No More Pretending Read online

  In a flash of inspiration, she realized that she could invite Lauren out to a picnic. That way she could still cook, but she wouldn’t have to worry about all the stress associated with having Lauren over.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said, walking into the kitchen at home.

  “Where have you been young lady?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek, scraping eggs onto his plate.

  “I stayed at Lauren’s place. It was too miserable out to get back.”

  “I gathered. Am I going to get to meet this new gal of yours?”

  “Dad, she’s just a friend.”

  “Oh, right. Whatever you say.”

  He sat down at the kitchen table and started shoveling eggs into his mouth. His red-rimmed eyes made Harper wonder when he’d gotten to bed the night before. When he picked up his coffee mug, Harper could smell the whiskey in it even from where she was sitting.

  “This so-called friend of yours, maybe I could meet her sometime?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’ll invite her around when you finally shave, how does that sound?” Harper said.

  He rubbed his stubble and narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t try to change the subject, girly. How’d you like it if I told you when to shave your legs?”

  “I take your point. As for Lauren coming over, we’ll see.”

  Harper rose and started to clean up the pile of dishes sitting by the sink. She had no intention of changing her mind, not with her dad making insinuations. Once he got something into his head, it was impossible to convince him of the truth.

  Lauren was delivering Chester to her when Harper asked her on the picnic. Lauren hesitated at first, then seemed to change her mind and gave Harper a satisfyingly firm yes. Harper suggested they go for a drive to a place just out of town. There was a beautiful spot by the lake that was perfect, a clearing that Harper went to sometimes to read and take time out for herself. No matter what was going on in her life, she always felt better when she came back from there.

  When the weekend arrived, Harper packed a basket full of cucumber sandwiches, a salad, fruit, iced tea, beer and an apple pie that she’d baked. Mother Nature co-operated by giving them perfect weather to enjoy. It was sunny, but not too hot. As Harper drove them, she looked over and saw Lauren gazing out the window at the passing trees, a secret smile on her lips. This place was special, especially when you were used to being in New York, where scenes like these were hard to come by.

  They laid out a blanket and sat looking out over the lake. Chester chased birds around the water’s edge. Harper had brought a portable CD player, and Billie Holiday sang a slow, lazy tune in the background.

  “I am so relaxed right now,” Lauren said, sighing. “Sometimes I think I could live in this town. It’s so quiet, like everything’s slowed down.”

  “You wouldn’t miss the Big Apple?” Harper teased. “I know I did, when I moved back here.”

  “Of course I would. I can’t believe you used to live there. I wonder if we ever passed one another in the street. Or if we were at Manny’s on the same nights. Wouldn’t it be funny if we were?”

  “I think I’d remember you,” Harper said, the words slipping from her lips before she had a chance to think about them. It sounded embarrassingly suggestive. Harper avoided Lauren’s eyes, glancing down at her legs instead. They were perfectly toned and smooth. Lauren had shown up for the picnic in a casual summer dress, looking so cute it gave Harper butterflies.

  “If you missed it, does that mean you didn’t really want to come back to Texas?” Lauren finally asked.

  “Not really.” Harper fiddled with a piece of grass, wondering how much to share. She got the sense Lauren had picked up on her vagueness, and was aware that she had been evasive when they spoke about this before. After considering it for a few moments, she was sure that she didn’t have to worry about talking to Lauren. Although they had only just started to get to know one another, it was obvious that Lauren was a sensitive person.

  “I came back because my mom got diagnosed with cancer. We really thought she was going to get better—hoped so anyway. She died a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What was she like?”

  “She was great. I mean, we had our differences but she was a great mom and we were close. We got even closer before the end.”

  “That all must have been so hard, on the whole family.”

  “It was. Tommy’s still so young, and Dad kind of lost it. He started drinking, stopped working. That’s why I’ve stayed. It feels like everyone’s still stuck back there, like everyone’s scared that if we move on it’ll mean we have to deal with her really being gone. Everyone’s done their best I guess, but I’ve had to take a lot on.”

  Lauren scooted closer to her and took Harper’s hand in her own. They stared out at the water with their fingers laced together. There was nothing that Harper wanted Lauren to say, because she could feel how much she cared.

  “It’s funny, everyone in town knew her,” Harper continued. “They all brought meals and stuff to the house after, and I don’t think there’s anyone in the community who didn’t come to her funeral.”

  “It sounds like everyone loved her.”

  “They did, but that’s not what I meant. I think this is the first time I’ve told anyone about it since she died. Everyone already knows. This is new for me. Do you know what I mean?”

  Lauren squeezed her hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

  They were talking about the saddest memories of her life, but some of the pain fell away in the wake of Lauren’s touch. The hurt would never leave her, but with the passage of time it had dulled to a manageable ache. With the feel of Lauren’s skin against her own, she had the sensation more than ever that everything was going to be okay. There was a solidity to Lauren, a presence that reassured Harper that she wasn’t alone in the world.

