The Pretend Girlfriend (12 page)

"Come right up, dad. Remember which apartment it is?" she said.

"Yep," he replied. She held the buzzer down for a few seconds, then waited to make sure he got inside.

A minute later, he knocked on the door. She was in the bathroom, checking to make sure she looked okay. A little warn out, maybe, she thought as she looked at her reflection. But honestly, what could someone expect after a dream like that one?

"Coming!" she said, scurrying to the door and pulling it open.

Her father stood outside, hands in his pockets. He wore a pair of old jeans and a polo shirt. In the past couple years, his hair had receded pretty far, leaving him with a prodigious forehead that wrinkled whenever he smiled, or whenever someone mentioned Gwen's mother. It wrinkled then as he grinned down at her. They hugged.

"Come on in, dad," she said. They wound up in the kitchen, her dad leaning against the fridge, Gwen against the counter in front of the sink.

"Place looks good," he said.

"Yeah, it's okay. Hey, dad, not that I'm not happy you came or anything, but..."

"Why am I here?" he finished.

"Bingo."

He took one of his hands out of his pocket to rub at the broad expanse of forehead. "You're in trouble. I can't just leave my little girl when she's in trouble."

It at once annoyed her that he still called her "my little girl" despite her being pretty close to finishing her Bachelor's and endeared her that he'd actually showed up when she asked for help. She knew it was at least partly so he could rub it in her mom's face the next time they sat down with their lawyers, but it still felt nice to have someone care, to have someone offer help and not want anything in return.

"That's sweet, dad," she said.

"Yeah, I was just on my way to go rent a moving van, then I figured we could grab some lunch and then come back here and start packing..." he said.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Excuse me? Packing?"

Her dad gave her a look that said, "Uh, yeah? Why else would I be here?"

"I never asked you to help me move," she said.

"You don't need to
ask
, Gwenny. I'm your father; I'm here to help."

She was glad Beatrice wasn't around to hear that. Beatrice would call her Gwenny for the rest of the month, if she'd been there. No one but her parents called her that. Which was just fine with her. Gwenny sounded like a name for a little girl, or a cute puppy. Neither of which she was, clearly.

Again, she got that simultaneous feeling of annoyance and gratitude. Though her annoyance, she knew, was unwarranted. She hadn't told him everything was fine yet, after all. She couldn't help contrasting her father to Henry Manning. She didn't think old Henry would offer Aiden a hand even if he were drowning.

And that just made her feel more sympathy for Aiden, which softened her smile. "Thanks, dad. You have no idea how happy that makes me feel that you'd come down like this... without calling ahead... and offer to help. But you really didn't have to. I have everything sorted out, now."

Her dad started in about getting out quickly to make sure they could rent a truck, then stopped in mid-sentence. "What do you mean? Did you find that bit... That awful roommate of yours?"

"No," Gwen said. Then she regretted saying it.

"So how did you come up with that five grand?"

Sometimes, people have this habit of offering a possibility or two on speculation. She really wished her dad had said something like, "Did you get a lucky scratch ticket?" Anything she could just nod and smile to and say how she was set and that they could grab lunch but then he really needed to get going because she had things to do...

But her father didn't offer any possibilities. His forehead wrinkled again, and he gave her that look she knew all too well from her childhood that indicated that he knew she lied, or wasn't telling him something.

Normally, he just kept looking at her like that until she broke. And she invariably did. Her parents didn't believe in corporal punishment, but sometimes she wished that they had. The sting of a slap was infinitely better than the guilt she felt under that glare, and the disappointed look that would follow when she finally revealed the truth. The aforementioned sting disappeared quickly, after all. The disappointment of a parent tended to linger.

"Dad..." she said.

He didn't respond. He was the expert at this, after all.

"This is ridiculous!" she continued. Still no break in his expression.

And it was ridiculous, she thought. Ridiculous that she was an adult, legally able to make her own decisions, decide her own destiny, tell all the lies she wanted, and yet still fall under the power of that particular stare.

She licked her lips, her eyes searching about the small kitchen, lighting on the baker's rack, on the microwave stand, on the stove, as though she might find a convincing lie in any of those places. But of course she couldn't.

