Hello, people!
Happy Saturday and Happy Mothers' Day to all the moms of all stripes out there.
Also, a hug goes out to those who can no longer celebrate with their moms on this day.
Usual housekeeping:
- I still don't own any of it.
- Team Momo wouldn't exist without Midnight Cougar and Alice's White Rabbit with their red pens, or without AGoodWitch, Maplestyle, Mel, and Eternally Addicted who pre-read and tell me if I'm off my rocker or not.
THANK YOU for propelling this little story past 1k reviews! I love reading all of your reactions. Seems like everyone loved the guys' bonding time-unfortunately we don't get to see them cook this time, because we'll have a little time jump.
Someone asked why Bella's parents were never mentioned, and well ... today we start finding out about that.
Let's hear from Bella.
Chapter 26 - BPOV
My parents were flying into Atlanta today—two days before my MBA graduation from Emory. My micro-apartment acted as my saving grace in this case; because I didn't have the means or space to host them, they'd spend their few days in Atlanta at a hotel.
Thanks to the firm's connections, I found them a great place at a great rate, with the added bonus that it was close to the office, and adequately far from my apartment.
"Alistair? Do you have one minute?" I leaned against his doorframe, waiting for him to acknowledge me. I had to leave in about an hour to pick up my parents from the airport.
"My favorite girl in the whole world!" he boomed, ginger hair in disarray and a pen stuck behind his ear.
"I'm telling Elinor you said that."
At the mention of his wife, his almost roguish smile disappeared into a thin line. "Traitor. Now, what do you want?"
I snickered. Alistair was the best walking antidepressant in this office. Twenty seconds in his presence and your woes evaporated. "Just confirming my days off next week. I know the calendar is in the system, but—"
"Yeah, yeah, you're thorough that way."
"Jasper says I'm paranoid."
"Then come here and take a breather, Miss MBA. Have a seat." He waved at me to join him inside his office. "You're not leaving right now, are ya?"
"No. I'm taking off after lunch. I have time." I plopped into his visitor chair, tempted to bang my head against the desk.
The last six weeks had been brutal—between work and school, I'd barely had time to breathe, eat, sleep, and see Edward. I missed him so much—more than I thought I would by this point.
"Now, why would your jolly good minion call you paranoid?"
The thing about Alistair—you couldn't bullshit your way through things if he really wanted to know. And he made a point of checking on his people regularly.
"I may or may not have been a major pain in the ass about all the things he's supposed to do next week while I'm off."
Alistair leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Is there any reason to doubt Whitlock's performance in your absence?"
"No. He's wonderful. As usual," I admitted, my voice small and unsure.
Jazz and I had a mini-meltdown over my anxiety this morning. After I nagged him about all the things on his to-do list for next week, which I explained to him as if he were in kindergarten, he blew up, and told me in not so many words, to chill the fuck out.
"Then let him deal with that shit next week. You think about looking fantastic at your graduation and at the dinner party we're throwing for you."
I was about to answer something anodyne like, "Yes, sure, Alistair. I'll do that." Then, instead, his words sank in.
"Dinner party? What are you talking about? I'm going to dinner with my parents on Monday."
He shook his head, flashing me the smile of the cat that had just gobbled up the canary. "Nope."
"Wh-what? Party? Where? Why? Who?"
Without missing a beat, he answered all of my questions in one go, with his usual deadpan tone. "Yes. Private dinner at Ecco's. The Midtown one. Because we all love you, and you deserve to be celebrated. A select few—not the whole kit and caboodle."
"How did this even happen?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't reveal my sources. And before you get into a tizzy for not wanting to be the center of attention, let us do this for you. You've earned it. Now go grab your parents. I'll see you on Monday at Ecco's at six."
Class dismissed.
&&&StN&&&
When I picked up my parents at Hartsfield later that afternoon, I expected the barrage of questions after my announcement.
"Bells! Let us look at you!" my mom exclaimed, dropping her bag on my dad's feet and running toward me.
"Ouf." Actually, straight into me was more accurate. "Hey, Mom. How's things?"
She held me at arm's length, taking me in with her tender gaze. "You look so grown up, so professional."
"As she should, Renée," Dad added, in his usual half-deadpan and half-salty tone. "She knows she has to look the part."