  “I know that we don’t know one another very well, but I’m really glad we met,” Harper said, opening her eyes. Lauren was looking at her mouth, and she could swear that she could feel Lauren’s fingers trembling where they were joined.

  “I am too,” Lauren replied.

  To Harper it looked like she was trying to compose her thoughts, like words were being shaped in her mouth and then discarded. Harper wished she could lean over and kiss that mouth, to fully take comfort from Lauren in the way that she wanted. She felt consumed by phantom sensations, sure of how soft and warm Lauren’s lips must be. At that moment, Chester ran up and jumped onto her lap. Harper’s hand was empty now, so she closed her fingers and put her hand in her lap. She watched Lauren ruffle Chester’s fur, feeling like she had dodged a bullet because she hadn’t given into her impulses.

  “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it, especially after you’ve just told me what you’ve been through, but it’s really hard to meet genuine people when you’re in my position, you know?” Lauren said, scratching under Chester’s chin. Harper watched the movement of her fingers. She wished she could pull the hand away, and bring it toward her.

  “No, come on. I don’t think like that. That actually sounds really lonely.”

  “It is. But it’s been so great finding someone I can talk to.”

  There was a long pause, but Harper could see that Lauren wanted to say more, so she stayed quiet. It made her feel guilty that she had been sitting here thinking sexual thoughts when Lauren was talking about how important their friendship was to her. Harper knew that if she tried hard enough, she could hold both things inside of her at once. She could balance friendship and longing. Harper just needed to learn how to compartmentalize and to separate Lauren the friend from Lauren the woman she was starting to really want.

  “Will you keep in touch with me when I’m gone?” Lauren continued. “I meet so many different people through work, and we always say we’re going to see one another again, but we don’t. We get close for a couple of months and then they just become an acquaintance, someone I see at events
and used to know. I would hate for that to happen to us.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so much at one time before. Anyways, I don’t think I’m going to see you at the Oscars any time soon, so that definitely won’t happen with us,” Harper joked, pushing at Lauren with her elbow.

  Lauren looked sideways at her, rolling her eyes and smiling in that dry way she had sometimes. “You know what I mean.”

  “Of course we can stay in touch. Maybe I can even visit you sometime. I never get back to the city anymore, even though I still have friends and my uncle there. It could give me a good excuse to actually go.”

  Lauren sounded earnest about staying in touch, but Harper wondered how much she would follow through. Lauren seemed unhappy with her life as it usually was now, but surely she would feel differently when she went back to New York. Harper had lived there herself, and she knew how quickly she had become accustomed to life there and how much it had started to feel like a chore to come back to this little place and visit. Harper was sure she was boring in comparison to Lauren’s New York friends.

  Then Lauren turned to her with such an expression of happiness and hope that Harper wondered if she was being unfair when she doubted her. “Would you really? I’d love to spend time in the city with you. I have a guest room in my apartment. You could stay as often as you wanted.”

  “I’d really like that,” Harper said. She hadn’t realized that Lauren considered her a good enough friend to invite to come to stay at her home, and the thought warmed her all over. “We could go to Manny’s.”

  “Manny’s is really all you care about, isn’t it?” Lauren said, grinning slyly at her.

  “Well, yes. I can’t really get good pizza around here, you know.”

  “Then it’s settled. You must come to New York on the pretext of seeing me, but mainly so that you can have some decent pie.”

  Harper laughed, lying back on the picnic blanket. The combination of the beer and the sun was making her sleepy. She looked up at the sky and watched the clouds blowing across it while Lauren settled down next to her. Chester came and curled up at her side. Lauren began patting him, her fingers accidentally brushing against Harper’s arm. It made Harper shiver.

  The thought of their friendship continuing when Lauren went home made her feel good, but she still wished things would never change. If she could spend every Saturday in this exact same way, she would be so happy.

  Chapter Ten

  They went to the lake the following weekend, and again the next. Lauren picked Harper up in the morning, and they drove out there to stay until sundown. Each time they spent the whole day talking, leaving their neglected newspapers and books spread out in front of them. The two of them took turns putting together picnic provisions, bringing leftovers or cooking for one another. Sometimes they would throw a Frisbee or ball for Chester to catch, and other times they would take him for long walks around the lake’s edge.

  During the second weekend, Lauren surprised Harper by following Chester right into the water. He had been chasing a ball close to the edge, then buoyed his strength and bounded in after it. Lauren didn’t hesitate; she just waded right in to the dirty water like it was no big deal. When she walked out, she was soaked up to her waist. Harper had been laughing, but when Lauren came out with her shorts clinging to her skin Harper pretended to be engrossed in her book. Lauren sat on the bank in the sun to get dry and Chester sat beside her, shaking himself furiously.

  After some time passed, Lauren came back to join Harper on the blanket. They lay on their backs, staring up at the sky. Harper was eating from a bag of chocolate-covered peanuts, and she held out the bag to Lauren, who took some and thanked her. They lay in companionable silence for a while.