She could feel herself crumbling, her willpower evaporating and melting like so much ice placed under a heat lamp.

And then someone knocked on the door. "I have to get that. It's important. I'll be right back, dad..." she said, rushing out of the kitchen, ready to kiss whoever waited on the other side, even if it was the hairy old superintendent.

"Gwen..." her father said as she rushed past him.

"Really, dad, I'll be right back. Hold that thought!"

Smiling broadly, the adrenaline of her escape leaving her a little shaky, Gwen reached the door and pulled it open.

Aiden stood on the other side. "Hey, Gwen..." he said, moving to step in.

She tried to close the door in his face, "Not now! Go away!" she said. He had to get out of here before her father saw.

"What?" he said. He stuck his foot against the door. The bottom of the jamb connected with the shiny toe of his shoe with a squeak. And she couldn't budge the door any nearer to the frame.

"Come back later, okay? Please?" Gwen said, sticking her face in the gap and doing her best to whisper. Her ears strained to hear any sound of her father's approach. Maybe he didn't hear anything, she thought.

"This is ridiculous," Aiden said, "It's also clearly against the guidelines we set up."

Gwen readied a torrent of insults and foul words concerning what she thought of the guidelines in this particular instance, but didn't get the chance to begin hurling any of them at him.

"Guidelines? Guidelines for what, Gwen?" her father said.

Gwen hunched her back up and flinched as though deflecting an attack. Aiden mouthed a
Who is this?
at her. She mouthed,
Be cool
, back at him. Which was a mistake, since he just shrugged at her. Did rich people not use cool or something?

It was a point that would have to wait until later for further study.

Gwen fixed a smile on her face. She grabbed Aiden and hauled him into the apartment. The three of them stood awkwardly in the cramped-feeling entrance hall. Aiden's shoulder kept brushing against the coat rack, the jacket he wore today touching the one he'd lent her last night.

"Guidelines for what?" her father said, glaring at the both of them. He saw the jacket on the rack. "Is that his? Gwen, are you seeing someone in secret or something?"

"Yes," Aiden said. Gwen said, "No," at the same time.

She glared at Aiden. "What we mean is that yes, we are seeing each other. No, it isn't a secret... Aiden, this is my father, David. Dad, this is Aiden, my... boyfriend." Was boyfriend even the right term anymore? Saying it made her feel like she was 15 again, introducing her date to her dad.

Things could have gotten quite awkward, then, if Aiden didn't go into business mode. He gave Gwen a sharp look, then smiled at her father.

"David! Nice to meet you; I've been looking forward to this..." he said, stepping forward and offering a hand. Her father reached out, and found his hand wrapped up in both of Aiden's and receiving an enthusiastic pumping.

"Nice to meet you, uh, Aiden? Look, can this wait until later? Gwen and I need to talk about getting her packed up and back home."

"Packed?" Aiden said, shooting a look of confusion so genuine and innocent back at Gwen that she almost believed it herself. He didn't let go of her father's hand, which confused the older, shorter man somewhat.

"Yes, she's been having some financial difficulties, I'm not sure if she's told you..." David said.

Again, that look of near-perfect confusion. And then an equally impressive widening of the eyes in realization. "Oh, that! Gwen, sweetie, you haven't told him yet?"

"Told me what?" David said, giving his hand an experimental tug and discovering that, yes, Aiden really wasn't letting go.

Gwen suppressed her own urge to ask him the same question, instead smiling and saying, "No, I haven't, actually. Why don't you tell him, dear? I insist."

If this had been a moment in sitcom on TV, Gwen might have laughed. But it wasn't TV; it was her life. And beneath that (hopefully) sweet smile she felt about ready to shake apart.

"Oh, well, of course," Aiden said, turning back to David, "You see, sir, that money stuff is all sorted out now."

"How?" David said, the concern beginning to show on his face as he glanced between his trapped hand and the face of the man responsible tor binding him like that.

"It's an amazing story, actually! Gwen tells it better..."

