Our stiff, forced chatter makes me wonder if Leland is nervous too, although I’m afraid to ask him, knowing it would just make me more anxious. Thankfully, the drive is short and before I know it, we’re being greeted by Mrs. Levesque on her front porch.

  “It’s so good to see you again, Stella!” she says, surprising me by hugging me tightly.

  “You too, Mrs. Levesque. Thank you so much for having us over.”

  “Oh, it’s my pleasure, honey.” She releases me and gives me a quick once-over, her smile growing. She looks exactly as I remember her from when Leland and I were teens: medium height with short, curly hair the same dark blond as Felicity’s, and a youthful face. “And please call me Lana.”

  She chatters away as Leland and I remove our shoes and follow her through the house. The space is open and bright with gleaming hardwood floors, sparkling surfaces, and furniture that looks both comfortable and expensive. If it weren’t for the framed photos on the walls and a few personal touches here and there, this place could easily be mistaken for a show home.

  “I hope you’re hungry because I’ve been cooking all day,” Lana says, pausing in the doorway to the living room.

  “Mom, I told you not to go to too much trouble,” Leland says gently.

  “It’s no trouble! You know how I love to cook, and it’s always nice to have an excuse to make a meal for someone other than just myself.” A timer goes off down the hall and Lana spins in that direction before looking back at us. “Leland, why don’t you play the role of bartender while I go check on dinner. I thought we could have a cocktail hour of sorts before we eat.”

  Lana scurries away and Leland leads me into the living room with his hand on my lower back. He guides me across the room to a small bar, and motions for me to take a seat on one of the two stools.

  “My dad built this three years ago, shortly before he died,” Leland says, running a hand over the smooth wood of the bartop. “He had just retired, and Mom was making arrangements to retire within the next year or so. They planned to host all kinds of dinner parties since they were always too busy to do it while they were working.”

  He avoids my gaze as he speaks, but that doesn’t hide the grief stitched into the lines around his mouth and eyes. I’ve never experienced the sort of loss he has firsthand, but I’m intimately familiar with that same pain on Louisa’s face in the two decades since her mom’s death. Even though we all felt that loss acutely, I can’t imagine what it’s truly like to lose a parent.

  Before I can speak, Leland waves a hand to the line of bottles behind him. “What can I get you? Mom’s got every kind of liquor imaginable, plus there’s a little fridge back here with chilled wine and beer.”

  “White wine, please.”

  “Coming right up. Help yourself to some ‘nibbles’ as my mother calls them.” He indicates the small dishes and plates that hold a variety of nuts, olives, fancy crackers, and cheese. The spread reminds me of Evie’s mom, who offers her guests prosecco the minute they walk in the door, followed by an array of gourmet snacks prepared by her personal chef.

  Leland pours my wine, then a pint of beer for himself. He slides my glass across the bar and says, “Cheers.”

  “Sláinte,” I say, wanting to see him smile again. He does and, while it still holds a touch of sadness, it lights his eyes in that way I’ve come to love.

  Leland glances over my shoulder. I follow his gaze, expecting to see his mom returning, but I can still hear her moving around in the kitchen. When I straighten on the stool, his eyes are locked on me.

  “I feel like a bad son,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “My mom is lonely and I know there’s more I could be doing for her—should be doing for her—but there’s also only so much I can do, you know?”

  “You’re not a bad son, Leland. You and Felicity are starting up a new business and that takes a lot of time and work. I’m sure just having you back in town is a relief to her.”

  “She wanted us to live with her when we got back.” He shifts and leans against the bar, one of his hands landing beside mine. He nudges my fingers and then begins playing with them absently. “We considered it, but the thought of being in our old rooms, knowing Mom would want to take care of us as if we were kids again, was too much. She was glad we decided to live together, but disappointed it wasn’t here with her. It’s only temporary for both of us as we figure things out. I know you get that.”

