I start to leave, but then I stop and turn around.

“If Bran is a
golden retriever, what’s Megan?”

Ellen looks up from the dishes with a smile. “She’s a beautiful

stained glass lamp.”

Note to self: never ask Ellen for advice. Just 'cause she's old
doesn't mean she knows anything. Or make any kind of sense.

Luke is leaning against my car with damp hair and a smug look.
“Nineteen minutes and twenty-two seconds!” he calls out to me as
I approach with my keys in my hand.

I compress my lips into a thin line as I look him over. “You’re not
ready.”

He’s wearing a gray plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his
elbows and gray Cargo shorts. He is utterly recognizable, from his
vivid gold-flecked emerald eyes to his tight award-winning ass.

“What are you talking about?” Luke asks, looking down at

himself. “I’m fully dressed, aren’t I?”

I shake my head impatiently. “You can’t go out looking like

yourself. Someone will definitely recognize you—especially where
we’re going. If that happens, there goes your peaceful vacation.
You know this, Luke.”

Luke glares at the ground, muttering under his breath. “Alright,”

he grumbles, his brow furrowing. “If I put on my cap and
sunglasses will you wait for me?”
 He looks so exasperated that I just nod instead of giving him a
hard time. Ten minutes later, he comes out of the guest house
wearing his Yankees cap and his dark Oakley shades. He looks
exactly like Lucas Greyson trying to go unnoticed.

It’s eerily quiet in the car. I don’t think I’m imagining the
mounting tension between Luke and me. Maybe most of it is my
fault, but he’s being weird, too. I feel like I should walk carefully
around him. Like the air between us is loaded and full of
electricity, the way it is before a storm. I certainly wouldn’t feel
comfortable punching him, or smashing a plate of chicken
parmesan over his head (long story) now. Who knows how he
would react?

Megan is waiting out on the curb. When she sees Luke in the car,
her eyes grow huge. Before he can get out and offer her the
passenger seat, she jumps in the back.

“Nice disguise,” she says with a laugh when he turns around in

his seat to greet her.

“Well, you know,” Luke replies with a shrug and a charming

smile. I gun the engine.

“Where am I going?” I cut in harshly.

“To Barb’s. Do you remember where she lives? She was our
Sunday school teacher when we were going to First Baptist.”

Luke turns to me in surprise. “You went to Sunday school?”

 I ignore him. “Your mom’s friend—the one with the mole on her
forehead? I don’t have any idea where she lives.”

Megan gives me directions. Barb lives near our old high school,
so I’m familiar with the area. Megan seems to feel less intimidated
today. She jokes and laughs with Luke the whole ride there. Their
easy banter hurts my teeth, and I’m sad that I can’t tell them to
shut the hell up without looking like a jealous bitch. Megan’s light
flowery perfume fills the interior of the car, and I wonder if Luke
likes it. I don’t wear perfume, so I don’t know what I smell like.
I’ve been told that my hair carries the scent of waffle cones. I do
spend a lot of time in ice cream shops.

Both Megan and Luke are cracking up over Megan accidentally

referring to him as “Sam Langelier.” I don’t see what’s so funny
about that. I get out of my car and stand on the sidewalk, waiting
for the hilarity to stop.

I look at the red brick house with recognition. I remember

coming here with Aunt Susan and Megan. Barb always caught me
hiding in the bathroom during Sunday school. And she had a huge
Maine Coon that used to sit on my feet, and moo at me. She once
called me a “bad seed,” which she later apologized for. I think I
named her mole Sidney.

Barb looks exactly the same, if maybe a little thicker around the
middle. She welcomes Megan with a hug, and pats my arm
affectionately. She remembers me! I introduce Luke as my
boyfriend, Jimmy Bob. Luke easily slips into a redneck accent, I
assume just for the hell of it. His sunglasses are off, but Barb
doesn’t seem to recognize him.

“Alrighty, Megan,” Barb announces, coming back into the room

with the wedding dress. “Why don’t you try this on, and we’ll see if
we need to make any alterations? Your mom was actually a size
bigger than you, which is a lucky thing if you’ve gained any
weight.”

“You’re wearing your mom’s old wedding dress?” I ask Megan.

