How Hard Can It Be (Handcuffs and Happily Ever Afters) Page 13

  “Rena, you look gorgeous.” Mom grinned and raised her eyebrows, waggling them suggestively. Shit, this was going to be more painful than I’d thought. “Your boyfriend is lovely. I hope you don’t mind me inviting him to dinner.” She gave me her pouty face, daring me to answer her truthfully.

  “Um, no. That’s okay,” I muttered, looking for some food to shove in my mouth to avoid having to speak. “He’s not here yet, is he?” I grabbed the side of the granite kitchen countertop in alarm. God, the things my family could tell him, without my running interference, made me shudder.

  “No, sweetie pie, he’s not. I thought you would arrive together.” She waited for a response. I decided not to give her one.

  “Rena,” Aunt Phyllis yelled from the great room, “did you and Jack get back together?”

  “Why am I the last to hear about these things?” Mom huffed, giving me that look. The one that implies I’ve wounded her mortally and she will never recover. It used to work when I was little, but by the time high school rolled around, I had her number. Now it just makes me feel itchy.

  “We’re fine,” I said loudly enough for Aunt Phyllis to hear. I searched the counter for food. Nothing. What in the hell was going on? Mom usually laid out enough to feed and kill an army. Normally I avoid the Crock-Pot dips, but tonight I’d wolf one in its entirety to get out of conversing. “Where’s all the food?”

  “It’s in the dining room, I thought we’d be a little fancier tonight.” She chuckled like she’d made a good one. Thank Jesus I didn’t get my sense of humor or irony from her.

  “Are Jenny and Dirk here?” I asked, hoping my sister was too bloated or her roots were too heinous for her to come this evening.

  “Oh yes, sweetie. They’ve been here for an hour. They don’t want to miss a minute of you and your new beau.”

  “I bet they don’t.” I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and slammed it shut. I shouldn’t have come. I should have waited outside for Jack, told him my family had leprosy, and sent him on his merry way. After I boinked him in my new car.

  “Oh, honey bunch, you’re not going to drink, are you?” Mom’s hands fluttered nervously as she wiped down the spotless countertop with an oven mitt.

  “Why?” I narrowed my eyes and waited for her frightening logic.

  “Well, um, you’re a bit of a lightweight . . .”

  “And?” I dared her to continue, knowing what was coming.

  “There was that time you drank a little teensy-weensy bit too much and decided streaking would be a good idea.”

  “Mom,” I ground out between clenched teeth, “that was my twenty-first birthday. I found my college roommate in bed with my boyfriend, and I didn’t get into my first choice for graduate school. Suffice it to say, that was a really bad day. Not to mention, it was almost ten years ago.”

  She brought up the streaking incident every time I took a sip of alcohol. I did understand that some of my past choices had been creative, but having to live them down for an eternity was not fair. I smiled, took a huge swig of beer, and left the kitchen. There was only so much a girl could take . . . and it was only six-thirty. Shit.

  The kitchen opened into the great room, which opened into the dining room. Basically, the first floor was a wide-open space with a few half walls and a couple of load-bearing ones. It’s beautiful, cozy, and warm. Unless my sister is inhabiting some of the space.

  Aunt Phyllis and Dad were by the huge flagstone fireplace in the middle of an intense game of dominos. They took their gaming seriously. It’s the only time my dad can tolerate Aunt Phyllis. She rarely brings up aliens when she’s concentrating on kicking my dad’s ass. The dominos would lead to chess and chess would degenerate into what I like to refer to as Profane Poker. It’s no wonder I have a mouth like I do . . . For God-fearing Lutherans, my family can swear up a shit storm.

  Interrupting their game could result in loss of body parts, so that left my sister to talk to. Crap.

  “Hi Rena,” Jenny smirked, rubbing her belly while shoving some kind of cheese dip into her piehole. There was a little of it on her chin. Should I tell her? Hmmm.

  “Hi Jenny, you look lovely tonight.” I smiled, hoping the cheese hardened and stayed there forever.

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “What’s on my face?” she demanded.

  Damn it, I shouldn’t have complimented her. It was a dead giveaway that something was off. I decided to be nice; maybe she’d cut me some slack when Jack got here. “Cheese on your chin.”

  She went to wipe it off.

