Chapter 29 Dane

Chapter 29

Dane

Wanting to punch something isn’t my default, but I want to punch something now.

For the second night in a row, Amanda’s on edge as we head into town for a family event where everyone in town except the other’s family is invited.

She’s in the gold dress tonight, and all I can think of is how much I want to peel her out of it.

“I know we need to talk about how we’re going to not go through with the wedding,” she says as I drive us into town for her grandmother’s announcement, “but can we maybe wait until after the party tonight?”

A million knives slash my heart, but I give her the only answer that anyone could possibly give. “Of course.”

“I just—it’s dumb to think a recipe could’ve been Maud’s dowry.”

“It’s not dumb.” Especially since she can’t find the recipe. It’s not in the desk where it was this morning. It’s not in any other hidey-holes that Amanda knows of at the bakery.

Kimberly either.

She knew a few more safe spots to look.

But the recipe is gone. It’s as missing as the engagement ring.

“Maybe your grandma wants it with her for something tied to her retirement announcement,” I say. “We should still compare the handwriting. You said it was old?”

“ Old old. Definitely as old as the letters Winona showed us.” She has her hands twisted in her lap, and I notice she reaches for the missing ring to fiddle with more than once.

“It does make sense that something like a recipe would’ve been a dowry,” I say slowly, ignoring the voice whispering and that means the recipe should belong to Lorelei . One step at a time here, and we are not at that step yet. “My ancestors’ letters said that George said he was tricked about the dowry. Getting something like a recipe when you’re expecting cash or jewels or even a dozen chickens or something would be ... surprising.”

“It would suck,” she says, not dancing around it. “Recipes can’t lay eggs to feed you.”

Despite the heavy atmosphere in the car, I smile. “Exactly. Recipes cost as much money as a bride.”

Thankfully, she laughs a little at that.

But then she sighs one of those heavy sighs that says there’s entirely too much weighing her down when tonight should’ve been so different. For so many reasons. “It would be amazing if someone tonight just knows something and flat-out tells us ... wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” I agree.

We pull into the parking lot of the community center fifteen minutes before the party is scheduled to begin, but we’re not the first guests.

Not by a long shot.

Half the town seems to already be here.

“We were all looking for the ring all day, so we just came early,” Mrs. Briggs tells us when we run into her inside.

High-top tables are situated around the room, all of them adorned with baskets of individually wrapped gingerbread men. Brown and pink streamers and balloons line the edges of the room, and there’s a giant stuffed gingerbread man sitting on a chair on the small stage at one end of the room.

“I warned you about this tragedy thing,” Mr. Briggs says to me.

“Mr. Briggs. We are not breaking up over a silly ring,” Amanda says.

Is it weird that I can feel her cringing on the inside? That I can practically hear her thinking We’re breaking up because this was fake all along but we need one more piece of evidence to fully put this feud between our families to bed before we can ?

Possibly I’m projecting.

Because that’s how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking.

Amanda leans into me and gives the older man a cheeky grin. “He’s just learning early how much I’m going to cost him.”

I force an amused smile of my own. “Worth every penny.”

Everyone in town wants to know details of the wedding. No one’s talking about Vicki’s anniversary and the rumor that she’s announcing her retirement, unlike last night, when everyone wanted to talk about how long my grandparents had been married.

Except Uncle Rob.

Who’s walking into Vicki Anderson’s party in suit pants and a button-down shirt, Aunt Teeny and Esme and Jojo beside him.

My jaw unhinges.

And then it snaps shut while irritation chokes me right about the same place my tie is sitting.

“I invited your entire family,” Kimberly says to me as she joins us. “I called your father and told him I was ready to present a united front of support for you two and that he could bring anyone he wanted who was willing to do the same.”

The irritation choking me morphs into something different as Uncle Rob’s gaze meets mine, and he gives me an awkward smile.

Esme beams.

Amanda sucks in a breath that comes with a hitch that I feel in the pit of my stomach.

She’s touched too.

I subconsciously reach for her hand. She meets mine halfway.

Three to go.

Just our grandparents now.

The hardest of the bunch.

Silence descends among the early party guests as everyone watches my family approach us. Dad’s not here. Lorelei’s not here.

But if Uncle Rob is here, they’re likely not far behind.

Uncle Rob extends a hand to me as he reaches us. “Never too late to admit you’ve been wrong and start over, is it?”

“It is not.” I’d like to be more eloquent, but I wasn’t prepared for this and I’m not always quick on my feet.

Uncle Rob turns to my fake fiancée. “Amanda, I apologize. You’ve done nothing to me or my family that would justify the way I’ve treated you.”

“Thank you,” Amanda says. “I know this isn’t easy for anyone, and I can’t begin to express what it means to Dane and me that you’re all here and willing to try to get along for our sake.”

“It’s a summer Christmas miracle,” Esme murmurs.

“I just married into this baloney,” Aunt Teeny says.

Kimberly smiles at her. “Same. Did I hear you quilt? I’ve always wanted to learn.”

Esme hugs me. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. “It’s about time someone ended this so that no one else ever has to suffer in love.”

There’s something in her voice that has me lifting a brow at her.

What’s in it for her if our families make up? She was in Amanda’s brother’s grade in school, but to the best of my knowledge, they weren’t secret friends.

But they could’ve been.

She blushes, then gently shoves my arm. “That was a long time ago,” she mutters.

I look at Amanda. Then back at Esme. “Did you—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I’m a happily married woman with the best daughter a woman could ask for. Don’t go telling yourself stories.”

Amanda’s eyes are dinner plates. “Wait, wait. Did you and my—”

“ Happily married woman ,” Esme repeats.

“You gave us the letters,” Amanda breathes. “Winona said she didn’t. But you did.”

“What letters?” Kimberly asks.

“Mama, can I have a gingerbread man?” Jojo asks.

“Absolutely,” Esme says. “Let’s go find the prettiest one. Thank you for the invitation, Kimberly. It’s fascinating to see how Andersons party after all of these years.”

Amanda whips out her phone, mutters something about time zones, and fires off a text. I’m not trying to spy, but I can’t help but notice it’s a message to her brother in all caps and demanding an answer to the same question I have. DID YOU HAVE A THING FOR ESME SILVER IN HIGH SCHOOL??

She doesn’t get an answer before Vicki arrives.

Vicki’s wearing a gold dress with frilly sparkles that hangs down midcalf. I realize her short hair is brighter with the red and green stripes, like she had it touched up, and I wonder if I just didn’t notice earlier today. She’s also wearing makeup, including something glittery that makes little spots all over her face glint in the light.

Amanda sucks in a big breath and squeezes my hand tighter.

On her mom’s recommendation, she’s going along with whatever Vicki says tonight.

We’ll fix everything else later, Kimberly said. I don’t want you to spend your life miserable. I want you to be happy.

I want her to be happy too.

I want to be what makes her happy.

And instead, our breakup is looming over us.

Our engagement has always been fake, but it never felt more so than it does tonight.