  “You know all about my family, but you’ve never told me about yours. I don’t even know where you grew up. Do you see your parents much?” Harper asked. In her quiet way, Lauren was the sort of person who asked a lot of questions. Now that Harper thought about it, she realized it had been a very effective tactic at distracting her from asking much in return. When she did ask questions, Lauren usually found clever ways to deflect them and to turn the conversation toward other things.

  Lauren looked down at her hands and rubbed at her palm with her thumb.

  “You don’t like talking about yourself too much, do you?” Harper asked.

  Lauren shook her head.

  “That’s got to be hard. You must get asked a lot of questions in your line of work.”

  “I do. I’ve tried to keep my family life to myself but sometimes it feels like nobody cares about my privacy. I’ve forfeited my right to it, like if I wanted to get famous I should just suck it up.”

  “That’s so unfair.”

  “I keep waiting for it to all come out. Like, some cousin is going to cash in and write a book or something.”

  “People are the worst. I respect why you’d want to keep stuff to yourself. I hope you know though, that I don’t have an agenda here. I just want to get to know you better. If you want to tell me anything I’ll listen, but whatever you say stays with me.”

  Lauren hugged her arms around herself. “I think I’ve known that for a while. Okay. I don’t actually know where my parents are. They’ve never been around much.”

  “Did they raise you?”

  “Sometimes. They were always splitting up and then getting back together, using me as a pawn when it suited them.”

  “Whom did you live with, then?”

  “Whoever would have me—aunts, grandparents, friends. I’d just get settled, then one or the other of them would say they wanted me back. I’d have to go live in whatever dump they were staying at. They were really dysfunctional people, emotionally abusive, couldn’t hold on to a cent. I had to grow up fast. It was all pretty bad.”

  “Do you mind if I tell you I really admire you for coming through all that?”

  Harper put an arm under Lauren’s neck, around her shoulder, and pulled her close. Soon she was lying with her head resting on Harper’s chest, while Harper kept an arm about her. Lauren closed her eyes, resting an arm across Harper’s waist.

  “I know I’m a cliché, rags to riches and all that,” Lauren said. “When it all comes out they’ll make a great TV movie about me.”

  “I would never think of it that way. I think you’re amazing,” Harper replied. Lauren’s self-consciousness was evident. Harper hoped she didn’t regret opening up like this. Harper wanted to say so much more, but it would be wrong to put her feelings on Lauren right now, when she was so vulnerable. If Lauren missed having a close family, Harper wanted to offer to help fill that gap as much as she could. She could give Lauren whatever love she had missed out on, even if it were only as a friend.

  “We’re a sorry pair though, aren’t we?” Harper asked.

  “Everyone’s got scars, I guess,” Lauren said.

  “Well, I like your scars.”

  Harper could only lie there for another minute or two before she had to move. She was becoming afraid that she was going to do something impulsive and stupid otherwise.

  The next weekend at the lake, they had sandwiches, then Lauren reluctantly suggested they do some work. Since they had started hanging out more often, Harper had offered to help Lauren with her lines. Lauren was meticulous when it came to having them committed to memory, even though Sal was probably going to rewrite them. By now Harper was almost as familiar with the ever-changing script as Lauren was. At first, Harper had been self-conscious about saying lines from the script, but after a while she slipped into a variety of roles, including Lauren’s character’s mother and best friend. She didn’t try to act, just read the lines and watched Lauren work. Sometimes she’d give Lauren tips on how to sound more authentically Southern. Harper liked to do it and Lauren had told her a million times how much it was helping her.

  On the way out in the car, Lauren had been complaining about how she didn’t feel challenged or excited by the scene that was coming up on Monday
at all. She said it was an important scene for her character but that it bored her. When Harper asked for more information she had said that it was an important scene for her and Josh. It had been on the tip of Harper’s tongue to ask whether the reluctance was about her past relationship with the leading man. Whenever the subject of Josh came up, Lauren always seemed indifferent. Harper wondered whether she truly didn’t care or if she was just faking it because it was too painful.

  Lauren pulled a face as she handed over the pages. “It’s cheesy, I’m warning you.”

  “Are there any scenes in this movie that aren’t cheesy?” Harper joked, looking over the script.

  All it took was a glance for her to see that this was going to get weird for her. Words like “love” and “feelings” and “need” stood out on the page. Harper felt her face becoming hot. She had read Josh’s lines before and found it funny to imitate his flat way of speaking, but she didn’t think that would work so well this time. This conversation was more emotional, more overtly romantic than anything they had done before.

  Harper didn’t want to do it, but it would look strange if she refused to help now. She had to go ahead with it and try to not think about the words that were coming out of her mouth.

  They began and Harper worked her way through it, line by stilted line. “If I stay here, you know what’s going to happen between us.”

  “You shouldn’t talk like that. Anyway, I don’t think I understand what you mean,” Lauren said.

  “I think you do know. You’ve known it from the moment we met. You need me, like I need you.”

  “I’m afraid. Afraid of how I feel, afraid of what this all means. Don’t you see that?”