Page 26 of Hottie on Her Shelf
“I know I lucked out with Mom and Dad.” Hallie hip-checked her as they opened the gate and walked up the crushed oyster path. “Just as lucky as I am to have you as my very best friend.”
“Buttering me up? You must really think they’re going to pile on with the congrats for your candidacy. Frankly, I hope you’re right. Your mom makes a great cake. I’ll bet this is a celebration worthy of a pineapple upside-down cake.”
“Oh, there’ll be cake. Maybe even the matching celebration app of onion dip and chips.”
That was the sole perk of being an only child. Her parents smothered her with love and praise. It was uncomfortable at times. Mostly good. Hallie was quite certain that constant building up of her confidence by them was the reason she’d had the strength to stand up to Fitz and Derek and leave her name on the ballot.
She couldn’t wait to thank them for it.
And if she was honest with herself, she’d come home tonight needing a full dose of parental pumping-up, no matter how much she said otherwise to Megan. After feeling like a failure at the campaign kickoff, Hallie needed to hear that she was still smart and would wipe the floor with Fitz Montgomery.
The front door swung open before they even got to the steps. Her mom wore an apron over her brown jumpsuit uniform, but…no scent of pineapple goodness wafted out from behind her. “Get in here, girls. You don’t want the neighbors gawking.”
Megan kissed her cheek. “I kind of do, Mrs. S, or I wouldn’t have dyed my hair blue.”
“They’ve got enough to talk about already.” She lightly whipped her kitchen towel at Hallie to hurry them along.
Hallie stopped in the hallway next to the coatrack, which was full even though it was May. There weren’t enough closets in the tiny house to begin with, let alone a spare to corral all the coats Maine’s weather necessitated. “Uh, hi, Mom. Geez. Don’t I get a hug?”
“Your father’s waiting in the living room.”
Ahhh. She got it. This was a surprise party thing. She and Megan dropped their purses along the wall and brushed past the pot-bellied stove in its brick alcove.
Gene Scott sat in his prized recliner. The one that even when he was at work, Hallie hadn’t been allowed to use, for fear she’d wear it out too soon. His gray hair was slicked back from his usual post-work shower. Fishermen never smelled good after a long day’s work—unless it’d been a bad day’s work.
“Hi, Dad.” Hallie started over to kiss him, but he just pointed at the couch.
Okay. Strange. She and Megan dropped into the spots they’d used their whole lives. Her mom sat in the wing chair. Now what?
Oh.
Maybe they hadn’t heard about the mayor’s race yet. Maybe they were worried about whatever drove her to surprise them with a mid-week visit. There’d been no intention to give them a scare. Hallie had assumed the word would’ve spread—as it always did—between the neighboring towns.
“Thanks for letting us come over for dinner. I needed to see you guys.”
“That goes for me, too.” The Scotts treated Megan as if she were Hallie’s sister.
Gene wiped a hand across his mouth. “We know why you’re here.”
“Do you?” They weren’t just playing it cool. They were playing it vampirically dead cool. “Well, just to make sure we’re on the same page, I have news. I’m running for mayor of Swan Cove.”
“We know.”
If anything, their furrowed brows had gone a furrow deeper. Her parents radiated disapproval and disappointment. Hallie looked at Megan. All she got was a WTF is going on squint in return.
And she was suddenly quite certain there wasn’t any cake on tonight’s menu.
“What’s the matter? My whole life, you’ve celebrated my achievements. Applauded each and every step toward success.” They’d been so proud when she officially “got out” via scholarships. Even prouder when Hallie had landed a coveted job in Swan Cove. They’d never once expressed any concern that she was aiming too high, or getting ahead of herself. “This is a big step.”
Her mom nodded repeatedly, faster than a bobblehead. “It sure is. The trouble is, you don’t have the right shoes for that step.”
Huh?
“Don’t worry, Mrs. S. I’m going to work with Hallie to put together a wardrobe for her campaign events. Make sure she spiffs it up a bit.” Megan covered the ends of her colorful braids to hide them. “Classy, of course. No flash.”
This was the first Hallie was hearing of Megan’s plan.
It didn’t thrill her. Mostly due to her strong No Help stance, somewhat because it was insulting. She was thirty years old. She could dress herself just fine. And lastly due to not having any expendable income to waste on new clothes. Everything Hallie saved was earmarked for a trip to Venice. It was sinking by two millimeters a year. Time was of the essence.
