Page 46 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The dreaded geranium story

Helix

I glance around the restaurant for the millionth time and then check my phone. Nicolette has been in the restroom for a long time, and I’m starting to get worried.

Maybe she’s sick. Oh, or maybe she started her period and doesn’t have any supplies with her.

I should probably text her. If it’s her time of the month, I can dart out right quick and grab her whatever she needs from the 7-11 down the block.

Come to think of it, she was wearing white shorts, so I might need to grab her a new pair if that’s the problem.

I’m sure I could find something in one of the boutiques around here.

I lift my phone to text her when a flash of familiar dark hair catches my eye. “Mom?”

My mother turns around, and her face lights up. “Helix!” I stand and bend to kiss her cheek when she walks over.

“Mom, you look so pretty today,” I tell her, running a hand down the sleeve of her Chanel suit. “Did you already eat?”

“Thank you, sweetheart, and yes. I dined with Grace this morning, but she’s already gone. Had to pick up her grandson.”

I pull out one of the chairs for her and gesture for her to take a seat. “Can I get you a mimosa or something?”

She sits, and her eyes light on the table, draped with a white linen cloth and displaying two mimosa glasses. “Oh, are you here with someone?”

My grin stretches across my face at the thought of Nicolette. “I’m here with my lab manager, the one we talked about before.”

“Ahhh, the ‘lab manager,’” she says, actually doing quotation marks in the air. My mother’s brown eyes twinkle. “What is her name again?”

“Nicolette.” I straighten my napkin in my lap. “She is… god, she’s so amazing. I really think—” I cut off when I notice the expression on my mom’s face has transformed from one of delight to one of… horror? “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. What’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all,” she says, her words tumbling over each other as her eyes dart nervously around the room. “I really should be going.”

She moves to stand, but I place my hand on the back of her chair. “I’d really like you to stay and meet Nicolette. Just for a minute. It’s really important to me.”

Mom sags back into her chair, her face softening. “It is?”

I nod with conviction. “I think I’m ready to start dating again.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “For the first time since everything went down five years ago.”

Her face seems to melt into acquiescence, and she reaches up to lay her hand on my cheek. “Oh, Helix, honey. That makes me so happy. I worry about you all the time.”

A sigh escapes from deep in my lungs. I hate that what happened to me still affects her.

“I’m sorry, Mom, but you don’t have to worry.

Nicolette is a wonderful woman. She’s the smartest person I know, and she has the best heart.

” I swallow hard. “I can’t tell you much because it’s not my story to tell, and I would never betray her confidence, but she didn’t grow up with the kind of love we had as kids.

I think she could really use a mother figure like you in her life. ”

My mother is a marshmallow in Chanel right now. If there’s one thing she’s a pro at, it’s caring for children, and she abhors the thought of a kid being mistreated. Even when she was scolding us—and rightly so in all cases—we never felt anything less than loved.

“Oh dear,” she says, pressing her fingertips against her pink lips as tears well in her eyes. “Of course I’ll stay and meet your friend.”

I glance around and see her. Finally . Nicolette looks amazing in a pretty mint-green floral top and long white walking shorts. I stand and take two long strides to greet her.

“Hey, are you okay? I was beginning to get worried.” I link my fingers through hers.

“I’m fine. I was just… washing my hands.”

I laugh. “Well they should be plenty clean by now.” We take two steps, and she freezes in her tracks, her gaze trained on the back of my mother’s head. With her eyes popped wide, she emits a squeaky sound.

Wait, does she think I invited some random woman to sit at our table or something? “It’s okay. It’s just my mom,” I explain. “She happened to be walking by, and I spotted her. Come on and I’ll introduce you.”

“I… uh… your mother?”

“Yes, the woman who birthed me,” I clarify with a laugh. “You’re both acting really weird.”

“We are?” she asks, her voice way higher-pitched than normal.

I step in front of her to catch her agitated eyes, pretty sure I understand what’s going on here. Meeting someone’s family can be nerve-racking, and while I don’t think my mother is intimidating, I can see where some may think so because she’s wealthy and always perfectly put-together.

“I promise this was not some kind of ambush or anything. My mother being here is completely by coincidence, though not completely unusual. She and her friend Grace come here a couple times a month.” My fingers brush along her tense jawline.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even think that this might be awkward for you.

I didn’t mean to be pushy. I can tell her we’ll catch up with her another time. ”

Nicolette’s shoulders deflate, and she shakes her head, making her curls bounce. “No, that would be rude. I’m sorry. I was just… startled.” She smiles but still looks nervous. “I’d love to meet her.”

