Her whole motto is kindness, and that’s really the sort of thing I could use today, so I tap Ben on the elbow—just enough to let him know I’m about to leave his ass behind—and make a straight beeline for the friendly looking woman in blue.
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I notice that Harrison has used the opportunity to follow me from a respectable distance rather than staying behind in the group.
I’m sure Heidi wouldn’t appreciate his go-get-’em attitude, but I sure do.
“Oh my God,” the sweet reporter with medium brown hair and bright blue eyes says as I stop in front of her and smile. “You’re…you’re Raquel Weaver.”
I nod and giggle. “I am. What’s your name?”
“Helena Veroma. Oh my gosh! I’m such a big fan of yours! You have no idea! Gah! I swear, I watched every episode of Home Sweet Home when I was growing up.”
My smile deepens without effort as soft, warm memories of my time on a wholesome show fill my mind. It was a great time—a time before life got messy and complicated and lonely. And I was just a kid—too young and too innocent to be asked on the daily about my sex life.
Having someone recognize me for that rather than a steamy collection of sexy roles feels good. Really good.
“Aw! Thank you so much! The time I spent on that show was honestly some of the best in my life.” In the early years of Home Sweet Home, when Luca and I had just started out, our little family of four was still an actual family.
Helena smiles so big I can almost see all of her teeth. “And now you’re starting a family of your own! That must be so exciting! I know you’ve had some speed bumps with it, but I just have to tell you that we—the world,” she says with a self-conscious laugh, “if I can speak for us as a whole—we’re so happy for you!”
The genuine desire to speak with me instead of at me feels palpable—real—and it’s almost like a Venus flytrap. I don’t want to move on to speak with anyone else, though Heidi is now in front of me, waving me forward. I want to stay right here and become friends with this woman who cares enough to treat me like a human being.
“I can’t tell you what that means to me,” I say, instead of pulling her into the bone-crushing hug I’d like to. I can only imagine how the rest of the press would react, and I really don’t want to drag her into that kind of a mess.
But I’ll remember her for a long time, and I don’t hesitate to tell her so. “I’m so glad Beth sent you out here and that I’ve had the chance to meet you. I hope I get to see you again sometime, Helena.”
“Really? I did okay? I didn’t mess it up too bad?” she asks with a self-conscious smile.
“Are you kidding? You killed it. Easily the best, most enjoyable interview I’ve ever done at one of these things. And trust me,” I say with a little wink, “I’ve done a lot.”
She drops her face into her hands and squeals. “Thank God! I’m just a mom from Idaho. I don’t know anything about interviewing celebrities, really.”
“I think you know better than most,” I say, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “You’re real and genuine and sweet and fun. I wish more of the reporters here were. For example, I’m pretty sure you’ll understand when I tell you that I really have to pee.”
Her head jerks up and her eyebrows climb to her hairline, but her smile is still friendly. I shift from one foot to the other as a raging burn makes its way from the top of my bladder to the very apex of my vagina. The urge to go is so bad, it’s like I’ve been holding it for nine straight hours. In reality, I went right before I got in the car and largely rationed fluids. Yet, I currently feel like a water balloon that’s stretched to max capacity.
“Like, really, really have to pee,” I whisper through a half giggle, half groan. “The baby is dancing on my bladder and this dress is tight, and I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m going to make it through the mess of getting to the bathroom and getting out of this thing in time.”
“I had three accidents when I was pregnant with my first,” she admits sweetly. “Just hike it up from the bottom, and go now. Don’t even pause to talk to anyone else.”
“I’m not really sure how I’m going to—”
“I’ll come up with something if I have to,” Helena says with a reassuring smile. “Just go, honey. I certainly didn’t like pissing myself when I was pregnant with my boys, and I didn’t have a hundred cameras pointed at me. I can only imagine it would be worse for you.”