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“I knew she was hiding something,” Joyce declares victoriously, her voice rising as she punctuates her triumph with a loud hand clap.
“Gina? Are you truly pregnant?” My mom’s upset voice cuts through the tension-filled air that has settled around us.
“Please, Mrs. Emerson, could I finish?” Randy respectfully asks. “I’ve been practicing what I want to say to your daughter on the drive over, and I don’t want to forget it.”
Silenced by the moment, I watch my mom. Though anguished, she gives Randy the nod to continue. The backyard falls quiet with anticipation.
Randy clears his throat. “It seems the world believes there’s something going on between Deanna Blume and me. But aside from our long-standing friendship and her role as my business manager, there’s nothing else.”
“Then why were you cozying up to her?” Joyce’s voice rings out, capturing everyone’s attention.
Randy and I quickly turn to face her.
“That’s a great question, Joyce,” Linda chimes in, nodding in agreement to emphasize her point.
“There was no cozying up, I assure you,” Randy responds firmly.
“But you and Deanna Blume were romantically linked, at least at one point, weren’t you?” Norie interjects, her arms crossed defiantly as if she’s skeptical of his denial.
The scene feels almost surreal. It’s as if the ladies have spontaneously decided to interview him, each one eager to probe deeper.
Randy’s face tightens into a deep frown, weariness etched into his features. “Deanna and I were never romantically linked.”
“That’s not what you said on the show,” Norie retorts.
He shakes his head, and I can see in his eyes that he’s desperately looking for a way out of this unexpected interrogation.
But just as I’m about to intervene, he says, “They asked me questions during interviews, but my guess is they twisted my words to make the show more interesting. I would have thought the cooking alone was interesting enough since I really gave it my all.”
“But she slapped you on the rear end!” Carrie interjects, as if that single action undermines Randy’s explanation.
“Yes. She was encouraging me to get moving. That challenge was particularly tough, and I was falling behind,” Randy explains.
Carrie tilts her head skeptically. “But she jumped into your arms, and you spun her around,” she presses on, her tone insistent, demanding further clarification.
“Oh,” Randy responds, nodding as if the memory has just clicked into place. “Yes, that was right after I won the second competition. As my manager, she was really pumped, whispering in my ear, ‘We’re back, we’re back, we’re so back.’” Suddenly he stiffens, appearing conflicted, then scratching the back of his head, he says, “I don’t think I can say more about what happened on the show. I signed an NDA, and I’m pretty sure I said too much already.”
Gradually, all five hosts nod, seeming to accept his explanation. Relief washes over me. Randy has weathered their relentless questioning and emerged unscathed.
“So, you didn’t win?” my mom asks abruptly.
Her inquiry clearly catches Randy off guard. He hesitates, visibly conflicted. “Again, I can’t say, Mrs. Emerson. Even though I really want to answer you… I just can’t.” Fatigue is evident in his voice.
Before anyone else can jump in with more questions, I interject firmly. “I believe him.” I say it again, more emphatically, to silence any doubts. “I believe him.” My voice is urgent and breathless.
Randy and I lock gazes as he steps closer, now just within reach. I pull him toward me, closing the distance. At this moment, the rest of the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of us.
“That was rough,” he whispers, his voice light with a chuckle.
I let out a breathy laugh in response. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“No,” he shakes his head gently, frowning earnestly. “Don’t be. I want you to know that the only woman I’m in love with is you.”
Tears well up in my eyes as I whisper back, “I love you too.”
Randy’s fingers gently stroke the side of my neck, and I lean into his tender touch, feeling a rush of shivers down my spine.
“Hi,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
