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“Oh look, I love this game.” Her attention goes to the television.
I take the opportunity to get Jude to move closer. I glare at the space between us and look at him, but his eyes are on the television.
“She should have asked for an R,” he says.
“How about a T?” My mom shakes her head. As usual, she believes she’d be an ace at the game. The contestants aren’t very bright, according to her.
I knock Jude’s leg with our adjoined hands. He looks down, and his eyes meet mine. He mouths, what? I look at the space between us again, and he shrugs.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, she’s paying for a vowel.” Mom shakes her head.
I mouth for him to move over, and he nods as if two live wires just connected inside his head. He slides over, and my body zings with awareness when our thighs touch.
“Mom,” I say, wanting to get this over with.
“Yes, sweetie,” she says, not looking my way.
“We have something to tell you.”
“What’s that? Oh, Jude, did you see he was on a roll, and now he’s bankrupt? Poor luck.”
“Mom,” I repeat, hoping to grab her attention before the commercials come on.
“What?” She looks over, and this time she zeros in on our linked hands resting on my leg. “Oh.” She leans back and grabs the remote, muting the television.
I slide my hand out from Jude’s and lift my left hand. “Jude asked me to marry him.”
She stares at the ring on my hand then at Jude. “You proposed?”
Jude fidgets.
“I know it’s out of the blue, but—” I start to say.
“I should’ve asked you. I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilkins. It was kind of impromptu. Please forgive me.”
I turn my head toward Jude, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. Once we’re done with this marriage of convenience, I know he’ll find his real wife and ask her family for her hand in marriage. I push that thought from my mind because it feels as if my dinner is about to come up.
“It’s okay. I think Monty…” Mom doesn’t finish the sentence, waving.
“What?” I ask, forehead wrinkling.
“Nothing, sweetie. Just your dad would have said yes to Jude. He always viewed you like a son, but…” She stops.
I prepare myself to answer a barrage of questions. Last night, I went over what I suspect she’ll ask and prepped every answer I could.
“We’ve been keeping it from you, and I’m sorry. We just didn’t want the pressure of people’s expectations until we knew for certain.” I tell her our excuse for hiding a relationship we’ve supposedly been in, hoping she’ll buy it.
“So, this isn’t because of the farm?” I should’ve known my mom would ask directly.
“No, Mrs. Wilkins.” He grabs my hand, linking our fingers without the ease of a couple in love, but I’ll take it for today because my mom smiles. “I love your daughter.”
There’s so much conviction in Jude’s words, wetness pools in my eyes, but I push it back. Get it together, Sadie.
“I know you love her, Jude. But are you in love with her?”
God, Mom. I see now why Jude didn’t want to come.
“Mom,” I plead, desperate to save Jude because he is the worst liar. I’ll never understand how he got this over on his dad.
