Miss Impractical Pants (38 page)

Lucas sobered up. “In the U.K., ‘fanny’ is a very crude term for…for a woman’s…well, for her—”

“It means ‘twat,’” Lottie blurted.

“Mum!”

“Hello!” someone called out from a distance.

Holding her hand up to her eyes to shield the sun, Lottie took a few steps in the direction of the voice until Sidney was in clear view. He was making a fast approach.

“Owww!”
Lucas cried as Katie stomped on his foot.

“Get it!” she muttered, pointing vigorously at her bra.

“Are you mad? She’ll catch us for sure!”

“I refuse to just leave it here for everybody to gawk at—it’s embarrassing!”

“Nobody knows it’s yours.”

“
I’ll
know!” she hissed, and stalked away before he could opt out of the job. Pulling Lottie along with her, she went to greet Sidney.

***

Katie arrived back at her room to find Andrew had gone out.
At last, a bit of good fortune.
She took one longing glance at the bed. She’d probably be up all night fighting off Andrew’s libido.

The plump pillow was cool and felt like heaven against her cheek. Her eyelids grew leaden and she snuggled into prime napping position. She snuck in a long stretch, knowing it would be her last cognizant one.
             

“Katie, love,
are
you in there?” Mrs. Albright’s concerned voice was a welcome as a wet
willy
to the ear canal.

Katie considered ignoring her, but if she did, she’d end up feeling too guilty to sleep anyway. She pried herself out of her nest and trudged to open the door.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Mrs. Albright spoke with a strange urgency. “I was hoping to get some time alone with you.” Her shortness of breath indicated she had power-walked her plump frame all the way from the other end of the hotel.

The old wooden chair groaned its displeasure under Mrs. Albright’s weight as she sat down at the round turquoise table. She fumbled through her handbag as she spoke. “After you got conked on the head and I went upstairs to fetch you a change of clothes, I found these folded up inside your pajamas.” She pulled the ring box along with the note Katie’s friends had planted in her suitcase and slid them across the table.

Katie sat down, opened the box, and stared blankly at the atrocious golden ring. She was frozen in shock.

“I’m so sorry,
love
, I didn’t realize things were so serious with your man in America. I should never have insinuated that there could be anything between you and Lucas.” She burst into tears. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Katie reached out and held Mrs. Albright’s nervous hands in her own. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’ve never said anything to offend me.”

Mrs. Albright sniffed. Her copper hair, curled by the humidity, bounced as she sobbed. “The thing is…I kept the ring in my pocket on
purpose. You would have found it by now if I hadn’t done that.” Her frame shook as she
blubbered
her guilty tale.

Katie supposed she should have felt angry or at least annoyed, but the only resentment she held toward Mrs. Albright was for her lost nap. She moved over to the distraught housekeeper and held her in a consoling embrace.

“Please, Mrs. Albright, don’t you worry one more second about it. I wouldn’t have wanted to see this ring any sooner than right now anyway.”

“I didn’t want you to get engaged and leave us.”

Katie gave her a tight squeeze. This crazy family really did care about her. “It’s going to take a lot more than a little old ring to get me to leave just yet.”

“What about that scary Olivia?” The question was asked with such innocence that Katie chuckled in spite of herself.

“Well, yeah, scary Olivia did send me running…then again, the last time we met I puked on her, so I doubt she’ll show up to bother me anytime soon.”

Mrs. Albright offered an uncertain smile. “I hope you’re right.” Gathering herself up, she gave Katie one last embrace. “I’ll be off and give you some time to yourself. I should start getting ready—oh, that reminds me, I’m supposed to tell you we’re dressing up for dinner tonight.”

“Great, thanks.” Katie couldn’t offer any enthusiasm to go with her weak smile.

Mrs. Albright grasped an opportunity for redemption. “Please let me make your excuses. I’ll tell them that you’re having a lie down and not feeling well.”

“Thanks, I’d really appreciate that. I guess I do need some time to think things over.”

***

Paper in one hand, ring in the other, Katie tore down the beach trying to escape the claustrophobia bearing down on her. Why did she have to get this now? Was this a sign? She knew she didn’t love Jared, but maybe she was supposed to try? What if this was her last chance to ensure she wouldn’t be, as Anna had reminded her,
completely alone
? Did she dare risk it? In his own clumsy way, Jared adored her—maybe she could grow to care for him in return. He, at least, was real…while Lucas, if he wasn’t just rebounding from Olivia, was probably too good to last.
             