“Mom,” I say, touching her shoulder lightly while still holding onto Nicolette’s hand. I don’t want her to be apprehensive around my mother. She really is a sweetheart. “I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Nicolette Bell.”

My mother stands and turns with a big smile on her face. “Nicolette,” she purrs, “how lovely to meet you. I’m Ophelia Oakley-Hale, and I’ve heard only good things about you. Please call me Ophelia. Or Mom.”

Okay, well, that might be laying it on a little thick with the call me Mom thing, but whatever. I release Nicolette's hand when my mother pulls her close and kisses both her cheeks. And it looks like she whispers something, though I can’t imagine what. They’ve never even met before.

“Ophelia, it’s nice to meet you as well. You’ve raised such a wonderful son, and I know you’re proud of him.”

“I’m glad you’ve been enjoying him,” my mom says, and Nicolette lets out a high-pitched giggle that’s completely uncharacteristic of her. My mother joins in, and I feel like I’m missing something. “Please, sit down. I promise I won’t stay and interrupt your date for long.”

Nicolette rounds the table and sits in the chair to my right, while Mom is on my left. I place a reassuring hand on Nicolette’s knee because she’s still acting a bit sketchy.

“I apologize for taking so long in the restroom.”

My mother waves a hand and shakes her head.

“Don’t think a thing of it. Sometimes it takes us women a while, and you never know what kind of interesting people you’re going to meet in a public restroom.

” The women share a smile while I eyeball them both suspiciously.

“Now, tell me every little thing about you.”

Nicolette details her educational and work highlights, which are impressive to say the least. “Brilliant!” Mom trills. “That makes me so happy. I love seeing women being successful in STEM careers.”

“Nicolette was also the keynote speaker at the American Academy of Clinical Biochemistry conference in L.A. earlier this year,” I brag.

Mom reaches across the table and pats Nicolette’s hand. My girl is slowly relaxing, which makes me relax as well.

“That is so impressive. What do your parents do, dear?”

Nicolette glances at me, and I give her a soft smile. Maybe she’s nervous about coming from a blue-collar background, but honestly, Mom doesn’t care about stuff like that. Yes, she has a lot of high-society acquaintances, but some of her closest friends are blue-collar.

“My pop runs a hardware store, and my mother helps him.”

Mom beams. “A family-run business. I love that, and I bet it’s wonderful having a father who is good around the house. I’m not particularly handy with household repairs, but I can use a screwdriver like a boss.”

We all laugh, and I add, “Mom has been very impressed with herself since she replaced all the light-switch covers in her house without help from anyone.”

“And the electrical plug covers,” she adds, giving me a playful glare for teasing her.

“Ophelia, tell me all of Helix's most embarrassing childhood stories,” Nicolette requests, and Mom brightens.

“Oh, where to begin?”

I groan, but they both ignore me as my mother begins spilling the tea.

An hour and a half later, I’ve pretty much been relegated to simply an accessory at this table. My mother and my girl are laughing their asses off, most of it at my expense, but I’m not mad about it. They’re getting along swimmingly.

We shared The Good Egg’s famous bacon flight, and then Nicolette and I ordered our meals since Mom had already eaten.

Nicolette had one mimosa before switching to bloody marys due to her propensity for falling asleep after too much wine, and my mother drank three mimosas. Both of them are adorably tipsy.

At one point, Nicolette invited my mother to go to something called Cowboy Yoga, which I’m assuming is yoga done on horseback or something? I have no idea, but Mom had heard about it before and seems excited to go with Nicolette. I tune back into the conversation.

“So there I am in the garden section trying to pick out some new flowers with two rambunctious four-year-olds.”

Christ on a cracker. I hope to god she’s not going to tell the dreaded geranium story. But my hopes are dashed with her next sentence.

“And I look down to find Helix peeing in a pot of geraniums.”

I shake my head as they howl. “No, he didn’t,” Nicolette wheezes, pulling a stalk of celery from her most recent drink and nibbling on the end of it. “What did you do?”

Mom shakes her head. “I had to buy them of course. Planted them in the front yard, and let me tell you, that plant grew bigger than any of the other ones that year.”

“My urine has magical powers,” I say dryly, sending them into another fit of giggles.

My mother smacks my arm. “I swear, raising boys should come with an instruction manual, including an entire chapter on their fascination with their penises.”

“Moooom,” I groan, covering my eyes with my hand.

She smacks me again. “If Helix and Phoenix were outside, they were whipping them out and peeing on something. I was so afraid they were both going to end up having that fetish when they grew up. What’s it called, dear? A golden sprinkler?” She looks at me with guileless eyes.

For fuck’s sake.

“The term is golden shower, Mom, and I think we’re done here.” I wave frantically at the server. “Check, please!”