Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(27)

“My phone is currently in a timeout, shoved into the back of my nightstand drawer until it can behave,” I remind her. “What is happening right now? Mom, how do you even know Aubrey and Jameson? And how did you get ahold of them to invite them over?”

“I joined The Facebook and sent them a message,” she tells me with a roll of her eyes, like it’s the dumbest question I’ve ever asked.

Her face says it all. A stranger might think my mom is smiling and happy to see her daughter, but a stranger would be wrong. My mother’s face is clearly looking at me saying, “Eighteen hours of labor with you, and I had to find out from Sharleen you know famous people. Eighteen. Hours.”

“Her relationship status says ‘It’s Complicated.’” Aubrey snorts. “I love your mom.”

“Heidi’s father was on my last nerve when my sister helped me set up The Facebook yesterday. I’m not changing it until he apologizes for putting the empty milk carton back in the fridge. Twenty-seven years of marriage and that man still doesn’t know where the garbage can is.”

“I’m sitting right here!” my dad shouts from behind me as he gets up from the couch along with Jameson.

“Good!” she yells back at him. “The garbage can is located three feet from the fridge, where it’s been for the last twenty-seven years!”

All I can do is stand here blinking as I stare at the woman who birthed me, who doesn’t even own a cell phone, because she firmly believes they cause cancer, and who once typed into Google, How do I Google something?

I’m still asleep. That’s got to be the only explanation for what’s happening right now. This is a guilt dream brought on by the fact that I have a new job I have yet to tell my mom about. And if she hears about it elsewhere first, I’ll hear about it for the rest of my life. She’ll pull it out at a random Thanksgiving ten years from now, just to make sure I never forget.

“Dinner was lovely, Mom.”

“Yes, it was. But remember when you lied to me when you were twenty-five?”

If only this could be just a bad dream.

“Since my daughter doesn’t care enough to tell her mother about her life and her new friends, what else was I supposed to do but take matters into my own hands?” my mom asks.

“And we’re very glad you did, Peggy,” Jameson tells her as he and my father join us in the doorway of the living room. “Aubrey and I have been living on takeout and room service. I’m dying for a home-cooked meal.”

“Sharleen called me the other day to tell me about how she saw Heidi at work and got to meet a real, famous actor,” she states. “And she just went on and on about what they do at EdenMedia. It was a little confusing. She kept talking about the back door. I have no idea about half of what she was telling me. She was still a little loopy from the laughing gas, ya know. So I said to her, ‘Sharleen, he’s just like anybody else. He puts his pants on one leg at a time like any other man.’ Except for Elizabeth Watson’s son, on account of how he likes to wear dresses now, but that’s neither here nor there. So, who’s hungry?”

My dad wraps his arm around my shoulders as my mom leads everyone into the dining room, and he gives me a squeeze as we trail behind.

“You doing okay, kiddo?” he whispers.

“I don’t know. Mom has Facebook now. And she didn’t go into a twenty-minute diatribe about how my new job is embarrassing and how she’ll never be able to show her face in church again.”

“Oh, she got all that out of her system with me when she hung up with Sharleen.” He laughs. “She’s coming to terms with it. She just wants you to be happy. Are you happy?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m getting there.”

He gives me another squeeze as we enter the dining room before dropping his arm from around me and walking over to take a seat next to my mom.

The table is filled with at least ten casserole dishes, three baskets of homemade rolls, and four Jell-O salads. I watch as Jameson and Aubrey’s eyes light up when they see all the food, and my mom tells them to sit down and help themselves. Much to my surprise, it’s actually a really nice lunch. My mom doesn’t immediately start grilling me about work or tell embarrassing stories about me growing up. We mostly just talk about Jameson and Aubrey and their life in the Hollywood spotlight, and how they try to lead as normal a life as possible.

After we’re finished eating and Aubrey and I have cleared away all the dishes for my mom, I make a pot of coffee and bring a tray filled with cups, cream, and sugar into the dining room. When everyone has their mug filled the way they like it, Aubrey quickly excuses herself and goes back into the living room, returning a few minutes later with a stack of books in her arms that I immediately recognize.

Butterflies start flapping around like crazy in my stomach when Aubrey walks right over to my mom and sets the stack down in front of her. The stack of half-naked men covers. My mom has been pretty cool so far this afternoon, but that’s probably because my job and what they do there hasn’t literally been shoved right in her face. Out of sight, out of mind and that whole thing.

I hold my breath and wait for my mom to shove her chair back from the table and go running from the room to get as far away from those books as possible, hoping to God Aubrey isn’t easily offended. Much to my surprise, my mother actually picks up the book on top of the pile, flips it over, and starts reading the blurb on the back.