Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(28)

“Oh jeez, this sounds spicy!” she quips with an excited smile.

“You said you wanted a few extra copies for your friends, so I brought three of each and signed them all. I hope that’s enough,” Aubrey states.

I couldn’t be more surprised right now if my dad jumped up on the table and started stripping.

“You asked for her books?” I question, unable to hide the astonishment in my voice.

“Of course I did! Your father and I are supporters of the arts, Heidi.” She purses her lips and gives me an exasperated look like I’m the one saying crazy things.

“You still have a velvet painting of dogs playing poker hanging in the spare bedroom,” I remind her.

“We’re broadening our horizons.” My mother shrugs, setting the book down and picking up the next one to study it.

“You do know what she writes, correct? That’s a really broad horizon. No offense.” I wince, glancing at Aubrey.

“None taken. I write smut. Everyone knows I write smut.” She shrugs.

“Don’t you dare belittle what you do, young lady,” my mom scolds her. “It must be a lot of hard work to come up with an entire story in your head and put it down on paper.”

Aaand now I’m back to hearing The Twilight Zone theme song in my head.

“I need to get busy cleaning out the gutters,” my dad announces, finishing off his coffee and setting the mug down on the table as he gets up from his chair. “Jameson, I got an extra pair of gloves you can use to help me.”

“Dad! He doesn’t need to help you clean the gutters!”

Sure, I’m friends with the guy, but come on. He’s still famous. He walks on red carpets and just did an appearance on The Tonight Show last month, and my dad is ordering him to do yard work like he’s a neighbor kid from down the street.

“Are your hands broke?” my dad asks Jameson.

“No, sir.” He chuckles.

“Then you can help me clean out the gutters. Aubrey, you can hold the ladder,” my dad instructs as he heads out of the room and Jameson pulls Aubrey’s chair out for her.

“Take a plate of food out to that bodyguard of yours sitting in his car on the curb,” my mom adds as I continue sitting there shaking my head.

“Oh, he’s fine. He’ll eat on his break after he drops us back off at the hotel,” Aubrey tells her as she stands.

“The poor man is sitting there just staring at the house. Take him a plate.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aubrey laughs, giving me a wink as Jameson grabs her hand and pulls her out of the room, leaving my mom and me alone.

Which I now realize was probably my dad’s plan all along.

“Are you mad at me?” I whisper after a few quiet minutes, breaking up the silence in the room that was punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.

“Why in the world would I be mad at you?” my mom asks in shock, getting up from her chair and taking the empty one next to me.

“Because I’ve been avoiding you and didn’t tell you what they do at EdenMedia,” I murmur sheepishly.

“Your father and I have sex.”

Eew! Not the response I was expecting.

“Oh, don’t make that look, like you’re going to throw up the green bean hotdish you just ate,” she scolds. “I might not be hip with the times, but you’re an adult and you have to make your own decisions. I can’t exactly forbid you from working at a place just because they record dirty books that aren’t typically something I’d read. Especially now that I’ve met someone who writes those types of books, and I think she’s wonderful and sweet. I’m sure your dad and I have done all the stuff she writes about, so who am I to judge?”

Again. Eeeeeeew! Too much information!

My mother has never spoken to me about sex in any way, shape, or form. The only reason she had the talk with me about my monthly visitor was because my cousin Michelle got hers for the first time when she spent the night at our house when we were eleven. I was in the bathroom with her at the time, because young girls do everything together, including pee, and when I saw what was going on, I ran out of the room, screaming for my mom, crying that Michelle was going to die. After getting Michelle situated, my mom pulled me into her room, sat me down on the bed, and said, “Welcome to being a girl. This is what will happen every month forever. Any questions?” Of course I had a thousand questions, but I was mortified. No way was I going to ask my mom anything. I learned about sex from secret internet searches and talking about it with my girlfriends. Sex just wasn’t something you discussed with your parents. Ever. To hear my mom talking about it so cavalierly right now is insane. Insane and gross.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away about EdenMedia and what they do there. I didn’t really know how to tell you. Especially since I know you have your heart set on me finding a teaching job,” I explain.

“And I’m sorry for making you think you couldn’t talk to me about it.” She smiles sadly.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. I know you want me to be a teacher, but….”

“It wasn’t what you wanted,” she finishes. “Don’cha know I just want you to be happy? No matter what it is you’re doing. Unless it’s illegal. Or takes you farther than a few hours’ car ride away from us. Or involves drugs of any kind. Cindy Carlson’s son Billy—you remember him from middle school and when I chaperoned the eighth grade dance and he got suspended for putting vodka in the punch? He started smoking the pot and dropped out of college, and now he lives in Cindy’s garage and delivers pizzas. There’s nothing wrong with delivering pizzas; it’s an honest living, but he’s constantly delivering orders to the wrong houses, and Cindy is thinking about doing one of those interventions. Are you smoking weed?”