Scraps of conflicting conversations whirred through her mind, making it hard to breathe even under the expanse of the cloudless sky: Anna admonishing her to stop chasing fairy tales, Mr. Scott talking about true love, Lucas telling her in his dreamy accent that he would be standing first in line for her. She reminisced about the blissful memories from the night before, savoring them much longer than a girl holding another man’s promise ring should. As exciting as a romance with Lucas might be, for once in her life, Katie considered making a practical decision.

When her lungs finally gave out on her, she crumpled to the ground gasping, two breaths short of a sobfest. The sun’s rays created a kaleidoscope of colorful squiggles that skipped across her closed lids. She lay in the sand, allowing the abstract images to distract her from her profound confusion until the sun no longer shined. Only then did she reluctantly pull herself up to begin the long trudge back to the hotel. A new mantra was taking shape in her mind:
Kissing cousins
cause catastrophic confusion and create colossal consequences.
By the time she neared the front doors, she had just about convinced herself that her escapade with Lucas was just an illusion—a product of a man, a woman, and a head injury caught up in the romance of a foreign country.

Katie entered the room to find Andrew sitting on the bed curled into a ball, his arms locked around his shins and his forehead pressed down against his kneecaps. “You look the way I feel,” she observed.

He raised his head at the sound of her voice and ran his eyes over her. “That can’t be a good thing…you look like shite. Do you want to talk about it?”

Katie narrowed her eyes at him.

He responded to her skepticism with a pitiful grin. “I’m not always as awful as I seem.”

She detected no trace of malice or cockiness in his demeanor, only genial self-pity. She could relate to self-pity.

She shook her head. “No thanks, I don’t feel much like talking. Do
you
want to talk?”

“No.”

With a hefty sigh, she plopped on the bed next to him. The bounce she caused in the mattress knocked him off balance.

“Easy there, Duchess,” he said, adjusting himself so he was seated next to her, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. “What’s that you’re clutching?”

Without much reluctance she surrendered the ring box along with her notes.

“May I?” He nodded toward the papers that had taken the shape of the inside of her fist.

“If you want.”

He was meticulous in his task of uncrumpling, first the note from her friends and then Jared’s.
“Hmmm.
I didn’t realize you were seriously involved.”

He craned his neck to look her fully in the face. Her lips pulled into a taut line and she shrugged.

He muttered, “I’m surprised I didn’t notice—you’re positively giddy with love.”

For once, she approved of his sarcasm.

Andrew opened the ring box.
“Bloody hell!”
He tilted the box to get a different perspective. “This is hideous! I’d say your friends hit it right on the money. Any bloke who would choose this ring is a total cabbage!”

She couldn’t say exactly which part of Andrew’s reaction struck her as funny—the way he stared at the ring in complete horror or the image he created of beef-cakey Jared with a big leafy cabbage head. But she held onto the humor with both hands and let her laughter flow uninhibited, releasing her glut of pent-up emotions. Soon, Andrew joined in and they both fell back onto the bed. Eventually their hysterics subsided into long gasps for air. When speaking again became a possibility, he tugged at a lock of her hair, splayed wildly across the comforter.

“Are you hungry, Duchess? What do you think about going out and gorging our sorrows?”

Yanking her hair out of his clutch, she replied, “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

***

“Why don’t you tell me about this man of yours?” Andrew probed, putting aside the game he was making of sliding his beer glass from one hand to the other.

Katie skewered a forkful of salad. “What do you want to know?”

“For one, why you’re so conflicted.
You already seem to know he’s a wanker.”

“I know, but it’s hard not to second guess myself. What if turning him down is the wrong decision?”

“What if it isn’t? Let’s cut through the crap. I think you’re scared to cut your wanker boyfriend loose because you’re afraid of what could happen if you make yourself available.”

“I don’t understand.” Or maybe she didn’t
want
to understand.

Andrew cocked an eyebrow at her. “Come on Duchess, I can see what’s happening. You and Lucas fancy each other.” His voice was kind and encouraging, nothing like the cynicism she expected.

“Why do you hate him so much?” she ventured.

“I don’t hate him. It’s just really hard for me to like him.”

Her eyebrows shot up. He was actually being truthful with her.

Andrew drew on her silence to finish his explanation. “He’s the golden boy: He farts and china patterns appear.”

Katie giggled at the visual. “And Sidney—why do you resent him?”

“I don’t know.” He traced his thumb contemplatively around the bottom of his smooth chin. “Sid and Avery…it’s like they expect me to be like my grandfather.”

“Is that bad?” she asked with increasing curiosity.

“Of course not, it was my granddad
who
raised me. He died when I was almost seventeen. He left some big shoes to fill.” He dropped his chin to chest. “Perhaps I’ve never felt up to the task.”

She laid a hand over his forearm. “I have a feeling that when you decide to get off your butt and start trying to fill those shoes, you’ll do an amazing job.”