Megan climbs to her feet and awkwardly takes the dress. “Yeah,”
she says, glancing over at me. “We thought it would be easier,
since we’re in such a rush. Besides, I really wanted to…”

She trails off, quickly looking away. “That’s nice,” I say quietly.

Megan turns back to me with a smile. Her hazel eyes are bright
with the sheen of unshed tears. She disappears down the hallway
to get changed.

There’s a dry lump in my throat, and my nose suddenly feels

clogged. I stare down at the huge gray cat lying on its back at my
feet. It moos at me, and gently bites my ankle. I feel a nudge in my
side.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke asks in a low voice. His eyes are filled
with concern as he examines my face.

I clear my throat to make sure my voice will come out steady.

“I’m fine,” I answer. “I think I might be allergic to cats.”
 We’re sitting together on the couch with the lines of our bodies
touching, from our shoulders to our knees. I look up to find Barb
smiling down at us with a dopey look in her eye.

“You know, I’ve always told Gordie that I thought you and Megan
were the most beautiful girls in town,” she says, brushing a hand
over her short sandy hair. “Those Kelly girls, I used to call you.
Now Megan’s going to be married in a few short weeks—and a
mother soon! And what about you, Miss Andi? Will it be your turn
coming up soon?”

She waggles her eyebrows playfully at us. Luke and I glance at

each other. He looks amused; I am appalled. Fortunately, Megan
comes back into the room, and everyone’s attention turns to her.

The creamy white dress is simply lovely. It’s strapless, the lace
bodice hugging her torso, and exposing the long lines of her neck
and slim shoulders. The fabric flows faithfully down the rest of her
body, showing off her perfect figure—and just a hint of a bump in
her midsection. If it weren’t for her boobs overflowing on top, she
would look the picture of elegance.

Megan holds herself self-consciously, discreetly trying to tug the

bodice up. “What do you guys think?” she asks nervously.

“You’re stunning,” Luke says warmly, keeping his eyes firmly on

her blushing face.

“Thanks…”

“Yeah, you look really nice,” I add lamely. I’m not good at
compliments if I really mean them. When I’m lying, I’m totally
eloquent. Am I getting sentimental over Megan in a wedding
dress? Never.

“Well, definitely we have to cover the bust,” Barb says,

appraising her with an expert eye. She reaches out and tugs at the
material over her stomach. “Given your build, I don’t think you’ll
get much bigger here before the wedding—but even if you do,
you’ll have a little give. Yes, I think we’ll be fine.”

She continues to mumble to herself, circling Megan and pulling

at the fabric here and there. Megan stands there patiently while
making funny faces at me. I suddenly have a flashback of us
sitting on this very couch while Barb gushed to Aunt Susan about
how beautiful her girls were. We learned how to sign the alphabet
so we could silently communicate to each other when the occasion
called for it. I remember Megan signing to me that I was going to
end up marrying Barb’s cat, Gordie, and I replied that she would
end up with Barb’s mole.

“Andie, can you take a pic and send it to Mom?” Megan asks me,
tossing back her shiny hair. “She really wanted to know how the
dress would fit today.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I snap a picture and text it to Aunt Susan. Megan smiles her

thanks, then hurries off to change. Barb and Luke make small talk
about Gordie, leaving me to fester in peace. I don’t want to be here
anymore. And by “here” I mean Sea Wind. I want to go home, and
be away from all these people with their overflowing boobs, and
the memories, and—and...ugh. All this blondeness—it’s driving
me a little crazy. Yeah, there are tons of blondes in L.A., but
they’re not in my face, tossing their commercial-worthy hair, and
marrying my ex-boyfriend. Or sitting so close to me, all warm and
gorgeous, and rugged.

What’s wrong with me? It’s the cat. It’s cutting off my circulation
and molesting my ankles. If it puts its sandpaper tongue anywhere
higher than my knees, I’m going to kick it.

I’m feeling very claustrophobic and sweaty right now. I need a

drink. I need to go. I stand up abruptly. Gordie yowls and flops
fatly over on its side. I don’t care. Luke takes my cold clammy
hand in his strong warm one, steadying me. I take a deep breath.

