The Dysfunctional Test (5 page)

Heather told Troy the things Maxwell said when they broke up.

Troy wasn’t being nice. He pitied her.

There was nothing more embarrassing or pathetic than knowing Troy had this information. This was why he agreed to this fiasco. He felt sorry for her.

She pulled the phone away from her ear and disconnected. Before she could hold back, hot tears fell down her cheeks. Pressing her hands to her chest, she rocked, trying to sob quietly enough so no one could hear.

Something else she used to do often as a kid. Back then she’d sob into her pillow.

One day back home and she was already crying. This was going to be the week from hell.

Troy watched Camryn out of the corner of his eye as she drove them over to her parents’ house. She had insisted on picking him up for dinner. He had a feeling it was to escape the house. A full Covic family could be…overwhelming. If she gripped the wheel any harder it was going to pop off.

“You’re quiet,” he said, just to get some conversation going.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

He’d bet there was enough going on in her head. “Why did you hang up on me last night?”

“I thought we were done.”

“You don’t say good-bye when you’re finished with a conversation? Most people do.” She stared straight ahead. “It was just a compliment, Cam.”

“Well, you don’t have to give me compliments.”

Now he wanted to. “Boyfriends say nice things to their girlfriends.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

She needed a team of massage therapists and a stiff drink. “I thought we were supposed to break up
after
the wedding.”

She glanced over at him with a look of pure Pittsburg steel.

“Look, Cam, I’m nervous as hell too.”

Her shoulders tensed as she pulled into her parents’ drive and cut the engine. She stared at the house like it was going to eat her. “Last chance, Troy. You might need to be committed after this.”

He needed to be committed now. But after learning what that ex of hers did, he was going to make this fake relationship work for the next week even if he had to literally propose to her. “You look nice.”

She did too. She had her hair back in a ponytail, rare for her, ’cause it showed off her cute face. A knee-length white sundress hugged her waist and hips.

“Stop it, Troy.”

He got out after her. Lord, the woman could not handle a compliment. “I mean it, Cam. I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

She stopped at the front door and turned. He couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Did you mean it before or after Heather told you the things Maxwell said?”

He stopped. Grabbed her arm. “Camryn…”

“Enough,” she ground out. “Let’s go.”

And she opened the damn door to hell before he could even rebut. He sucked in a breath and stepped inside too. The entire clan was there, including her two aunts and uncles. It smelled like Nana’s
sarma
recipe was cooking, stinking up the house with cabbage and minced meat. He hoped they’d made something else too, ’cause his stomach couldn’t handle that now. Camryn stopped just inside the doorway to close the door behind him.

Mom rushed over and patted his cheek. “Oh, Troy. You made it.” Her apron showed she was probably making cucumber soup in addition to sarma. Disgusting. Cucumbers belonged in salad. Give him another twenty years and he’d still hate Serbian food.

Mom looked around him. “Camryn, where’s your boyfriend?”

Now or never. “That would be me,” he said, loud enough for the living room to hear so he wouldn’t have to repeat it. If the statement bore repeating, he may bust out into hysterics.

The Covic house had never been that quiet. He was sure of it. Damn. If this was all it took to shut them up he should’ve done it sooner.

Her mother looked from Camryn to Troy to Camryn again. “No really. Where is he?”

He plastered the stupidest grin on his face he could muster without making his teeth hurt. He wanted to run home like the scared kid he used to be. He kissed Mom’s cheek and took Camryn’s hand, only to find it shaking, so he kissed her hand too.

Her mom backed away from them as if they were plagued by leprosy. Any second now she’d whip out the Clorox and make the sign of the cross.

Troy led Camryn by the hand deeper into the living room and found an empty chair. After sitting, he pulled her into his lap. The fact she let him said wonders about her anxiety level.

He looked around the room. Yep, everyone still staring—check. “Come on, guys. It’s not
that
shocking.” It totally was. If he were one of them and someone had told him they were a couple, he’d react the same way. He looked up at Cam’s profile. She was intently staring at Heather to save her. Who’d save him? “I told you we should have said something sooner.”

