Until There Was You (22 page)

“Why isn’t Posey the true princess?” Brie asked, her voice loud and defensive, and Posey felt a rush of love. Tough-girl act aside, Brianna was a sweetheart.

“It’s really not my thing,” she said. “I’d rather be the evil wench. More character.”

“So Lady Boobs-a-Plenty got the job,” Brianna said.

It was true. Gretchen’s generous cleavage spilled out in levels not seen in New Hampshire since prostitution was outlawed. The true princess costume was low, tight and white, complete with sparkles, a staff and crown—Glinda the Good Witch, Vegas-style—and since Posey wasn’t the dress-up type, she didn’t really mind. Not much.

Max turned around and smiled. “Well, you’re still my princess, honey.”

“Aw. Thanks, Dad.”

“Can we stop the chatter? Places, everyone!” Gretchen commanded. Elise waddled obediently to the back of the float.

“This is so awesome, right?” she said to Brianna. “Don’t you, like,
love
being a goose?”

“If I had a gun—” Brianna began, but Posey snapped her beak closed.

“Okay, people, let’s make this a great show!” Gretchen said, her voice loud, her smile ferocious. “Brianna, if that’s your name, and Elise, would you mind honking once in a while? Not too loud. And in five, four, three…” She counted down on her fingers, going silent for two and one, as if the cameras were about to start broadcasting. The float rolled into motion. “Hello there!” Gretchen called. “So nice to see you! Happy Founders’ Day! Thank you!”

“Can I whip this candy at the back of her head?” Brianna asked, her voice muffled.

“No,” Posey said as Jon snorted. “Just toss it—gently—at the crowd.”

Posey loved the parade, roles aside. She knew plenty of people, of course, and Gretchen’s small fame had a couple of tweenie girls run out to the sleigh for an autograph, which Gretchen demurely gave. Brianna proved to have unerring aim, winging her classmates with the hard lumps of marzipan under the cover of goose. There were Kate and James, Kate blowing her nose loudly. Brie whipped about fifteen pieces of marzipan at James, and he gave her a peace sign in return. Kids yelled out to Jon, who responded by singing phrases of Gilbert and Sullivan. Elise was having a marvelous time, laughing and honking and occasionally leaning off the float for a glimpse of Mac’s solid back. They passed a group of familiar faces—Vivian and her geriatric peeps. “Hi, Vivian!” Posey called, laughing as Viv covered her mouth in horror. “Laugh all you want.” Vivian pulled out her phone, held it up, and Posey knew her picture would be on Facebook in seconds.

Unfortunately, a bank of solid gray clouds rolled in, dropping the temperature by a good five degrees. In her short-sleeved dirndl, which was thin with age, Posey was freezing. She looked enviously at the well-padded Gretchen, sitting snugly between her well-padded parents, and shivered.

The parade turned onto Miner Street, and people clapped and pointed at the Barefoot Fraulein, who was eating it up. “Thank you so much! It’s so nice to see everyone! Happy Founders’ Day!”

There was Inferno. The restaurant really was gorgeous, an old brick-and-stone building. The window boxes overflowed with trailing ivy and deep purple viburnum, and the paned windows gleamed. The staff wore all black. Max and Stacia studiously ignored the restaurant, waving to the folks on the other side of the street.

And there was Dante, just coming out of Inferno now, his trademark white suit a stark contrast to the black-clad staff. The sight of him caused a pang of anxiety in her stomach—that or the four pieces of marzipan she’d eaten. Again, the similarities between Dante and Liam leaped out at her. Two good-looking guys, neither of them interested in a real relationship. But she was on a float, and to compensate for the cold shoulder from her parents, she waved at the Inferno staff.

Dante folded his arms and shook his head. “Those geese look like they’re on their last legs,” he said, loud enough to be easily heard on the float. “I bet we’ll be seeing them on Guten Tag’s menu any day now.” He grinned, and his staff guffawed with mean laughter.

Posey’s head whipped around to look at her parents. Stacia’s mouth hung open, and Max’s face went white, then red. Gretchen stared ahead, her face red as well.

Posey looked back at Dante. They were almost past the restaurant now, and getting closer to Guten Tag. “You know, Dante,” she found herself calling, a sweet smile on her face, “you might be able to get some decent spaghetti at Inferno. But you can never seem to have any fun.” She let that sit a beat, then yelled as loudly as she could, “Zicke zacke, zicke zacke!”

