Page 5 of The Love Hoax

I feel nearly ready to try Half Dome. I’ve been training for weeks for one of Yosemite National Park’s toughest challenges and I can’t wait. At thirty-seven, I feel stronger than I have in years.

Sweaty and bleeding on my left knee, I’m halfway to my car when my phone buzzes with a text from my sister.

Bring Ronna or don’t come.

Steph doesn’t know the meaning of subtle. Her wedding is five days away and she has morphed into the quintessential Bridezilla.

Good luck, Brad,I muse.

My soon-to-be brother-in-law has proven his saint-like patiencewith Steph countless times. He deserves a medal as far as I’m concerned.

I give only a thumbs up to Steph’s text, knowing it will annoy her to no end.

I toss my gear in the back seat of my Honda SUV and reach for the first aid kit. I’m sitting behind the wheel when the phone rings. If I could stay off the grid for the next five days, I’d be just fine with it.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. Just checking up on you. How’s the hiking?”

Mom is not great at hiding her agendas.

“Amazing.”

“You being careful?”

“Always,” I say, dabbing a tissue to my bloody knee.

I wait for my mother to tell me the true reason for her call. When she doesn’t, I say, “Out with it, Mom.”

“Steph’s getting nervous.”

“Steph’s always nervous.”

“She said she can’t get married without first meeting your fiancée.”

Now I wait for the clincher.

Mom doesn’t disappoint. “Quite frankly, I think she’s right. I mean, we are beyond thrilled that you found The One, but it is strange we haven’t met her yet.”

I think back to the perfect storm a few weeks ago. During a somewhat inebriated Vegas moment I am not especially proud of, I answered a call from my mother and sister. It turned out to be the phone version of an intervention.

Both women were on the phone, strongly suggesting I sign up to yet another dating site. Steph had met Brad on CupidsBow.com, and now it was my turn to settle down. Actually, they have been riding me for years about getting married and making grandkids. “You’re not going to want to run after a toddler when your pension kicks in,” my mother had helpfully pointed out.

Without thinking, I said I met someone. Ronna. The name I saw on the poker dealer’s name tag. “Someone special,” I said, oblivious to the inevitable consequences.

At the moment, it seemed the only way to get them to back off. When they asked how serious I was about her, I blurted it out. “I popped the question.”

Those four words sparked a firestorm of questions and unfettered joy. Where is she from? How did we meet? When is the wedding? Why had I not said anything?

I told them we still had to figure it all out and that she lives on the East Coast and much of our courting had been virtual. That I’d kept it close to the vest in case things didn’t go the distance. Something they fully bought into. At least back then.

Mom is not letting up. A gushy bloody knee would be better than this.

“I know you said she travels a lot but we never even had a chance to speak to Ronna on the phone. Steph thinks she’s imaginary. Like when you were little. Remember Archie?”

Great. She’s bringing my imaginary buddy into the mix.

Archie, my best friend. And alligator. Who no one else could see.