Her eyes darted to him. “Yes, perhaps we should have.”

“Cam here wanted to wait until things were more serious before announcing it to the world.”

Yjaka Mitch laughed. All eyes shifted to him. Then he laughed again, his round belly jiggling worse than the Easter Jell-O mold. By the time he was done, Troy was tempted to find a respirator.

Nervous laughter followed from the rest, like a hazardous contagion. Camryn’s shoulders sank. Troy brought his hand up to rest on her back.

“You had us going there for a minute,” Kuma Viola said. “How’d you get Camryn there to do that? Too funny. I thought she was born without a funny bone. When do we eat?”

Tetaka Myrtle belched, then hiccupped, patting her chest as if that’s ever helped her digestion in the last thirty years.

Nana came into the room from the kitchen, leaning more heavily on her cane than when he last saw her. “Dinner in ten minutes.” Her gaze focused on Troy and Camryn when no one stampeded to the dining room. “Camryn, get off that boy’s lap before you break him.”

Obediently, she stood, but he pulled her back down.

Mom glared at Heather and Justin. “You said to act normal. You said to be open-minded. Is this funny to you?” Mom obviously didn’t think it was a joke. “You knew about this, you two?”

Justin put up his hands in surrender. The lucky guy still had a chance to escape the family. He wasn’t married in yet. “I found out yesterday. Don’t blame me.”

Dad stared at Troy and Cam, shaking his head in disappointment. It’s not like they robbed a damn bank. “This
is
just a joke, right? The real boyfriend’s coming later?” He looked too hopeful for Troy to break his bubble.

Fisher stood slowly and handed Emily off to his wife, Anna. Troy was expecting any variety of responses, but anger wasn’t one of them. Fisher’s hands fisted and flexed.

Troy’d had enough. It was time to get past shock and on to the interrogation or they’d be going in circles until their flight tomorrow. Standing abruptly, he caught Cam by the waist before she could fall, bent her over, and smacked his mouth right over hers. Her eyes flew wide, panicked. It was, unceremoniously, the least romantic thing he’d ever done. It was no way to properly kiss a woman, even if it was Camryn. He had warned her yesterday, after all. At least now they got the first awkward kiss out of the way.

And awkward it was.

“Oh, God. My eyes are burning,” Justin declared. Jerk.

Troy tilted Cam back upright, held her arm to be sure she wouldn’t pass out in shock, then sat back down with a plop. Camryn remained standing, eyes focused on the Orthodox crucifix on the wall above the fireplace.

Even Jesus was crying.

Nana sat down in her recliner, assessing the situation. “Why did Troy just kiss Camryn? He can’t be that hard up.”

Troy’s jaw dropped as he looked at Camryn, who had finally snapped out of her haze. She looked at Nana and swallowed. To any lame person, she looked just like she always did, poised and calm. But her fingernails were digging into her palm.

Troy spoke when no one else did, ready to defend. “That was not a nice thing to say, Nana.” It was downright cruel, actually. He loved Nana, all of them, but her tongue could be sharper than a sword.

Yjaka Harold piped in before Nana could retort. “It would appear that Troy is Camryn’s boyfriend.” He scratched his head, his thinning black comb-over not moving an inch.

Nana’s gaze sharpened as she looked between the two of them. “My hearing must be going.”

“No, Nana,” Heather said. “It’s true. I think they make a lovely couple. It’s about time.”

Everyone looked at Heather as if she’d just done the Electric Slide butt-naked. Including Justin, who tried to cover up his shock with a nod. Hell, even Troy couldn’t mask his doubt.

Fisher stormed out the front door.

Nana laughed. Laughed some more. “Heather, what in Sam’s Hell are you going on about? Your eyes must be going, you twit. I mean, look at her.” She pointed to Camryn, and the room commenced in unison to stare at Camryn. “My granddaughter is…pretty, but she’s not in
his
league.”