“Hoi, hoi, hoi!” the crowd called back. After all, most of Bellsford had been to Guten Tag—once, at least—and if they hadn’t had a gourmet meal, they’d had fun. They’d had a night to remember. They’d been treated like family.

“Zicke zacke, zicke zacke!” Jon yelled this time, and again, the crowd chorused back.

Posey stood on a sleigh runner so she could squeeze her mother’s hand. “You guys okay?”

“Thank you, dear,” Stacia said.

“Good job, baby,” Max echoed. Gretchen had pasted a smile on her face and was waving robotically. Her face was scarlet.

Posey turned back to look at Dante. Even from half a block, she could see his look of contempt. “Love what you’re wearing,” he called, pointing to his chest.

Posey looked down at her own.

Oh, no. Her blouse was torn. A lot. The aging fabric had caught on the sleigh, apparently, and had split right down to the vest, the edges flopping out on either side. She grabbed the edges and pulled them closed, but the fabric tore right off in her hands. “Dang it!”

“Wardrobe malfunction,” Brianna murmured. “Hey, at least you wore a bra.”

Yeah. A graying, elderly bra with a safety pin. Posey had been forced to dig it out of the back of her drawer this morning, as Gretchen had forgotten to put their laundry in the dryer.

“Jon! Help me,” Posey hissed, turning away from the crowd. Brie stood on her other side, shielding her. Elise, too, waddled close around.

“We should go to Victoria’s Secret, right?” she said, cocking her head as she gazed at Posey’s chest.

“Oh, boy,” Jon said. “My kingdom for a sewing kit. Does anyone have a cape? No? Crap. Okay, just stand here, and um…don’t move a muscle. Only about a mile to go, right?”

Gretchen and the Osterhagens had resumed their royal duties and called out to their friends and acquaintances, unaware of Posey’s distress. No one was wearing anything that could be used to cover her up.

“Hey. Cordelia.”

Posey looked up, and there was Liam loping out from the sidewalk. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it up to Jon.

A warm, buttery sensation rolled through Posey’s legs. He was
saving
her. Unfortunately, that also meant he’d seen her rattiest bra, which was less than optimum, but still. “Thanks,” Posey said faintly.

“You’re a prince, Liam,” Jon said, handing over the coat with a pointed look. “A true prince.”

“Liam! Come join us at the beer garden after the parade, dear,” Stacia commanded from her perch up front. “Bring that beautiful child of yours.”

“Will do,” Liam said. He winked at Posey, then headed back to Nicole.

Liam’s jacket was heavy and still warm. It smelled like him, and it felt better than any clothing had ever felt in the history of the world.

“Well, if you weren’t in love with him already, I’ll bet the farm you are today. I know I am,” Jon whispered, waving to some students who were calling his name.

“He totally saved your ass,” Brie said, sounding mildly surprised. “And your boobs.”

T
HREE HOURS AND
five speeches later, Founders’ Day was officially over. Guten Tag’s beer garden was full, Otto had returned from his wife’s bedside and was playing polkas on his accordion, and Posey had yet to take off Liam’s jacket. Given her druthers, she would never take off Liam’s jacket. If possible, she would be buried in Liam’s jacket.

Not that Liam would notice. He was too busy glaring at Tanner Talcott, who was sitting at the next table with Nicole, talking about his English class while Nicole listened and glowed. Officially, Liam was sitting at Posey’s table, though he’d barely seemed to notice her since arriving. She, however, couldn’t stop her brain from chattering away.
Hey, Liam, thank you for your jacket. By the way, I actually have several very attractive bras, which I’d be happy to show you later. Also, thank you for the sex, which was sock-knocking, even though I am totally playing it cool. Oh, and are we on for tomorrow? Remember you asked me if I was free on Sunday? I still am, and tomorrow is Sunday, but I haven’t heard from you since you left my bed the other morning.

James and Kate arrived, and a round of hellos was exchanged. “We loved the float, didn’t we?” Kate announced, plunking herself down next to Posey. “It was the best float in the whole parade. James, tell Posey how much we loved their float.”

“So, so much,” James said, cocking an eyebrow.

“You know, I just sat down and right away, I have to pee,” Kate announced, hauling her bulk out of the chair. “James? Want to come?”

“I’m good, Mom,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Hey, I have your book,” Posey said as Kate lumbered away. “You left it at Irreplaceable a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, the birth-parents thing? Cool.”

