Chapter Sixteen
Nick
I feel a twinge of guilt when I drop off Bethany at the B & B. It’s a nice place, but this isn’t how I wanted this weekend with my girlfriend to go. She’s supposed to be with me, not staying in a quaint inn on the other side of town. As usual, my mom’s timing is impeccable.
“Should I count on you for breakfast tomorrow?”
She pauses as she reaches for the door handle. “I think I’ll take advantage of the B & B breakfast so you and your mom can enjoy some time together.”
Extending a restraining hand, I rest my fingers lightly on her arm. “Hey, I want to spend as much time with you as possible...Reconsider?”
She pauses for a few seconds before replying. “It’s inconvenient for you to drive over and pick me up before you two eat. I’ll just stay here and try Caroline’s breakfast, since it comes highly recommended.” Her tone sounds upbeat, but her smile isn’t as bright as usual.
I probably shouldn’t have bragged about the B & B’s breakfast. That has backfired for sure.
“Call me when you’re ready. I’ve got several fun things planned for tomorrow.” Leaning across the console, I pull her closer and plant a kiss on those luscious lips. After we pull apart, she’s smiling, and her face is flushed.
I give myself a mental fist pump. She’s going to dream about me after that kiss.
“See you tomorrow.” She slides out, waves, and disappears inside the cozy inn. I’m already counting the seconds until I see her tomorrow.
***
There’s a crick in my neck and my back aches the next morning. Cramming my six-foot frame into the confines of this tiny sofa makes me feel like a human pretzel. After a couple of stretches, I feel better, but sleeping on this couch for a month is going to be torture.
I wonder if Bethany is enjoying breakfast at the B & B? Caroline’s spread always gets rave, 5-star reviews. Knowing my girlfriend is in for a culinary treat lessens my guilt over sending her to the inn. In hindsight, should I have insisted that my mom be the one staying at the inn and not Bethany? That would have gone over like finding a hair in the soup. Plus, I have to live with my mom for a month. No need to have her upset with me the whole time.
After second-guessing myself for a few seconds, I decide to move on. Bethany volunteered to stay at the inn. Done is done. Now, what’s for breakfast?
A half-hour later, my mom wanders into the kitchen. She looks like she just came from the beauty salon. Every hair is in place and her pressed slacks and neatly tucked button-down shirt look too fussy for the activities I have planned for today. I’ll encourage her to change before we leave to pick up Bethany. I wonder whether my mom even owns a pair of jeans. Probably only the designer label ones.
“Good morning!” she chirps while giving me a quick hug. She’s chipper this morning, which helps lift my mood. Despite her just showing up, I love my mom dearly and I’m happy to see her.
“The quiche is in the oven and should be done in a few minutes. How about a cup of coffee?”
“You know the answer to that,” she teases.
We sip hazelnut flavored coffee in companionable silence for a few minutes. Looking out the window, there’s still colorful remnants from what must have been a stunning sunrise, the yellow, pink, and blue streaks haven’t faded yet. This is my favorite time of day. I wish Bethany was here to share it.
“Nick, how serious are you about Bethany?”
The interrogation is not unexpected, but I still flinch. My mom’s tone smacks of disapproval and disappointment. I mentioned Bethany to her in a casual conversation, but we had just met. I didn’t know things would become serious so quickly.
I take a long sip of coffee. “We’ve been dating for about a month, and I like her—a lot.” I don’t mention that I took Bethany to the Food Network Gala. That would only add fuel to the fire and make my mom think I’m ready to propose.
My mom blows out a long-suffering puff of air. “I’m sure she’s a perfectly lovely person. But what do you two have in common? Erica and you were an ideal match. I was hoping the two of you would get back together.”
Ah hah! The purpose of my mom’s visit just became crystal clear.
Erica Ridell is the chef I dated for about a year. At one point I thought I was in love with her. But I eventually realized that she liked me for my connections and not because she likedme. It was the last straw when she dated a fellow chef—and someone I thought was my friend—behind my back. When word got back to me, I was crushed. After our breakup, I had time to reflect and I came to grips that Erica and I weren’t good for each other. We are too much alike. We clashed over things like ingredients and cooking technique. There were no tingles or heart flips when we kissed. Something that Bethany and I unquestionably have.
My mom and Erica hit it off immediately because they both love designer clothes and being seen at fancy events. Neither one of them travels anywhere without an overabundance of suitcases. Truth be told, my mom was more upset over the breakup than I was.
“Mom, Erica and I aren’t getting back together.” My eyes drill into hers as I continue in a stern voice, “I’m excited to see where my relationship with Bethany leads.”
She shakes her head. “Nicholas, you’re just infatuated with her. Please take your time and don’t do anything rash. I think you’ll realize that without common interests, you don’t have a solid foundation to build a relationship on.”
I bite my tongue. This advice is coming from a woman whose been married and divorced three times.
“On the other hand, you and Erica—"
I hold up my hand to cut her off. “I hope after you get to know Bethany, you’ll realize how special she is and how much I care for her.”
My mom’s left eyebrow hitches towards her hairline, but she doesn’t comment.
Ding!
The timer for the quiche rings just in the nick of time. I jump up to remove it from the oven. “This is a new recipe. I’d love your feedback.” I quickly dish up the cheesy, egg dish. Hopefully, the interrogation is over, and this keeps her mind off my new girlfriend. Once she gets to know Bethany, I’m sure she’ll like her as much as I do.