  “Your other one.” I couldn’t help myself, it was just too easy.

  “Oh my God, you’re such a butthole. I can’t wait till you get pregnant. I will give you hell every day,” she hissed.

  “How will that be different from any other day?” I had a point. Yes, I was a bitch to her, but she usually started it and gave it back ten times worse.

  “Oh shut up.” Her mouth pulled into a sour grin. “Dirk, will you get me an apple juice? Now.”

  I hadn’t even realized Dirk was in the room. If you weren’t careful you could sit on him by accident. He was that quiet and that unobtrusive. I wondered how he stayed married to my sister, but some guys like girls who boss them around. Shoshanna made a living writing about girls dominating guys. Of course those gals use whips and butt plugs, but the basic principle is the same.

  Dirk ran from the room like there was a fire. “Wow, that seems like a healthy relationship.” I plopped down on the chair, grinning at my evil sister.

  “What in the hell would you know about relationships?” she snapped. “You can’t keep a boyfriend more than two weeks.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” I raised my eyebrow in preparation for the kill. “At least I’ve had boyfriends. You married the first person to ask you out on a date. Oh, wait a minute”—I slapped myself on the forehead—“he didn’t ask you out, you asked him. Sorry, I always get that part mixed up.”

  “No problem,” she sneered, “at least he doesn’t have a rap sheet.”

  I couldn’t be sure if she was talking about me or one of my former boyfriends. Either way, the shoe fit. Damn, we’re a loving family.

  “So, your boyfriend Jack, I hear he’s a cop.” She’d run out of crackers, so she scooped her finger into the cheese dip and stuck it in her mouth. God, that was disgusting. “I didn’t think you went for law-abiding citizens.”

  “I didn’t think you went for manners,” I shot back, realizing my comeback didn’t quite make sense, but I seem to have made my point. Jenny turned a fabulous shade of crimson and placed her cheesy fingers in her lap.

  “You said he was in communications. Can’t you keep your boyfriends straight?” She smiled and I squirmed. Why couldn’t I have a nice sister? Or maybe the question should be, why couldn’t she?

  “He is,” I mumbled. “He’s a cop communicator.” Shit, that was lame.

  “Interesting.” She rolled her eyes. I could see her doctor brain working. It was probably a good time for me to lose an arm by interrupting my dad and aunt. “So,” she continued, enjoying herself, “his last name isn’t Snuffleupagus. What is his last name?”

  Why in the hell would she ask me the one question I couldn’t make up a lie for? “Why does his last name matter?” I tried to turn the tables.

  “I don’t know, I just want to hear you say it.” She was barely able to keep the laughter out of her voice. What did she know that I didn’t? My stomach started to churn. Instead of answering her, I put my entire hand in the cheese dip and shoved it into my mouth. “Oh my God,” she shrieked, “that’s gross.”

  “You should know,” I said with a mouthful of dip. “Excuse me, I need a cracker.”

  I ran to the kitchen, washed off my hand, and chugged a glass of water. I hate cheese dip. My heart was bouncing in my chest like a Mexican jumping bean. Jenny knew something that I didn’t. She knew Jack’s last name. It must be bad. Crap. How bad could it be? I paced the kitchen and stayed clo
se to the front door. I needed to be the one who let Jack in. I needed to tell him about the communications angle and I sure as hell needed to find out his last name.

  “Doorbell,” Mom shouted.

  “I’ll get it,” I screeched, running like an Olympic sprinter. “Nobody else move.”

  Skidding to a halt, I smoothed my sweater, shook my hair so it fell wildly around my face, pinched my cheeks for some color, yanked the door open . . . and time stopped. My breath caught in my throat and my tummy tingled. Why couldn’t I ever remember how good-looking he was? He made khaki pants look hot. A long-sleeved blue polo hugged his muscular chest perfectly and his eyes appeared bluer, but the part that made me weak was the leather bomber. Knowing he was a cop who looked like a bad boy sent me over the edge.

  “Hi, Rena.” He smiled his oh-so-sexy smile and tried to step inside.

  I gracelessly shoved him out the front door and shut it behind me. I had no time to admire my fake boyfriend. I needed to get him up to speed and I needed to do it fast. An information quickie, if you will. “You’re a cop communicator. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but that’s what you are. We met at the library a week ago Thursday and you have no problem with the fact I’ve been arrested.” I paused to take a breath before I fainted. “Wait, do you have a problem with me getting arrested?”