“Liam! Liam, sweetheart, over here!” From the other corner of the beer garden, Stacia waved imperiously.

“Excuse me a second,” he said, his first words since arriving. He stood up, said something to Nicole, glared at Tanner, then made his way across the rooftop garden. A rather stunning brunette stopped him, putting her hand on his thigh and smiling up at him, and Posey had to drag her eyes off the little tableau.

Wednesday night seemed like aeons ago.

She glanced at Brianna and James, both of whom were watching Tanner and Nicole.

“The golden couple,” Brianna muttered.

“Totally,” James agreed. “Too perfect for the rest of us.”

“You guys are great, too,” Posey chided.

“Yeah. Dare to be different, right, James?” The two teenagers rolled their eyes at the dopey adult. Hey. It had been worth a shot.

Gretchen’s laugh cut across the crowd, and Posey looked up. Liam had made it to the Osterhagens, and Gret was fluttering her fingers over her boobage, just in case Liam hadn’t noticed it jutting out like the prow of a ship. He smiled, Max said something, and they all laughed.

“I have my DS downstairs in my backpack,” James said to Brianna. “Want to play ‘Dragon Master’?”

“Sure,” Brianna said. “Is that okay, Posey?”

“Oh, yeah. You two have fun. I’ll tell your mom where you are, James.”

“Don’t feel you have to,” he said, grinning.

The two left, and Posey offered a quick thanks that James had become Brie’s friend. Brianna, she knew, was lonely. Her family situation, cheap clothes and the fifty extra pounds she was packing didn’t make high school easy. James seemed happy enough, despite Kate’s constant attempts at symbiosis. And hey. Kate was doing a great job. James was gentle, wry and kind. Not your average teenage boy, and God bless him for it.

Well. Posey looked around. Here she was, alone at a table for eight. At least there was a giant plate of potato dumplings in front of her. But just as she felt the initial squirmings of awkwardness, Henry and Jon came over. “How are we?” Jon asked, setting a beer in front of her.

“We’re fine,” she said. “How was the hospital, Henry?”

“Oh, it was fantastic,” her brother answered. “Total BKA. Gorgeous.” At her look of confusion, he added, “Below the knee amputation. It was a crushing, right, so it was a mess, and not to blow my own horn, I did an amazing job. Want to see? I took pictures.” He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew his iPhone.

Posey duly admired the photos—she was used to it, after all—while Jon shielded his eyes.

“So, how was the float this year?” Henry asked.

Posey and Jon exchanged a look. Posey went first. “It was… Well, it was…”

“Sort of a Chagall nightmare theme,” came a voice. It was Liam. He set a glass of soda down in front of his daughter, then made his way around to Posey’s table and sat next to her. Their knees bumped under the table, and Posey felt her cheeks burn.

“A Chagall nightmare,” she said. “Aren’t we cultured.”

“I lived in L.A. I’m incredibly cool,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, and her toes curled in her silly shoes.

“Oh, dear. Mom’s gesturing,” Jon said. “Come, Henry. We’re needed.”

“I just sat down,” he protested.

“Come! Be a good son. See you two later.” Jon leaned down to kiss Posey’s cheek. “Don’t eat dumplings in front of him. That detachable jaw of yours is scary,” he whispered and then pulled his partner away.

Liam stared at his kid, and Posey tried not to stare at him. But it was hard. He was undeniably the best-looking guy on earth, and she couldn’t really blame the women who cut glances his way, or waved or called hello.

“Thanks again for your jacket,” she said after a minute or two had passed. “I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding at someone.

Posey realized abruptly that her regular clothes were downstairs, and she could change right then and there…indeed, she should’ve changed already, but clearly part of her wanted to hang on to the jacket, because apparently she was still the dopey teenager she’d been fifteen years ago.

“Dad? Can Tanner and I take a walk around the block?” Nicole asked.

“No,” Liam answered.

“Daddy, it’s broad daylight, and downtown is mobbed. Totally safe. Right, Posey?”

“True enough,” she said, earning a smile from the girl. Tanner wisely stayed silent.

Liam cut his eyes to Posey’s. She smiled. He didn’t. A little chilly, those eyes. Then he looked back at his daughter. “Fifteen minutes. And bear in mind that I can see halfway around the block from here, and yes, I will be watching. Got it, son?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Murphy. Fifteen minutes.” Tanner practically knocked his chair over, he got up so fast.

“I’ll be watching,” Liam repeated.