Page 118 of The False Flat

I covertly glanced back at Grant, hopefully making it look like I was only talking to Erin and not watching him. He’d moved slightly behind us to make room for a passing car. He was at the back of the pack. I slowed.

Deanna continued, “Wouldn’t you be hurt if you weren’t invited to Erin’s real, fake wedding?”

“Pen will be at my wedding,” Erin said before I responded. “Not the same thing. Have you told your mom, Pen?”

I sighed. “No.”

“You should tell her,” Deanna said.

“After.” We’d had this conversation before, so I hoped my tone would encourage dropping the subject of Aurora. I was afraid of what she’d do if she knew. It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

“Flowers?” Deanna questioned, and I wondered if she’d already picked out oversize bouquets.

“Nature. Chuck’s cabin will have trees on a carpet of fallen leaves. Done.”

“Bare trees towering above a carpet of old, slimy, trampled sludge. How about ivory roses and dusty miller with sprigs of berries? You know who could put together a beautiful arrangement?”

“Keyondra? She’s helping me with something else.”

Deanna was relentless. “She can still do flowers.”

Keyondra was helping me with Grant’s third wedding gift. Grant thought our first dance at the reception was going to be to Etta James’s “At Last.” Little did he know I was planning to surprise him with three solid minutes of complete and utter embarrassment; I was going to shuffle.

While Erin and Deanna talked about my dress, two riders passed us. Grant was now behind William and Beau, and I couldn’t make out the expression on his face. I slowed again.

“Okay, what about music?” Deanna continued.

I inhaled. Too many things to think about. I had Grant and my clients. End of story. “The soft chirp of birds?”

“You mean the screech of vultures ripping up the flesh of a dead deer in the woods?”

“Deanna!” Erin shouted.

“I’ll bring a Bluetooth speaker,” Deanna decided, unfazed. “Actually, I think Celia plays the violin. And then there’s the reception. You are going to let me throw you a party afterward, right? Grant already said yes, so there’s really no stopping me. We’ll have it at my house.”

“And you wouldn’t have thrown a party if he’d said no?” She had no idea that the party was going to be in the venue hall in her new B and B, and I loved that she didn’t know.

“Of course not, but I have to at least pretend to care about your feelings on my big day—I mean your big day.”

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to be married to Grant. We didn’t know how much time we had together, and I didn’t want to waste any of it planning a wedding. But then it hit me, why this wedding was so important to Deanna. It was a distraction and a thing she could do for her brother, the only thing she could do.

“Tell you what,” I said, looking out at the trees just feet away from us. “Do whatever you want. As long as I don’t have to make any decisions.” This was something I could do for her.

“Wedding guests?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

Her excited squeal scared me a little. I’d regret this.

She huffed. “Why is this ride so hard? It looked easy when we started.”

“This is a false flat,” I told her, which I’d learned from Grant the last time we’d done this route. “It looks flat and unthreatening, but there’s an imperceptible gradient that gives you a real workout.”

A sardonic laugh fell out of my mouth. Life was like a false flat. It looked smooth and easy and straightforward, but it was a steady, arduous climb to the finish, leaving you haggard and out of breath.

A white Honda flew past, going too fast beside a group of cyclists on the narrow-shouldered road.

“That’s why I don’t ride!” Deanna shouted from behind me.