  “I do. I knew it would be the same if I moved back home. My parents have a separate basement apartment, which is where Wesley’s staying now, but I wanted space. It would have been too easy to fall into teenager mode and let them do things for me. My mom would have insisted I come for dinner every night, and she likely would have snuck downstairs to clean the apartment and scoop up my laundry. Those aren’t bad things, but they’re also not good for someone like me who’s trying to be independent and sort out the mess I’ve made of my life.”

  “It’s not a mess, Stels.”

  “Oh, it’s a mess. It’s less messy than it was, but it’s still a mess.” I pause, thinking about my life for a moment, how things have changed since moving back to Bellevue, and how I hope they continue to change in the coming months. “It’s becoming a beautiful mess, though. Something of my own choosing, with me working toward standing on my own two feet. I’ve learned it’s not a bad thing to depend on people and let them help, but I’m also looking forward to the day when the ground beneath my feet feels solid instead of rocky.”

  Behind us, I can hear the soft clicking of Lana’s slippers as she comes down the hall. Leland’s fingers close around mine and squeeze. “You’ll get there. I believe in you.” He lifts my hand and brushes his lips across my knuckles.

  My brain wants to believe the gesture is for his mom’s benefit, but she hasn’t entered the room yet. Which means this moment—Leland’s words of encouragement and that soft kiss—were just for me.

  *****

  Leland is the perfect fake boyfriend. His easy affection, attentiveness, and dazzling smiles regularly aimed my way ensure his mom has no doubt we’re a couple. In fact, he’s so convincing, it’s difficult for me to remember we’re just friends and this is all for his mom’s benefit.

  Although…I have to wonder how Leland holding my hand under the table is for Lana’s benefit. His thumb is brushing my knuckles the way it did that night we were alone in Evie’s condo. The night we kissed. It’s very distracting. And confusing. And yet I hope he doesn’t stop anytime soon.

  As Leland’s thumb continues to trace over the ridges of my knuckles, I remind myself this is temporary. I have no doubt Leland will continue to be a great friend after our charade is over, but I can’t get used to these seemingly intimate moments. Like I told Leland earlier, my life is still a mess; I’ve already dragged him partway into it, even if our fake dating situation is benefiting both of us. I don’t want to pull him in further by expecting or even hoping for more.

  I tune back into the conversation as Lana says, “Have you found your suit for the banquet yet?”

  Leland’s thumb goes still on my hand. “Uhh, yeah, I found it on the weekend and took it to the dry cleaner to get all the wrinkles out.”

  I press my lips together to stop myself from asking what banquet they’re talking about. As Leland’s ‘girlfriend’, that seems like something I should know.

  Lana turns her attention to me. “I assume you’re going with him, dear? I offered to be his date for the evening—I wanted to see him make his speech, you know—but he oh-so-gently turned me down.” She laughs, and I force out a light laugh of my own because it seems like the appropriate response. “You’ll have to take pictures for me, Stella. Maybe even sneak a video if you can.”

  Leland’s hand tightens on mine. “Actually, Mom, Stella isn’t coming with me. I didn’t want to subject her to a long, boring banquet, and my speech will take all of five minutes.”

  Lana frowns as her gaze darts between us. “That’s too bad. It’s at your old high school and everything. Are you sure—”

  “I’m so sorry, but I have to take this,” Leland interrupts, holding up his buzzing phone. I’ve heard it go off several times in the last few minutes, but he’s ignored it until now. As he stands, he leans in close to me and whispers, “Sorry, I’ll just be a minute. I promise I’ll explain about the banquet later.” He brushes a kiss on my forehead and strides away, answering the phone in a tense voice.

  A moment of silence follows Leland’s exit. Finally, Lana rises from her seat, winking at me as she tops up my glass of wine, then her own. After taking a sip, she says, “I apologize if I’ve been monopolizing the conversation tonight. I’ve been alone so much lately, I think I took ‘captive audience’ a bit too literally.” She chuckles as she says it, but I don’t miss the hint of sorrow in her eyes.