Troy sucked in a breath. Through the years, he’d grown used to the family teasing him about his good looks. Teasing Heather about hers. Teasing each other for one thing or another. Yjaka Harold’s comb-over. Tetaka Myrtle’s constant indigestion. Kuma Viola’s purple lipstick. Fisher’s dimple. Mom’s overuse of salt. Dad’s bald head. And Camryn…for, well, everything.

He never noticed until now just how hurtful their words could be. Camryn was the smart, logical one. More of a mother to them in a sense. He never thought to wonder if all this bothered her, because nothing seemed to bother her. Camryn protected those she loved, but who protected her?

As he looked at her now, spine straight and chin up, it would appear the same old, same old. Except the corners of her glazed eyes were down, and her eyebrows were ever so slightly drawn together. Her jaw ticked as she swallowed.

They were ramming home everything her ex said.

From his position in the chair, he took her hand and squeezed. She didn’t respond, and her hand was cold, probably having lost circulation twenty minutes ago. Had any of them bothered to tell her all her redeeming qualities? “She is pretty, Nana. And too good for me.”

If there was any truth to the lie they were telling, it was that.

Her gaze dropped to the floor as she removed her hand from his. After clearing her throat she said, “Give me a minute to wash up for dinner, and then I’ll help you set everything out.”

Calm as ever, she walked to the staircase across the room, proceeded up the stairs, and only after he heard a door close did the chatter start. Troy rose and glanced out the window to see Fisher pacing in the front yard. His gaze dropped to Heather, who was chewing on her lip.

Troy shook his head and addressed the room. “Camryn and I are together now. It’s not a joke, or up for discussion.”

Before they could piss him off anymore, make him say something he’d regret, he walked out the front door to face Fisher. Trying for the nonchalance he didn’t feel, Troy sat on the top step of the porch and waited Fisher out.

Fisher whirled on him in seconds, his dark brown eyes narrowed to slits.

Before his friend could throw a punch, Troy raised his hands. “No black eyes for the wedding, man.”

Fisher’s wide jaw slackened as he stood erect. He ran a hand over his short, wavy brown hair. “How could you not tell me, Troy? How?” He paced to the curb and back again. “Camryn? Really?”

There was no logical or safe way to respond, so Troy wove his fingers together and looked down.

“Did you run out of women in Milwaukee? You had to fuck with her now?”

Troy ground his teeth. “You were given a very big surprise today, so I’m going to let that go. But even I have a limit, Fisher.”

“She’s not just some girl. Not a toy. Dating isn’t a game to her.”

“I know that!” he roared, standing. He dropped his hands on his hips and focused on a planter with begonias to avoid saying anything more.

“How…” Fisher blew out a breath, crossed his arms. “How long has this been going on?”

Troy pulled the information Cam gave him from memory. “Since last January. I was in Chicago and stopped by to say hello. Things…evolved.”

“Evolved,” Fisher dully repeated. “Evolved.”

Troy ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Not that he could have, seeing as he just found out himself yesterday.

“This is not okay.” When Troy started to argue, Fisher raised his hand. “This is
not
okay with me.”

“I’m good enough to be your best friend, but I’m not good enough for her. Is that it, Fisher? She deserves better than a construction worker with a drunk convict father.”

Fisher closed his eyes and dropped his head. Troy thought he’d deny it, but he didn’t, proving the real truth. He wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough. He wasn’t really family, not by blood. They’d always side with her. They would when the wedding was over. He’d be alone.

“This is Camryn for God’s sake,” Fisher said. “She doesn’t get attached easily. When you leave her, and you will, it will kill her.”

He couldn’t tell Fisher the truth, including how Camryn was going to end their fake relationship, not Troy. Fisher had been his best friend nearly his entire life, as much a brother as blood would have tied them. He didn’t know anything about what was really going on, so his words cut so much deeper than anything his drunk of a father ever said.