna said. “Emily, you’re being rude.”

“I don’t care! I want chicken nuggets.”

“Mrs. Horton,” Cam said, calm as a summer breeze. She set her sandwich down and brushed her hands together. “Do you have any baby food?”

Troy couldn’t help but smile. His goddaughter always had a healthy appetite. Even when she was a baby. At least she was on table food now. He remembered being impressed the first time she ate peas. Any child who could keep down something even the Exorcist kid spit out had talent.

Bernice seemed to catch on to Camryn’s tactic. “Now that I might have.”

Emily stopped crying and stared at them. “I’m not a baby. I don’t eat baby food.”

Cam shrugged. “You don’t eat big girl food either. I think we should get the baby food.”

Bernice stood. “No problem. I’ll be right back…”

“No!” Emily yelled and picked up her sandwich. After taking a huge bite, she said around her food, “See?”

Bernice sat back down. Troy grinned like an ass. Never mind him being a good father, as Cam indicated once. Cam had reverse psychology down to an art. No kid stood a chance. Now
she’d
be the great parent. They’d probably be little prodigies, playing Mozart by age two.

“I’m sorry that you’re ugly.”

And there went the mood.

Everyone stared at Emily, everyone except Cam, who examined the food on her plate.

Anna wiped her mouth on a napkin. “What you mean is, I’m sorry I called you ugly.”

“Right,” Emily said, popping a grape in her mouth.

“Oh, Cam, I’m so sorry. She misunderstood something and she just repeats everything she hears…”

Cam lifted her hand, cutting off Anna. “It’s fine. She’s a three-year-old.”

“You’re not ugly,” her mom said, causing Cam to drop her head in her hands in obvious frustration.

“Yes, I know I’m not Swamp Thing. Can we move on now?”

Troy watched her, wanting to take her upstairs and show her just how ugly she wasn’t. “You’re several bars above Swamp Thing.”

“Except in the morning,” Fisher said, trying to lighten the mood.

Epic fail.

No one spoke until Emily again filled the silence. “What’s a Swamp Thing?”

Chapter Eleven

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Pretending to be a pleasant person all day is exhausting.

Troy turned on the bedside lamp and pulled his pajama bottoms from his bag. Camryn walked to her bag, pulled out her stuff, and proceeded to the bathroom without a word. He changed and sat on the bed. After a few moments, she walked to the closet and reached for a hanger.

“You looked nice today.” With her back to him, he couldn’t see her face, but she paused before slipping the dress on the hanger. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…beginning to hate that word.”

“Nice? Okay, I’ll use another. You looked pretty today.”

Sighing heavily, she walked to her side of the bed and snatched her bag before returning to the closet. Guess pretty was out too.

“So, what sparked this change? Your hair, the clothes?”

She disappeared into the closet. “Heather made me.” He heard some shuffling before… “And dammit, she took my clothes.”

He got up and walked to the closet. There was more color in there than a Smurf village. She marched to him, past him, and right on her way to the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?”

“To kill my sister.”

He ran over to her. “Whoa, not so fast.” Grabbing her by the waist, he picked her up and deposited her feet back by the closet. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” she repeated, stepping into the closet once more. She pulled out a pink shirt. “Fuchsia. This shirt is fuchsia, Troy.” She pulled another. “Turquoise, orange, yellow… It’s a waste of money.”

“Well, she bought them for you. Might as well wear them through the trip. You can get your regular clothes back at home. What’s wrong with a little color anyway? That green looked…beautiful on you.”

“Troy…”

And then it hit him. Wear neutral colors, no one notices. Wear those and… “You don’t like the attention. That’s it, isn’t it? What’s wrong with a little attention once in a while?”

She looked down at the clothes in her arms. “Because what happened down there at dinner happens, that’s why.”

He swallowed and softened his tone. “What was that about? This ugly business?”

Carefully, she hung the shirts on their hangers and deposited them on the rod. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths. It was quite cute. And he could tell she wasn’t going to answer his question.

“I’ve never seen you mad.”