  “I don’t mind. I’ve enjoyed every moment of tonight.”

  Her smile grows, reaching her eyes. I didn’t notice much resemblance between her and Leland before, but I see a hint of it now in the way her eyes crinkle around the corners. “In that case, can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “What does your mom do in her free time?”

  My eyebrows wing up. I was expecting a question about my relationship with Leland. “Well…she and my dad spend a lot of time together. And she has friends she meets up with; their new favorite activity is those wine and paint nights. She also volunteers at the community services center. One of my best friends, Hollie, works there, and Mom goes in from time to time, usually to help assemble food boxes.”

  Lana nods along, her expression so intent I half expect her to bust out a pad of paper and take notes. “Interesting. Very interesting. Anything else?”

  “Umm, well, she’s also recently taken up knitting. She used to knit before Wesley and I were born, and she got back into it after watching Outlander and becoming obsessed with the shawls Claire wears.”

  Lana leans back in her seat, still nodding absently. Her gaze slides from mine and settles on something across the room. From the way her eyes go out of focus, I don’t think she’s actually looking at anything in particular.

  “I don’t know what to do with myself,” she says after a long pause. “I thought when I retired, I’d have my husband to travel with and do things with. I thought I might have grandchildren by now, but I know it’s not fair to put that sort of pressure on Leland or Felicity. I don’t have many friends; most of them are couples, and they drifted away after my husband died. They would occasionally ask me to do things, but being around them without Wally felt like poking a raw wound, and none of them seemed to understand. The rest of my friends were work friends. We promised to keep in touch, but it’s been difficult with them still working. We used to take coffee or lunch breaks together, but now they do that with other coworkers, and I feel strange just showing up.”

  My heart aches as I listen to Lana. It’s clear to me now that things like her desire to be involved in Leland and Felicity’s lives, cleaning her house until it sparkles, and cooking elaborate meals are all an effort to occupy her time. Staying busy probably gives her less time to think and also less time to feel the absence of her husband.

  “It’s helped having the kids back in town,” she says quickly. “They kept in touch regularly when they lived in Toronto, but it doesn’t compare to actually getting to see them and spend time with them. That’s been wonderful.”

  “I’m glad you’re all back together in the same place.” I want to say I think it would help to get out more and maybe make new friends, but I’m not sure how to word that without sounding indelicate. My mom’s face pops into my mind, and I experience a lightbulb moment. “You and my mom were friends back in the day, right? When Leland and Wesley were in high school?”

  “Oh yes, we had some great times together,” Lana says, smiling wistfully. “With Evelyn Hathaway’s mom too.”

  “Right, I remember that now. You should call my mom. I’m sure she’d love to reconnect with you.”

  “I don’t know, Stella,” Lana says slowly, her expression twisted in uncertainty. “I always felt bad about losing touch with her after the boys graduated. Wouldn’t it be strange to just call her up now out of the blue, all these years later?”

  “Not at all.” I stop myself from pointing out that Leland and I randomly reconnected and became part of each other’s lives again. I’m not sure what he told her about how or when we started ‘dating’. “If it makes it easier, I’ll pass your number along to her. I won’t tell her anything you’ve told me tonight if you don’t want me to. I’ll just mention how great it was to spend the evening with you and that I think you two would get along well, which is true. I could suggest that she and Eleanor Hathaway invite you to lunch or something.”

  “You’d really do that?” Lana asks, her eyes growing misty.

  Crap. If she starts to cry, I’ll cry too, and then Leland will come back and wonder what the hell is going on.

  I clear my throat. “Of course. Maybe you, me, and Felicity could do something too. Whatever you want—dinner and a movie, some Christmas shopping, a spa day. All of the above. And you know, if you really want to travel, you should. You could try one of those group travel packages. Maybe you’d make some new friends that way. It’s not too late to see the world if that’s what you want. It’s so worth it. I know Leland would agree with me.”

