Page 7 of From Helsinki with Love
“Hello, Mother dearest,” I greet her, who picked the ringtone as a joke years ago. Despite my current mortification, I actually love my mom, trust me.
“Hello, Pumpkin. Are you already at the airport?”
“Yeah, I got here around half an hour ago. Lottie gave me a ride,” I explain, as I hadn’t shared that with her before.
“How lovely of her. She’s such a sweet girl.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom, we’re grownups, so you can’t call her a girl.”
“I surely can. I’ve seen her wearing a tutu while eating grass and dirt in our backyard.”
Lottie and I have been best friends since we were toddlers, so that tracks. “Remind me of that tomorrow, and I’ll share that little blast from the past with her.”
“Sure. There was a reason why I called…Did you pack your black and white or that elderberry-colored jacket and pants set for snowboarding?”
“I packed the elderberry one.”
“That’s good, so I’ll be fine wearing my light pink winter clothes, then.”
“Since when have you owned a jacket and pants set for outdoors?” I ask, my wonderment evident in my voice.
“Well, I thought I would try skiing or something.” That makes me want to laugh, my mom has never been a fan of outdoor activities in wintry weather. “I needed something warm to wear as I haven’t been anywhere freezing in ages.”
“You visited me in New York last winter.”
“It isn’t the same as Lapland during the holidays.”
She still thinks I’m a newbie with the entire ski and snowboarding scene, but I’m far from it. “I know,I’mthe one who goes snowboarding in Vermont monthly and the Rockies or Canada twice a season. Remember?”
“That’s true. Anyway, I’ll finish packing, and then it’s time for bed, so we’ll be up bright and early.”
“Don’t forget to pack a swimming suit for the private sauna at the resort.”
“I have two one-piece suits packed. And your dad finally got a new pair to replace the old Speedos.”
Thank god, I think to myself. “That sounds great, Mom!”
“Have a relaxing flight, Pumpkin. We’ll see you tomorrow evening in Helsinki.”
“Thanks. I can’t wait to see you both.”
The call disconnects, and I smile warmly. I love spending time with my parents, even if it sometimes gets to be too much, as they are still madly in love after forty-two years of marriage. The amount of PDA I have witnessed during my lifetime is astounding and slightly embarrassing at times.
But I don’t blame them. The love story of my parents, Gord and Millie Powers, is so sweet that the dentists hate it passionately. It also has set me high expectations of love, which makes me wonder why I stayed with Tucker that long.
My parents had me later in life after falling in love at their workplace. The entire meet cute sounds like one of those romcoms Lottie loved watching every weekend when we were roommates in college. My dad Gordon Wardell Powers III, the son of a former Vice President of the United States, saw my mom Milica Valentina Novak, the daughter of two Croatian immigrants, during a coffee break at work. His eyes found hers in a crowded room, and the rest is history.
There were many rounds of infertility treatments until I was finally born healthy, weighing a whopping ten pounds. My poor mother is a tiny woman with narrow hips, so I wonder how I even managed to come out…but maybe that isn’t my top priority right now. Because I can hear a glass of wine or two, probably three, calling my name. It’s time to find the lounge area and relax before my flight.
A REAL-LIFE HOCKEY HUNK
VIVIAN
Ionce read that the odds of dying in a plane crash are 1 in 11 million or something similar. The same number for a car crash is 1 in 103 for any given year in the US. It would make sense if I feared driving instead of flying. But no. Every time I have to catch a flight, I need time to prepare for it mentally for days and do daily breathing exercises.
Alcohol helps, too—at least that’s what I keep telling myself as I order my third glass of Pinot Grigio while sitting in the airport lounge. I’ll be visiting the tiny airplane toilet a lot later, for sure. But my nerves will be calmer than they were two hours ago.
There’s movement on my left side that catches my eye. Looking that way, I’m not ready for what I am seeing. I mean, damn, my ovaries just burst over the wet dream that takes the seat next to me.