  “Which time?” He grinned, backing me up against the solid oak door.

  God, he smelled good. “Either,” I said, putting my hands on his chest to keep him from getting any closer.

  “No, Rena, I have no problems.” He tried to swoop down for a kiss, but I wasn’t done yet.

  “Good. Now what in the hell is your last name?”

  “Snuffleupagus.”

  “No, it’s not,” I giggled. I liked watching his lips move.

  “Okay, you got me. It’s Sprat.”

  I had no idea why Jenny thought Sprat was so funny. Jack Sprat. Jack Sprat. What’s wrong with... “Oh my God. Really?” I gasped. Could his parents have been so cruel as to have named him after a nursery rhyme? Could I date a nursery rhyme?

  “No,” he chuckled, “not really.”

  I expelled a huge sigh of relief. “What is it?”

  “Careena. My name is Jack Careena.” He watched me for a reaction. I didn’t have one. I decided the pregnancy had eaten my sister’s brain. His name was fine. “Okay, whatever I say in there, just go with it.”

  “You got it, baby,” he laughed, “but the same goes for you.”

  The use of the word baby made my knees weak, I wondered if I had time to drag him to my new car and christen it. No, that could get awkward. My mom had seen me streak, but she’d never seen me do the nasty. Tonight didn’t seem like a good time to introduce that one.

  “My family is insane,” I warned him.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He grinned, grabbed my hand, and pulled me inside. The look on my sister’s face when she laid eyes on Jack would last me a lifetime. She was salivating and her voice stopped working. My mom was acting like a teenage idiot, and I’m fairly sure Aunt Phyllis grabbed his ass. My dad behaved normally, but the real shocker was Dirk. Apparently, Jack had been a legal expert in a trial Dirk had worked on. They both seemed to admire each other quite a bit. Who knew? I didn’t even think Dirk could speak. After some small talk, where I quashed any childhood story my mom or Aunt Phyllis tried to tell, we sat down to dinner. I still wasn’t sure I trusted Jack completely, but he was a huge hit with the family.

  “So Jack,” my Dad said, “where are you from originally?”

  “Madison, Wisconsin, sir.” Jack looked over and winked at me. I didn’t know if that meant he was lying or if he wanted to get in my pants.

  My dad’s face heated up to an unbecoming red. “I’m going to have to ask you something, son. It pains me to have to do this.”

  The entire dining room went silent, forks clattered to plates, and all eyes were wide. I had no idea where my dad was going with this, but it didn’t bode well. Jack’s body tensed, and he looked over at me. I shrugged and prayed to God my dad wasn’t going to ask Jack what his intentions were or heaven forbid, if we were sleeping together.

  “Are you a Packers or Vikings fan?” my dad asked very seriously. Oh, fuck. Jack’s answer would determine whether or not he would be welcome in my parents’ home again. I held my breath. If he gave the right answer, they’d expect me to marry him. If he gave the wrong one, they’d start forcing me to go to Lutheran Speed Dating. I didn’t know if I could marry someone I thought might secretly have plans to arrest me and destroy my life, but I would gouge my eyeballs out if I had to speed-date guys who couldn’t pick up girls anywhere other than church.

  “My blood bleeds purple, sir. I’m a Vikings fan through and through.”

  My family let out a collective sigh of relief and my dad got up and bear-hugged Jack. I was mortified, but Jack found the whole thing funny.

  “So Rena says you were in Russia for work.” Unfortunately Jenny had found her voice. “What did you think of it?”

  Jack glanced over at me, his eyes full of amusement. Was he going to back me up or was I going down in flames? “It was cold,” he answered. Jenny laughed like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. It was embarrassing. Even my dad noticed what a dork she was being.

  “Oh Jack, you’re so witty,” she gushed.

  My dad cut her off before she could say something truly horrific. I was sorry he stopped her. It was just getting interesting. “What kind of work were you doing over there?” he asked.

  “Um, it was . . .” Jack struggled. I could tell he was uncomfortable lying to my dad. I wasn’t.

