Page 40 of The Weight Of It All
“Henry?”
I slowly closed my eyes and wondered if clicking my heels together three times and saying, “There’s no place like home,” would actually work. I opened my eyes to find I wasn’t Dorothy, and I was in fact still in Pitt Street. I put my hand on Reed’s arm. “Run for your life,” I whispered.
He stared at me with wide eyes. “Why?”
“Henry! Yoohoo!”
My shoulders sagged, and I could feel my soul being sucked out of my body. There was no escaping it. I sighed, resigned, and turned to face my accuser. “Mum!”
I should’ve realised. It was Sunday; we were out the frontof the Nespresso shop. My mother was dressed to the nines. My sister was with her. I kissed them both on the cheek. “George Clooney a no-show again?”
My mother sighed dramatically. “It’s false advertising. He’s there on the ads.” She looked up at Reed and smiled deliriously. “Now Henry, where are your manners? And who is this nice boy with his hand on you?”
Reed dropped his hand, and I withheld a sigh. “Yes, mum this is Reed. Reed, this is my mother, Rosemary, and my sister, Eadie.”
Both women stared up at him and smiled. Reed nodded politely. “Hello. Nice to meet you.” I gave him my best “I’m so sorry” eyes, but he just smiled like it was all the most natural thing in the world.
“Reed and I were just leaving,” I blurted out.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” my mother said. Then she gave me a once over. “Henry, you look great!”
“Well, you can thank Reed for that,” I said.
“I bet we can,” Eadie said with a sly smile.
I glared at her. “Not like that. He’s been helping me with my fitness.”
“I bet he has,” Eadie said, still smiling up at Reed. “Never really liked Graham much.”
“Eadie,” I warned. “Don’t you have another wedding to plan or something?”
“Oh, cut it out you two,” Mum said. Then she frowned at me and put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry about how things went with Graham. But you do look really good, Henry. You haven’t come over for dinner since you broke up with him. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I’ve been busy,” I lied.
“That’s no excuse, Henry,” Mum chastised. Then she looked at Reed. “He should’ve at least called me. I’ve been so worried.”
“Yes, Henry,” Reed agreed with a smirk. “You should have.”
I shot him a quick glare then smiled perfectly at my mother. “We really do have to get going. I’ll call you, I promise.”
I kissed them both on the cheek again and pretty much dragged Reed away by the arm. “It was nice to meet you,” he called out, and they stood there smiling at him and waving like schoolgirls with crushes.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I said as we hurried away.
“Why?” He looked amused by the whole thing. “Is there anyone else you’d like to run into today?”
“No thanks. I’m done for the year.”
“Not even George Clooney?” Reed asked. “Does your mum honestly think he’ll be at the Nespresso store because he’s on the ads on TV?”
I laughed at that. “She does. She’s even written letters to complain that it’s false advertising. Which is horribly embarrassing. But according to her, he’ll only be there on Sundays. God knows why. Actually, I think it’s a religious thing.”
“I can see that,” Reed said. He clearly thought the whole thing was funny. “The Church of George. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“Ah, so George’s your type?”
He glanced sidelong at me.
