Home for the Hollandaise: A Small-town Sweet Romantic Comedy by Erin Lucy

Author:Erin Lucy [Lucy, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Fable Press
Published: 2023-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

Dad and I take Mom to Harrison Orthopedic Center in the early hours of Monday morning. The waiting room is modern with booths along one side and outlets for device charging. The rest of the room is fitted with comfortable chairs and couches that are oriented toward a flat-screen TV that’s playing the news with subtitles.

After they take Mom back, we choose a booth. Dad brought one of his science fiction tomes to read. I rely on my phone for entertainment.

A couple of hours later, Mom’s out of surgery. The surgeon assures us everything went fine, and she’ll be going home with us soon.

Relieved by the news, I decide I’m ready to confront Whitney. I send her a FaceTime request, and she picks up on the second ring. She’s leaning back in her office chair, her forearm weighing against her forehead. “Oh my gawd, girl, I’m so tired. We didn’t get home until three thirty. We got stuck behind a wreck for two hours. I almost had to hop out and pee on the side of the road.”

Dad looks up at me. I shrug. “But you didn’t.”

“No. Things finally got moving.”

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” I slip my purse strap over my shoulder and start toward the ladies’ room.

“Good idea. Let me go hide in a workroom.”

By the time I close myself into a bathroom stall, she’s already behind glass.

“It doesn’t help that we stayed up late Saturday night too.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, trying not to sound too curious.

“Yeah. His parents have a hot tub on the back patio.”

“Hmm.” I wouldn’t know. I’ve never visited Hayden’s parents’ house. Small matter.

“We stayed in it for a couple of hours and then we got drunk and passed out on the couch in the game room.”

My stomach clenches. “Like together? Or on separate cushions?”

“I was so out of it. I can’t remember. I may have to sneak into one of the empty offices and sleep through lunch. Ugh.” Whitney groans so loudly it vibrates my phone. “Okay. You were quiet all weekend. How was your Thanksgiving?” She sets down her phone, plunks her elbow on the desktop, and leans into her hand. I have a direct view up her nose.

“It was nice,” I say nonchalantly. “Not as nice as yours.”

“It really was awesome. Thank you so much for letting me go. I haven’t had a vacation in two years. I didn’t realize how much I needed out of this city. I can see myself moving up there, you know? It’s so peaceful.”

“It sounds like you and Hayden got along well.”

“I think I annoyed him. I was like a kid in a candy store. I couldn’t contain my excitement. He just flashed me an odd look now and then to tell me to tone it down.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I know that look. It means, can you please stop talking about the Dasymutilla Occidentalis and its common miscategorization as an ant when it’s really a wasp with no wings, and yeah, it can kill a cow, hence the common name, Cow Killer.

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