  “It’s confidential. He’s not allowed to talk about it. I don’t even know what he was doing over there, but I know it was dangerous and he risked his life at least six times. He may have even taken a bullet.” I looked to Jack for approval, but all I got was a raised eyebrow. Maybe I’d gone too far . . .

  “I bet it was KGB,” Aunt Phyllis blurted out. “They’re trying to use the aliens and cyborgs to spy on our government. The zombies running Wall Street are definitely KGB agents.”

  “Alrighty then,” Mom chirped brightly, ignoring Aunt Phyllis’s outburst. “Jack, we’re having our fortieth wedding anniversary next Friday night at the club. We’d love to have you there.”

  This was getting to be too much. Did anyone think to ask me if I wanted him there? No. He might arrest me before next Friday. Then what was he going to do? Go alone? Shit, with the way he was being treated, they’d probably love to have him solo. They wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t there . . . “He can’t come. He’ll be in Iceland on a secret mission.”

  “Oh shoot,” Mom said, truly disappointed. “We’ll miss you. Won’t we, Rena?”

  “Tons,” I replied, refusing to make eye contact with Jack.

  “Actually,” Jack informed the table, “the Iceland trip has been postponed.”

  My head shot up and I stared daggers at my counterfeit boyfriend. “No, it hasn’t,” I sweetly shot back.

  “I got a phone call on the way over,” he said staring straight at me. “The trip is pushed back till next Christmas.” Crap, he had me. “So Rena and I would be delighted to come.”

  Had he emphasized the word come, or did I have sex on the brain? I decided to ignore him. My inner slut was starting to invade my brain. Looking at him only made the problem worse.

  “Wonderful,” Mom trilled. “Jack, do you like krum kaka? I made some for dessert.”

  “Love it, Mrs. Gunderschlict.”

  I bet he does. He may be hot, but he’s messing up my life. I will have so much damage control to do when he’s out of here. I’ll probably have to move out of state. Damn him, he has no right to make my family fall in love with him.

  My mouth felt like sandpaper as I contemplated the reactions I’d get when I told my family the relationship was a sham. Jenny would be over the moon. Why didn’t I go with the leprosy plan? That was a really good pl
an. I grabbed my glass of water and downed it. I wondered whether anyone would notice if I left.

  “Oh my God,” Aunt Phyllis screamed at me. “You drank my water.”

  “Jesus Christ, Phyllis,” Dad bellowed, “we have more water.”

  “No, no, no.” She paled and began to pull her hair. “It wasn’t just water.”

  Oh fuck no. Had I just drunk some kind of hallucinogenic? Or maybe an antipsychotic?

  Visions of me dancing topless on the dining room table while my family cowered in fear blasted through my head. Jack could now add exhibitionist drug addict to my list of illegal activities.

  “What was in the water?” Jack asked Phyllis. His voice was calm, but his tone meant business.

  Aunt Phyllis was crying now and murmuring to the invisible friends that were sitting on her plate. It sounded like she was praying. . . Was I going to die? I did feel weird, kind of heavy and droopy.

  “Phyllis.” Jack’s authoritative tone snapped her back to reality. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “What was in the water?”

  “I don’t know what it’s called,” she wailed. “It’s in my purse.”

  “Goddamnit, get her purse, Jenny.” Both of my dads were pissed. Jenny and her twin sister, who I didn’t know, ran over and grabbed Phyllis’s purse. They dug through it and pulled out a bottle. Well, Jenny pulled out one bottle and her pregnant clone pulled out another at exactly the same time. How in the fuck did I not know my sister had a twin?

  “Rena doesn’t look good,” I heard Dirk and his doppelgänger say. Wow, he could speak. He had a really nice voice and so did his brother.

  I felt Jack’s arms wrap around me. It was wonderful. He was so strong and he smelled so good. I nestled my face into his neck and noticed he had two heads. They were nice heads, but I found it odd I’d never noticed it before. You’d think a girl would remember that her boyfriend had two heads. Hmmm.

  “It’s a tranquilizer,” Jenny said, examining the bottle. “Aunt Phyllis, how many did you put in the water?”

  “One,” Phyllis said, “only one.”

  “Good,” Jenny replied. Or maybe it was her look-alike. “It won’t kill her, but she’ll be out for a while.”