Page 113 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Your profile picture, er, avatar?”
Oh. Right.I fake a laugh as my hand flutters to my chest. I look at my hand as if some alien life form has taken over my body and turned me into a swooning Southern belle.Is it actuallyfluttering?!
“Oh, that. Right. I get that a lot,” I say, dropping my voice into a slightly deeper register. It makes Jack look up, his expression saying he’s as confused by my voice as I am by my inexplicable hand fluttering. “How can I help you, Mr. Hawthorne?”
“Actually, I need a favor. I know this is completely inappropriate, and I promise I will compensate you for your time. But I’m stranded in Hendersonville with a blown tire and no car jack to help me change it. I’m hoping you’re close enough to give me a hand?”
“Oh, I don’t know anything about changing tires.” Apparently, I am both a Southern belle and a complete idiot.
I can change a tire. I can change ALL my tires if I need to.
I didn’t always love being a military wife, but it did teach me how to get stuff done.
“Right. I don’t need you tochangethe tire, but if you have a jack I could borrow, that would be great.”
“A jack.” I sit down. Stand back up. Sit down again.
“Mommy?” Jack says.
“You know what?” Perry says, backpedaling. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think I’ll have to wait too much longer for roadside assistance to show up.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” I practically shout into my phone. “I can bring you a jack!”
“What?” Jack says, dropping his cards. “You can bring me where?” He stands up. “Who are you talking to, Mommy?”
“Notyou,Jack,ajack,” I whisper to him, shooing him back into his seat.
“What was that?” Perry said.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” I say. “You need a jack. I have a jack.”
“Great,” he says after a long pause. “Should I, um, text you my location?”
“Yep. Perfect. I’ll be right there.”
As soon as the call ends, I bluster around the apartment, picking up couch cushions and folding blankets. Jack, clearly sensing that something is up, jumps up beside me, gathering his cards and putting away his backpack.
Wait.Wait.I’m not bringing Perry backhere.Which means I’m just being a dummy. Cleaning because I’m nervous about coming face to face with my boss.
My hand does that stupid fluttering thing again, landing on my hair, which—ohhhhmy hair! I dash to the bathroom, checking my reflection. It is . . . not awful? It could be worse, anyway.
Then I remember Perry’s comment from earlier.You sound younger than your avatar.Maybe it doesn’t matter what my hair looks like. Perry is expecting a pearl-wearing, gray-haired grandma. Maybe the surprise of seeing me instead will negate any judgment he might make on my less-than-stellar messy bun and almost completely bare face.
“Mommy?” Jack says again. “Do we have to go somewhere?”
Oh man.WE do have to go somewhere. Because Jack goes everywhere I go.
Which means my boss is about to learn that I’m not a grandmaandthat I have a kid all at once.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.
Logically, I recognize I’m being silly. Assistants and bosses work together in person all the time. They know about each other’s families. Kids. Spouses. Even pets. It’s notweirdto know personal details about the lives of the people you work with. And I’ve been hoping for opportunities to get to know Perry better.
But the concept felt easier behind a mask of anonymity that allowed me to be bold without feeling vulnerable. That little gray-haired avatar lulled me into a comfort I didn’t recognize I was enjoying until now, when I’m faced with the mask’s imminent removal.
Truth is, my reality requires that I be more cautious, more vigilant in vetting the people I let into my very small circle. I’m all Jack has to protect him. I can’t just let anybody in.
But Marley did say the Hawthornes are good people. And so far, Perry has been nothing but polite. Cold. A little stiff. But perfectly professional and respectful.
