Page 79 of Terms and Traditions

My smile insisted on turning watery, but I had remembered waterproof mascara this morning. That was it. I was more than the girl who’d gotten left behind. More than just a discarded pawn in my parents’ stories. There was more to me than that. It was a part of my story, but not who I was. I could be Stephanie Addams, the woman who chose to live bravely, trust a steady man, and let her walls down despite the heartaches. “Thank you. For seeing me, the real me. And not giving up when I gave you every reason to.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Miss Addams,” he quipped with a wink.

“Good. Does that mean you’re open to an idea?” I arched my eyebrow, promising mischief and maybe some mayhem.

“With you? Always. You introduced me to pantry romance.”

“Goodness, never say that again! That sounds way worse than it was.” I tugged my hand from his, slapping it over my burning cheeks.

Nash had the audacity to sound amused. “What did you have in mind?”

I grinned. “Take me on a date tonight—a real one—and I'll tell you.”

“You’ve brokered yourself a deal.” Nash extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. I loved that this was our thing now. Leaning down into my space, our hands still clasped, he whispered, “In honour of retiring our fake relationship—for good this time because there’s no going back—I propose we celebrate.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Goodness, this man. My knees might not have had the gumption to hold me upright if I was standing. Trying to play off my fluttering pulse, I rolled my eyes and shoved his chest playfully, pushing the chair—and me—out of his reach. “I don’t kiss till the third date.”

Nash laughed at my retreat. “Oh, darlin’, we’re the rule breakers. You kissed me under the mistletoe before we ever had a real date.”

Leaving Nash to his meeting with the legal team, I headed home, since there wasn’t anything I could help with until he got answers from them. Nash promised to text me an update after and a time for our date. Date. Just the thought had me giddy. But first, I needed to come clean to Nana.

She was in the sunshiny kitchen, enjoying a cup of coffee with Liz at the breakfast table. “Things looking brighter in the morning, baby girl?” she asked, holding her arms out to me.

I sank into her embrace, letting her warmth and delicate lilac perfume envelop me. “I need to tell you something,” I said quietly.

Liz shot me a knowing look and excused herself while Nana pulled back and eyed me with an all-seeing eye. I had no idea how I managed to pull this over on her for a week. I wasn’t sneaky by nature, and Nana was the queen of sniffing out any and all sneakiness.

“About Nash and me…” I dropped into a chair, accepting the coffee Nana poured for me. “It was fake.”

Nana froze mid-pour, some of the fragrant liquid sloshing over the rim of her own cup. “Fake?”

The word was bald and harsh, and I realized how ridiculous it sounded. Way to go, Hallmark, for giving us unrealistic trope expectations.

She wiped the table with a napkin. “Like one of those Hallmark hogwashes where he’s an undercover prince and she’s just a librarian, and they date to keep him from having to have an arranged marriage?”

I tilted my head back, as if thinking deeply. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“Stephanie Mae Louise.”

Ooh, full-named again. “Yes, sort of. Without the prince and arranged marriage drama.”

“Why?” Nana’s voice was deceptively soft.

I tugged at the cuff of my knit sweater. “I was tired of being alone and the odd one out,” I confessed. “There were… some things said.” The church conversation about my standards being too high and Anika and Samantha’s whispers the night of the office party sprung to mind. “And Hiram texted, threatening to set me up with that Jarrett creep from last time. I panicked and just… thought it might help.” My voice sounded small in my own ears, and my excuse was even lamer.

“Baby girl, I don’t condone lying, and I had no idea he brought up that devil. I thought you were just supposed to bring a date.” She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “And while my eyesight may be going, I'm not blind yet. There was nothing fake about the way Nash looked at you, regardless of whatever plan you two might have concocted to the contrary.”

I chewed my lip. “Yeah, I get that now. But if I’d never brought him, Hiram wouldn’t have made that announcement and then—”

She stopped me with a hand lifted in a placating gesture. “Sounds like you’re shouldering a load that was never yours to carry. Hiram’s choices are his own, as are yours. You can’t take blame for what you didn’t do, only what you’re responsible for. Last I checked, your father is his own man, accountable to God. Don’t use misplaced guilt as an excuse to avoid what the Lord has in store for you.” Love coated the firm truths, and she swirled an extra spoonful of sugar into her already sugary cup. “So you love Nash, huh?”

I choked on my coffee. Talk about conversation whiplash. We hadn’t traded I love yous, but it felt like it. “It’s only been two weeks,” I deflected.

She raised a sculpted eyebrow in a way that looked eerily familiar to my own expression. “And the two years before that?”

“We were friends who…” Who were fighting an attraction because of our jobs.

Nana must have read my thoughts because she laughed. “Things have a way of working themselves out in God’s timing. The hiccups along the way are opportunities for us to grow in faith, not wither in defeat.”