"Please, sweetums, you tell him. I just like to hear the sound of your voice," Gwen said, enjoying the look of panic that flashed across Aiden's face when he looked at her. Maybe this was funny, after all.

"Well, you see, Gwen found a ring..." Aiden started.

Gwen didn't know quite why she decided to join in on the story, but before she could second guess herself she blurted out, "Yes, a diamond engagement ring!"

"...A diamond ring," Aiden said, "When she was in Manhattan yesterday. I helped her find out..."

"I did most of the work myself, actually," Gwen said. Aiden shot her a look that said,
What are you doing?

She shrugged at him.

"Of course, yes, she did most of the work herself with a bit of help from me. Anyway, it turns out the ring was an heirloom belonging to the Astors who are family friends of mine..."

"It was on the Titanic!" Gwen said, finally remembering where she remembered that name, Astor, from.

A vein started throbbing in Aiden's forehead. Gwen realized that she should just leave the story to him, that every time she blurted something out it just made things more complicated. But it was just so fun. Also, slightly (more than slightly) vindictive of her. Aiden had put her in this spot in the first place. Maybe it was his turn to feel the heat.

But Aiden's smile never faltered, even though his stare could have poked holes through lead. He turned to fully face David, blocking Gwen out of the conversation with his back.

"The Titanic? The big ship from the James Cameron movie?" David said, giving his hand another unsuccessful tug.

"Yes, from the Titanic, so you can guess how important it is to them. Anyway, I recognized it and we brought it straight to their penthouse in the city. They were so happy to see it that they simply insisted they give Gwen a reward..."

"Of five thousand dollars!" Gwen and Aiden said at the same time.

He looked over his shoulder at her and their eyes met. For just a moment, Gwen thought she felt something in that look, something that turned that fake sweet smile on her face into a real one. Aiden must have noticed, because he frowned slightly.

The shared look went on for a moment too long, and Aiden dropped his eyes first.

What was that about?
Gwen wondered.

"Well then, how, umm, great. So I guess that you won't be needing to move back home, then?" David said.

"Oh, sir, I'm not letting this one get away that easily," Aiden said.

David didn't say anything for a few moments. He looked first at his daughter, then to Aiden, then back to Gwen.

Gwen's amusement at the story melted away, replaced by cool anticipation mixed with apprehension. Would he buy the story?

"Well, I'm happy that you got a stroke of luck, it seems. And that you've met such a... fine young man," David said.

At that, Aiden released her father's hand. He snatched it back as though fearful Aiden might be toying with him. He flexed his fingers and massaged his palm, and Gwen wondered just how tight a hold Aiden had used.

Gwen's shoulders relaxed and she let out the breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding. If her father had said that he thought the whole story was baloney and then demanded the truth, Gwen didn't think she could have lied about it again.

And then Aiden continued, "Well, David—can I call you David?—Gwen and I were actually just about to go out on a lunch date. Would you care to join us?"

"Oh, yes, dad, that would be great! There's a nice Starbucks just down the street with good paninis and wraps."

"Actually, I should probably start on my way back home before the rush traffic begins," David said.

"That's a shame. Let me know next time you're in the area, and we'll be sure to set something up," Aiden said, leaning back against the wall so that he wasn't blocking David's exit.

"What was this about guidelines?" David said.

Oh!
Gwen thought. In that rush she experienced from Aiden's story, she'd forgotten about her father overhearing that bit. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten. She smiled, gearing up for another story, another lie.

But again, Aiden saved the day. He offered David his hand again. "Really, David, it's been great meeting you. I can't begin to say what a pleasure it's..."

The color drained from David's face, his forehead wrinkling at the thought of another one of those extended handshakes.

"No, really, the pleasure's all mine," David said. He gave Aiden's hand three quick pumps and snatched his own hand back before anything untoward might happen. Then he rushed towards the door, pulling Gwen into a brief hug which included a peck on the cheek.

"Can't wait to come again, Gwenny. You and Aiden have fun," David said, pulling the door open, one foot already in the hall. When he realized what he said, he leaned back in and added, "But... not too much fun, okay? Love you. Glad everything's worked out."