5. Bertram
Bertram
“Idon’t know why you’re so upset,” Jennie said.
Her light tone made it seem as though Bertram were being the ridiculous one, even though it was Jennie who had just thrown Bertram’s ex in his face with zero warning.
Helena had looked to Bertram to be a ghost when she showed up, wearing the exact same blue cotton-knitted beanie and green winter coat he had seen her wear dozens of times over the years. As if they hadn’t spent a day apart. As if nothing had changed.
Jennie shook her head. “You kept complaining about wanting to limit team size—now here we are! You, me, Helena. No one else. Just like the old days.”
Bertram swallowed. Part of him wanted to tell his mother it could never be “like the old days” ever again.
Bertram understood why his mother was charmed by Helena’s wit and seeming compassion. He used to feel the same way. But then he learned that Helena was great at telling People what they wanted to hear, while actually believing something completely different the whole time.
Jennie would be crushed if she knew the sort of things Helena really believed.
Especially when it came to Jennie’s own family.
To her own son.
“This isn’t my only active research site, you know,” Jennie continued. “I was hoping to visit some of the others. You would be left in charge while I was gone.”
Bertram huffed. “That’s not fair—”
“But I can’t leave things in your hands if you can’t get along with your fellow researchers—and all because you and Helena engaged in sexual intercourse!”
“Mother!” Bertram flushed a deep green. “That’s not what this is about!”
“Right, sorry,” Jennie said. “All because you and Helena stopped engaging in sexual intercourse.”
Bertram buried his face in his hands. “It’s none of those things.”
“Are you sure?” Jennie asked. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m blushing because my mother is trying to discuss—to discuss sexual intercourse with me!”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Jennie waved her hand dismissively. “You’re acting as if I’m trying to pry salacious details from you like it’s an Enthouse Forum letter. I’m simply trying to ascertain what your issue is with Doctor de Narbon.”
“Doctor de Narbon.” Bertram snorted. “She’s a medical doctor. Not a PhD.”
Jennie laughed. “That may have just been the first time in history that someone compared the two with derision for the medical doctorate.”
Bertram remained unfazed by her quip. “And if we were in a human hospital, I would give her all the respect she would deserve.”
“Bertram. Some of my PhD students only have undergraduate degrees. Ignoring her medical doctorate, her bachelor’s in Magibiology alone qualifies her for this position. And you know better than anyone that she’s the coauthor of several papers published in very reputable journals.”
“Because you happened to meet her and like her,” Bertram mumbled.
“Hey!” Jennie’s voice was suddenly harsh. “Helena is hardworking, dedicated, compassionate, and, frankly, a genius. Whatever interpersonal issues the two of you are dealing with—or not dealing with, as the case may be—I will absolutely not tolerate you slandering her work.”
Bertram fell silent. Nothing his mother said was untrue, and he felt ashamed that he had insinuated otherwise.
He had had many issues with Helena over the years, but the quality of her scientific work had never been one of them.
It was childish of him to insinuate that she was anything less than exemplary at her job.
Bertram was supposed to be better than that.
It was Helena who was the petty, judgmental one. He shouldn’t stoop to her level.
“Give me one good reason that Doctor de Narbon shouldn’t be my research assistant on this study,” Jennie said.
Bertram hesitated. He had a good reason—a really, really good reason. And he could give it to his mother and shatter her heart . . . or else he could allow the treacherous Helena to worm her way back into both of their lives, when he had worked so hard to rid himself of even the memory of her.
Would it be petty of him to burst his mother’s perfect but so very wrong vision of who Helena truly was? Or would it be protecting his mother from future heartbreak, the way he wished he could have protected himself?
Bertram took a deep breath, struggling with his decision—
“I’m staying.”
Bertram turned to see Helena striding toward them, looking as determined as Bertram had ever seen her.
“You’re right, Dr. J,” Helena said. “You so graciously invited me on this project, and it would be absurd of me to reject your offer.”
Helena spoke exclusively to Jennie, not even glancing at Bertram. But he had a feeling the words were as much for him as they were for his mother.
“I love owl-bears more than anyone else I know,” Helena continued, “plus I would hate to leave you scrambling for personnel; I would never want to seem ungrateful for your help with my scientific career.”
Bertram snorted. Helena could pander all she wanted; Bertram knew how she truly felt.
But Jennie didn’t. And Jennie wouldn’t, not until Bertram spoke up and told her.
“Well, I guess that settles that!” Jennie grinned. “Unless, Bertram . . . ?”
Bertram hesitated, then shook his head, resigned once more to silence.
He had already been torn as to whether or not to say anything, and now it seemed the choice had been made for him. He would stay quiet about his sordid past with Helena, about Helena’s true nature.
For now, at least.
“Excellent!” Jennie clapped her hands. “Bertram, why don’t you put dinner on? And Helena? You go unpack. Settle in. We’re here for the long haul.”
Bertram wasn’t sure whose smile was brighter, Helena’s or Jennie’s.
All he knew was that he and Helena were on a collision course for disaster, and if Jennie was the only one around to stop them . . . they weren’t going to be stopped.