Page 11 of Hale Yes
Rory drones on for a few minutes, and I attempt to not nod off.
I’m startled back into the conversation when my father asks, “Nicci, how is your work going?”
Dragging a small potato through the brown gravy, I answer. “It’s going well. I’ve proposed a new product line I’m really excited about with?—”
“I had two new clients this week, Daddy,” Angelica interrupts, and I pop the potato into my mouth so I don’t sigh. Maybe if I stick it really far in, I’ll choke and then have an excuse to leave.
But Pop smiles indulgently. “That’s great, baby. Your beauty shop is really growing, huh?”
Ma looks like she’s about to pee herself with excitement, which usually means she’s about to jab a thinly veiled insult my way. “Everyone adores our little Angelica,” she coos, stroking my sister’s long blonde hair. “Such a sweet personality and a smart businesswoman to boot. I certainly wish Nicolette had inherited some of my business sense.”
I don’t react because it’s what she wants.
“Ahh, I think Nicci is doing fine,” my father says, turning his questioning green eyes on me. “Aren’t you? You don’t talk much about your job.”
With an indulgent smile, I say, “Everything’s fine, Pop. How is the store doing?”
That gets him going until dinner is almost done. He and Ma started Bell Hardware about twenty years ago after Pop got laid off from his carpentry job, and he loves talking about screws, paint, and all manner of household repairs.
When my mother begins to serve the pineapple upside down cake for dessert, Rory pipes up. “Angelica is going to that big hair expo in Trenton in a few weeks. But don’t worry about her, Mr. and Mrs. Bell. I’ll drive her to make sure she gets there safely.”
“Such a darling boy,” Ma purrs at him. “Taking care of our baby girl.”
I think I should receive an award for not mentioning that thirty-five is hardly a baby.
“Of course,” the kiss-ass replies. “Anything I can do for my sweetheart.”
“I wish Nicolette could find a nice boy like you.”
Again, I restrain myself from pointing out that I did, in fact, have that exact same “nice boy,” and then Angelica got jealous and decided she wanted him. Not that I’m sad about it. Sure, I was hurt at first, especially when Ma told me I shouldn’t make a fuss about Rory cheating on me with my own sister. Because…family is family, Nicolette.
When I look at him now, all I feel is relief. Rory’s a brown-nosing douche with a small dick. Also, his last name is Clutterbuck, though in my head I call him Clusterfuck to amuse myself.
Again, Pop attempts to bring me into the conversation. “Nicci, don’t you have an, um, expo or something coming up?”
I poke at a syrupy cherry on my plate. “It was last week. The American Academy of Clinical Biochemistry conference.”
My dad smiles warmly. “And didn’t you tell me you were teaching one of the classes?”
“I was the lecturer for two of the seminars,” I reply, forking up a bite of the buttery crust.
“Well, isn’t that something,” he says proudly. “What were the classes about?”
Since he seems genuinely interested, I tell him, “The first was on the use of biomolecules in the cosmetics industry, and the other focused on the effects of isopropylparaben and isobutylparaben in skin care products.”
My glance around the table is met with blank stares, so I explain. “Isopropylparaben and isobutylparaben are examples of what are commonly known as parabens. Chemically speaking, those are esters of parahydroxybenzoic acid and are often used in cosmetics, food, and pharmaceuticals as a preservative due to their antimicrobial benefits. They help to extend the shelf life of products.”
“And are these parabens… bad?” Pop asks, and I toggle my head from side to side a couple times.
“Not necessarily. Some foods like barley and blueberries have naturally occurring parabens, but the two I focused on have suspected links to infertility and cancer. They’re absorbed through the skin and can integrate themselves into the body’s tissues, specifically breast tissue.”
“Oh my!” Ma clutches her pearls.
I shift my eyes between her and Angelica. “Make sure to check the labels of your makeup, lotions, and other products. I’ll send you a text with the ingredients to look out for.” They both nod silently.
Rory shovels in a big bite of cake and talks around it. “Where was your conference, Ni—oof.” He’s cut off by an elbow in theside from my sister. She doesn’t like any attention on anyone but herself, especially from Rory.
I answer anyway. “It was in L.A.”