Megan comes out, dressed in her normal clothes. We say our

goodbyes and escape to the car. I grip the steering wheel like it’s
my lifeline, while calmly discussing our options for dress
shopping. Sea Wind has two shopping malls, and they’re both
crappy. There are a few boutiques downtown that we could try,
but they’re all crazy expensive, and the selections are kind of iffy
from what Megan remembers. Luke wants to make a phone call
and have a dress specially made for me by a designer friend of his.
That’s not going to happen.

We decide to drive to the outlet stores in Haver, a couple of

hours away. Megan is excited, but I think that’s mostly due to the
fact that she gets to spend more time in close quarters with Luke.
She chatters happily away at him, and he doesn’t seem to mind
one bit. I interrupt once to ask where Bran is. Megan tells me he
has a doctor’s appointment, and then he has to run over to Eugene
to get some stuff out of their storage unit. I feel a tiny twinge of
sympathy for him that he has to do all that driving with a broken
leg. What an idiot, though. I don’t know why he doesn’t ask for
help from his friends or family. He has plenty of both.

Almost halfway to the outlet stores, Megan starts to feel sick. I

have to pull over so she can puke. We stop at a convenience store
where Luke runs in to get her a Sprite and a bag of sourdough
pretzels—apparently her go-to food when she’s nauseous. It takes
him several minutes because someone recognizes him. Of course
he poses for a few pictures, and signs some autographs like a good
celebrity.

We have to stop one more time before her stomach settles down.
Afterwards, she lies down in the backseat for a nap, probably
more from mortification than exhaustion. I haven’t asked her
anything about the baby. Does she know what she’s having, or is it
too soon to tell? Back in high school, she used to say that she
wanted a boy so she can name him Samuel Lucas, in honor of
Luke and his My Soul for You character. I wonder if this is still the
case, and I wonder if I should bring it up in front of Luke to
embarrass her. Nah, that will just give him an excuse to flirt with
her.

Once Megan is asleep, Luke drops the charm and the smiles.
Guess he doesn’t want to waste it on me. He stays quiet, and I can
tell something is bothering him by the frown line he gets between
his eyebrows when he’s brooding.

My phone rings, and I answer it quickly before Luke can snatch it

away from me. You think I’m a bad driver now—I’m downright
scary when I’m eating or talking. But it’s Nate, and he’s always fun
to talk to so I greet him enthusiastically.

“Watch the road!” Luke shouts in a panicked voice as I start to

drift to the other side. I swerve back to my lane.

“Was that Luke screaming like a girl?” Nate laughs into my ear.
“Are you driving?”

“Yes to both,” I reply. “So, how are things with the reality
princess?”

“Luke told you about her, huh? Turns out she’s not a princess at
all.” Nate sighs. I can just see him shaking his head. “I thought she
didn’t speak much English ‘cause she was foreign, right? Turns
out she’s born and raised in Palm Beach. Her inarticulateness was
so cute when I thought English wasn't her first language."

“Well, you don’t date a girl for her conversational skills,” I point
out.

“True. So, when are you guys flying up? I’m bored as hell,” he
complains. “Eyan and Rob are such pussies. I haven’t almost bled
to death once since Luke left.”

I laugh at that. “Yeah, well—”

“Andi—the van!” Luke interrupts. I immediately slow down, but

Luke continues to glare at me. “Is that Nate you’re talking to? Put
him on speaker phone.”
 I make a face, but comply, sticking my phone between our seats.
“You’re on speakerphone,” I warn Nate. “But don’t be too loud
because my cousin is sleeping in the backseat.”

“The one who’s getting married?” Nate asks loudly. “Is she hot?”

“Andi has to go now,” Luke announces. “She’ll call you later.”

“Aw, dude, don’t be like that! It’s been forever since I heard your
voice. Talk to me! I miss you, man. I miss your big beautiful bank
account.”

“Blow it out your ass, Vlacic.” Luke smirks. “You’re distracting

Andi while she’s supposed to be concentrating on the road.”

“I’m not distracted,” I say, offended.

“I’m not kidding, man,” Luke says to Nate, ignoring me. “If I die
right now because of you, I’m haunting your ass.” It’s funny how
he doesn’t blame me for my bad driving.

Nate chuckles cheerfully. “It’s because she’s picturing me naked.

Right, Andi?”

“Good bye, Nate,” I reply, going for my phone.

“Wait! Luke, dude—listen. Remember what I said last night!

