But there was that weird feeling of separation again. For all the “thank you, miladys” that I was given when I collected their admission fees or scanned their tickets, it was like speaking to someone from another world. A world I had no desire to be part of, so why was this bothering me?
The next group was a family: a mom and dad with two almost school-age children. The boy was dressed as a pirate with a big black hat and a plastic sword, while his younger sister was a princess. Meanwhile, Mom wore a comfortable-looking sundress and Dad wore a camera around his neck over his polo shirt. The miniature pirate insisted on paying, waving the bills that his father had handed him. I slid off my stool and came around to the front of our makeshift building, squatting down to the diminutive pirate’s level.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I didn’t put on an accent, but I figured this little guy deserved some playacting in return. I handed him his change and the tickets for his family, and he turned back to his dad in triumph. I smiled up at the family. “Enjoy your day.” I’d said that about a bazillion times so far this weekend, and I’d be saying it three bazillion times more.
“April?”
The voice was unfamiliar, and as I straightened up from my crouch I wondered if it was me they were talking to. Probably not. April wasn’t that uncommon a name, after all . . .
“April! Hey!”
Then I focused on the next group in line to buy tickets.
“Lulu.” My voice was weak with surprise. Because in front of me was Mitch’s cousin Lulu. Even worse, with her were two elderly people, smiling at me in recognition. Mitch’s grandparents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Malone,” I said. “Hi.”
Shit.
* * *
? ? ?
Lulu was a hugger; I’d forgotten that about her. But the memory came back as she threw her arms around me like I was a long-lost friend, instead of the pretend girlfriend of her cousin that she’d met one time a few weeks ago. I was a little startled but I went with it, patting her on the back before she let go.
“This is great! I didn’t know you’d be here too!” Lulu was the picture of cool casualness. Her hair was caught back in a ponytail, poking out the back of a tie-dyed trucker hat that would look absurd on anyone who wasn’t her. She made it work along with a summery sundress and high-top sneakers. Practical for this kind of day: sandals were hell out here in the woods, according to both Emily and Stacey.
“It’s so good to see you,” I lied, directing my attention to both Lulu and her grandparents, people I had never expected to see again.
“Well, that’s convenient, since we’re here because of you,” Lulu said with a smile.
“What?” I had no idea how to respond to that, so I settled for blinking dumbly.
Grandma Malone’s smile was probably warmer than I deserved. “You said we should see Mitch in action, didn’t you?”
“Oh. I did, didn’t I? That’s . . . that’s great!” I tried to inject some enthusiasm into my voice, but my mind was whirling too fast to settle on anything coherent. “I’m sure Mitch left tickets for you here to pick up, right?” I darted back to the safety of my little booth, trying to put as much distance between us as I could. As if that would help to calm my racing heart.
“Oh. No,” Grandma Malone said as Grandpa Malone took out his wallet. “He doesn’t know we’re here.” She leaned forward conspiratorially, and my responding lean was involuntary. “We thought we’d surprise him.”
“That’s great,” I said again, because my conversation skills had gone entirely to shit. But I rallied enough to wave at the money Mitch’s grandfather extended toward me. “Put that away. I’m sure Mitch has comp tickets left. And if he doesn’t, I do.” I reached for the stapled stack of papers that listed all of the cast and volunteers along with the free tickets that had been issued in their name.
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Grandma asked. “Is your boyfriend giving out tickets behind your back?”
I turned alarmed eyes to her, but she was chuckling at her own joke, and while I tried to relax I was thinking too fast, too hard. Was that something a girlfriend would know? Especially a girlfriend who was volunteering alongside her boyfriend at the same Renaissance Faire? I’d been prepared the first time Mitch and I had done this. And when Mitch had returned the favor at graduation it had just been a quick thing to help me save face in front of my ex-husband. I wasn’t prepared to slide back into this role a third time.
Still, I managed to force a low-key laugh. “You know your grandson,” I said. “I don’t know half of the things he gets up to.”
Lulu snickered. “Yeah, that sounds like Mitch.”
Beside me, Nancy had finally caught wind of the conversation. “Are these Mitch’s grandparents?” She clasped her hands together, delighted. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to meet you! Mitch is such a darling boy. You should be so proud.” I tried to not snort. There were lots of adjectives to describe Mitch; “darling” wasn’t one of them as far as I was concerned.
But when I looked over at Grandma Malone, she was practically twinkling at the praise. There was nothing better to a grandma than to hear flattering things about her grandchildren. “Thank you,” she said, practically preening. “We’re all so very proud of him.”
My eyes flew to Lulu’s, and she met my wide-eyed gaze with a shrug. This was the opposite of the way his family had talked about him—to his face even!—when I’d seen them last, but whatever. They’d come to see him, and that was the important thing.
I ushered them toward the main gate, and Lulu grasped my arm in farewell. “So good to see you,” she said. “Maybe I’ll run into you again before we go?”
“Sure.” I shrugged with a smile. I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen, but it was better than saying “not likely,” right?
But as they went through the main gate and I returned to my spot at the ticket booth, Nancy turned to me with a wide smile. “You sneaky girl,” she said. “You never said a thing.”
All I could do was blink at her. I had roughly three working brain cells left at this point, and nothing made sense. “About what?”
“About that.” She nodded toward the main gate. “You and Mitch Malone? You’ve been more discreet than I would be if I were in your shoes, that’s for sure.” She fanned herself with a hand.
“Oh . . . that . . .” Oh no. Now what? Re-spin the elaborate lie of our make-believe relationship for the benefit of this whole goddamn Renaissance Faire? And for how long? Just because his family had shown up today?
My brain slammed shut on that last thought. His family was here. And Mitch didn’t know. I checked the time on my phone; I had an hour until I was done here and could warn him. But that would be too late. Surely they’d find him before then, and he’d be thrown into the same position that I’d just been in: having to think on my feet. It had shaken me up to the point that I was ready to lie down in a dark room for the rest of the day. Mitch had to perform an elaborate fight with swords and shit. He didn’t need this kind of distraction.