My parents were a lovable conundrum. My mom had a sweet, creative, insightful, if somewhat haphazard personality, which made her a perfect school counselor; my dad was the epitome of "straight as an arrow," as the local chief of police in a small town where the crime rate was single digits. He tended to be the cynical, matter-of-fact side of their lopsided equation. She always saw the good in people—a bit of a Pollyanna spirit. And because I'd been an only child who didn't love the limelight and had no ambition of being a social butterfly, they'd left me to my own devices. Their mantra had always been, "ask for help if you need it." In time, I'd learned the satisfaction of figuring shit out for myself, and I'd stopped asking for help, which had sent my independent streak into overdrive.
As a result, I loved them fiercely, but didn't love them fussing over me one bit. It tended to stifle me after a while. I could also count on one hand the times they'd voluntarily visited me in Atlanta since I moved there. I was more than used to fending for myself.
"Hey, Dad. Caught any criminals lately?"
He gave me a one-armed hug and pat on the back, then smiled at me. "Joyriding high schoolers count?"
The image of anyone "joyriding" in Forks, WA—on the outskirts of Nowheresville—sent me into a fit of giggles. "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess?"
"Now, don't be a city slicker to your own father, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah, Dad. Follow me, let's get you settled."
I moved them from the busy arrivals lounge and directed them toward the parking structure. When we got to the car, Dad did a double take.
"I didn't know you'd bought a car. Nice wheels," he said appreciatively.
I popped open the trunk, and he helped load their luggage. "I didn't. It's Rose's car. She lent it to me for today."
"And you make do without a car in this place?" Mom asked.
"Two words, Mom. Public transportation. I can get wherever I need to go, and I don't have the fixed expense of a car. Don't need it right now. Hop in and I'll catch you up on plans while we drive to your hotel."
Dad took shotgun—the ingrained habit of a law enforcement guy with a tendency to act as a backseat driver.
"So, slight change in plans on Monday, and tonight," I announced.
"Ooh, anything exciting?" Mom's reaction was a perfect counterpoint to Dad's grunt.
"We're having dinner with Edward tonight. He wanted to meet you before the graduation mayhem."
"Who's Edwin, again?"
Mom snickered. "Charles, acting clueless doesn't become you. You know perfectly well who she's talking about."
"Do I?" he retorted. His salt and pepper mustache stretched into a straight line, but mischief sparkled in his deep brown eyes.
"Don't be a smartass, either," Mom chided him, which finally silenced him. "Go on, Bells."
"And for the record, Edward is my boyfriend. Which you know, but—"
He shook his head.
I barely saw it while I kept my eyes on the road.
"I don't know about this fellow, Bells. For one thing, you work for him."
"Way to judge a book by its cover, Dad. Why don't you meet the man before you pass judgment?"
He huffed, but stayed mum otherwise.
Tense silence followed for a few miles. I didn't know why Dad seemed dead set against Edward. Charlie Swan was a man of action who thought on his feet as a matter of course in his professional life, but when it came to his family, predictable and easy was the name of the game. That was why I'd come clean about my new relationship at the earliest chance I'd had—that way, my parents would have time to mull it over before they actually met my boyfriend. Now though, I was wondering if springing the news on them last minute would have been a better bet. No time to go down weird rabbit holes.
"What's the change in plans on Monday?" Mom asked, breaking the uneasy wall of silence between us.
"I just found out today, but the firm is throwing me a graduation party."
"Oh. That's very generous of them. So, no dinner with your parents?" Mom asked tentatively.
"No, Mom. Of course, you're both included. But there'll be a bunch of people from the office. And it's in a place I think you'll both like, close to your hotel. All in all, it's an upgrade."
Dad grumbled. "I don't know if I want to be social with all those people."
Now I'd had enough of the negativity. "Well, it'd be very ungrateful not to go, since they went to the trouble of organizing and paying for it. But you can be a wallflower for all I care. I'll be there with my friends and coworkers, celebrating that I'm fucking finally done with school."
"Language, young lady!" Charlie hissed.
I took a sharp turn off the freeway, headed to Midtown. For a second, I dreamed about catapulting my dad out of the car like in superhero movies. I relented just because I didn't want to wreck Rose's car.
"You're the one who's out of line, Chief. You're on my turf. Have some damn respect."
Mom didn't reply, but threw him the death glare of doom. The kind of stare that would relegate him to the couch if they were at home.
I'd drawn a line in the sand. I loved my parents, but I'd also grown a spine in seven years on my own. I wouldn't allow them to walk over me.
Especially when it came to Edward and my life in Atlanta.
Ouch. Charlie stepped right into it, uh?
More of the Swans next week.
Also, I post teasers and news about upcoming stories in my FB group - LaMomo's Lair (just type that in the search bar and you'll find it). Come and join the shenanigans!