Don’t get impatient and blow it. You know what I’m talking
about.”

Blow what? Luke just rolls his eyes. “Bye, Nate.”

 “I’m serious! Oh, and Andi? Keep your legs crossed for as long as
you—”

Luke quickly reaches over and ends the call. He laughs to

himself, shaking his head.

“What was that about?” I ask suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Luke mutters evasively. “Nate’s just being a

dumbass.”

Fine. I probably don’t want to know, anyway. Luke goes back to

being pensive. We make occasional comments to each other, but
mostly he’s busy doing stuff on his phone. Megan stays asleep
until I accidentally run over a curb, causing her to tumble off the
backseat.

“What happened? What was that?!” she gasps, popping back up.

“Nothing,” I say. “We’re here.”

It takes me a while to find a parking spot. Of course it’s crowded

—it always is, especially during the summer. Yeah, bringing Luke
here is a great idea. I wish he wasn’t so stubborn about his
prosthetic disguise. I understand that he just wants to be himself
every once in a while, but it’s so inconvenient. I just know he’s
going to get recognized.

Guess what? I’m right. We’re in a store for a few minutes when I
notice a couple of women surreptitiously staring at him. I can tell
that they’re wondering if it’s really him, and that they’re trying to
work up the nerve to approach. I hustle him and Megan out of the
store before they can get too close.

But then it happens again when we’re having lunch in the food
court. And again. And again. At first, it’s not too bad. The people
who first come up to him are respectful, and tentatively ask for
pictures with him. Luke never turns away his fans, so he poses for
all the cameras and signs autographs, chatting with everyone and
letting them hug him. But then word spreads, and a crowd starts
building around him. When the hysterical teenage girls start
flocking to the scene, I know we’re in trouble.

Usually Micah and Nate, or some of his other buff friends are
there to help with crowd control. But it’s just the three of us, and
it looks like I have to earn my keep. See, someone has to be the
bitch, and it can’t be the celebrity. It’s okay. I have no problem
yelling at people that they get one picture each—and no
autographs! It actually works for a while! I can sound pretty
authoritative when I want to. But then a large group of glittery
girls show up, and start screaming and shouting, trying to push
through the people in front of them. Chaos ensues.

Megan reacts like a deer caught in the headlights. People assume

that she’s Luke’s girlfriend, and start taking her picture, too.
When the crowd starts getting pushy, he immediately tries to
shield her.

“Watch it!” I elbow an Amazon of a woman back when she jostles

Megan to get to Luke. “She’s pregnant!”
 Amazon lady’s eyes widen. “Really?!” she exclaims. “Is she his
girlfriend? Oh, my god! Lucas’ girlfriend is pregnant!”

She says this so loud. The news spreads like wildfire. “Oh, no,” I
mumble.

“What?” Luke says, sounding confused as hell when people start

shouting congratulations at him.

I grab him and Megan, and hustle them both into the nearest
store. We duck into the employees only in the back, and when the
sales staff descends upon us I quickly explain the situation. They
agree to contact security for us, and help keep people away. We’re
safe for now. Micah would be proud of me.

“Why do those people think Megan is having my baby?” Luke

asks me while we’re hanging out in a storage room.

I avoid meeting his eyes. “Um.”

Megan is sitting on a chair, arms crossed protectively over her

stomach. I’m slightly worried that she’s going to hyperventilate.
“That was insane,” she says weakly, shaking her head.

I bite my lip. “Do you think we should call Ivan, or Jessica?”

Luke takes his cap off, threading his hands through his hair, then
locking his hands behind his head. He exhales softly. “No,” he says
finally. “There are always rumors out there about someone having
my lovechild. If it gets out of hand and Megan gets identified, then
Jessica will release a statement.”
 Megan looks startled. “People will think I’m your girlfriend,” she
says in shocked tones.

I don’t know why she’s looking at me so guiltily. Then I

remember that I’m supposed to be Luke’s girlfriend. Oh, yeah. I
try to look depressed.

“Sorry about this, Megan.” Luke looks at her, stricken. “I

shouldn’t have come with you guys—I should have known better.”

“Oh—no! It’s not your fault,” Megan is quick to say. Her eyes
widen with sincerity. “You should be able to go wherever you
want.”