  Lana’s smile has been inching up as I speak, and it’s now a full-blown grin. “You’re really something, Stella,” she says, leaning forward and reaching out to take my hand. “Over dinner, I kept thinking how good you and Leland are together, how happy and relaxed he seems. Felicity talks about you all the time lately too. It looks like you’re going to be good for this whole family. Oh, speak of the devil.”

  Felicity breezes into the room, approaching me first to hug me. It’s likely a good thing I didn’t have a chance to respond to Lana; I’m not sure I’d be able to get words out past the lump in my throat.

  “Leland says I have impeccable timing as always, since it’s almost time for dessert,” Felicity says, moving to hug and kiss her mom next. “He asked me to send you into the kitchen for a minute, Stella.”

  My mind spins on the way to the kitchen. Things are getting more complicated. I could so easily see myself as part of this family, which is both wonderful and scary. Despite my best efforts, I’m beginning to develop real feelings for Leland, and now his mom is involved. Felicity too, but at least she knows her brother and I are only pretending to date. I meant what I told Lana, though: I’ll put her in touch with my mom again, and I’ll happily follow through with my suggestion of girls’ days with Felicity, even after Leland and I end our ruse.

  In the kitchen, Leland is leaning against the island, waiting for me. He smiles when he sees me and opens his arms, beckoning me forward. I hesitate for a second, not sure I understand until he motions again, making it clear he wants to hug me. I step into his arms and he wraps them loosely around me, pulling me close. I rest my cheek on his chest, and he rests his chin on top of my head. And then…he just holds me. We’ve hugged plenty of times, but I can’t remember the last time someone held me like this. It feels wonderful, and yet it’s not helping those complicated feelings churning inside me.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard part of your conversation with my mom after I got off the phone,” Leland says, his voice rumbling under my cheek. “You’re amazing, Stella. You got her to open up, and I could tell just from her voice how happy and touched she was to have you listen and care. Thank you for that.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. Your mom is great. I know my mom and Eleanor will be happy to reconnect with her.”

  “Not as happy as I am to have reconnected with you.” His arms tighten briefly around me and then he shifts to grip my shoulders and ease me back. “About the banquet my mom mentioned…it’s the high school’s annual sports banquet. It was supposed to be last June, but the banquet center flooded. It kept getting postponed because renovations were taking forever, and then they decided to use the school gymnasium. I’ve been invited before since I was captain of the varsity basketball team, but I’ve never gone. Coach Black retired in June, though, so they’re doing a special tribute to him this year, and they asked me to give a speech. I know how you feel about the school, so I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position by inviting you and having you feel obligated to say yes.”

  I let out a barely audible, “Oh.”

  Leland’s brows draw together. “Did I make the wrong decision? I wanted to invite you, but this whole fake dating thing is so weird, and I wasn’t lying when I told my mom it would be a long, boring evening."

  “But you wanted to invite me? You thought about it?”

  “Well, yeah,” he says as if it should be obvious. “I love spending time with you, Stella.”

  His words fill me with warmth. He’s still gripping my shoulders, and the steady pressure makes me feel grounded. Safe. Like I could do anything, even if it meant returning to my old high school. “Have you RSVP’d? Is it too late for you to bring someone?”

  “Why, do you think I should let my mom come after all?”

  I laugh and shove his chest. He doesn’t budge, although one of his hands catches mine and holds it in place on his chest. I swallow audibly, commanding my brain not to lose its train of thought like it’s been prone to doing lately. “I was thinking more like bringing me as your date.”

  “That does sound appealing,” he says slowly, his eyes glittering with mirth. “And I did check the plus one box on the RSVP. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal if I went on my own since there are inevitably more people at these things than they account for anyway.”

  “I promise to be better company than a random seat filler.”