Page 9 of Exposed

If she only knew. “I’m trying, Mom. I really am.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know your heart. Of course you’re doing all you can. I hope that woman lives long enough for you to make her dreams come true.”

I finish the dishes and flip off the water. I don’t need Trippy’s dreams weighing on my conscience any more than they already are. “How are you? What’s going on in the boondocks?”

“My poor garden is flooded. We’ve had more rain than my vegetables need. They need sun and heat. Dr. May is on vacation, so it’s slow in the office. I’m able to catch up on my beads. Oh, I’ve got some news for you! Remember Becca from high school? The one with the ugly soul? Well, she caught a bad case of the herpes—and I’m not talking a cold sore. I heard she got it when she cheated on her husband.” Mom pauses and whispers the second bit of news. “I expect a divorce announcement anytime.”

“Mom, you know that little thing called HIPAA? You’re going to lose your job and have to live off selling tomatoes on the corner. And you don’t know anything about her soul. I honestly haven’t thought about her in years.”

Mom runs the office for a family doctor in town.

Mom also likes to talk.

“You live in Miami. Who are you gonna tell, the sweet little lizards? And her soul is ugly. I can feel it every time she comes in. She spread that rumor about you in high school that you were bullying her little sister just so people wouldn’t vote for you for homecoming queen! She almost stole your crown. Thank goodness her little sister had enough of her and put an end to that. You wouldn’t bully a goat if it was trying to headbutt you. It’s the way I raised you. It’s also why I can violate HIPAA laws and know that you’ll keep the secret.”

I move to the bathroom and put her on speaker while I brush my hair into a high pony. “If you see her, tell her I said hi.”

Mom barks a ridiculous laugh. “I’ll do no such thing. I did tellher that you’re living your best life in Miami. I might have told her that you met Shakira at one of your events.”

I tie my hair up. “You need to quit lying. It’s becoming a problem.”

“Shakira lives in Miami,” she defends herself. “It could happen.”

I study my chin in the mirror. With all the stress of Daniel, Trippy, and Dex, I think I’m getting a pimple. “Why don’t we let my dreams come to fruition before we make claims like that.”

“I’m manifesting for you. No need to get into the nitty-gritty, Goldie.”

“The truth is not nitty-gritty. The truth is the truth.”

“I’m not sure how you came out so good. I can only claim so much of it. It sure as heck was not your father. I’d spit on his grave if I was bothered enough to visit it. It’s a good thing he left us high and dry when he did. You’re a better person because he was too much of a bonehead to be a part of your life. At least he remembered you in his will.”

“I had you, Mom. You’re all I ever needed.”

“And you’ll always have me.”

“I’ve got to go. I’m going for a walk before I need to make some phone calls.” Especially the call I’ve been putting off. If Dex doesn’t get back to me before the end of the day, I’m going to have to tell Daniel Armstrong I’m not able to get us into The Pink.

“Get your steps in. You’ll thank me when you’re my age. And you better bet I’ll still be around then to bug you about it. Who knows, you might just attract the man of your dreams with your nice legs.”

“Walking is good for my heart and clears my mind. I walk for me, not a future man.”

“For someone who loves love and weddings so much, you aren’t trying very hard,” Mom mutters.

What I don’t say to her is trying is what got her involved withmy sperm donor who left her high and dry with a baby. “I’m not trying to find a man. When it happens, it’ll be kismet. Real love should never be forced.”

“I agree. Kismet and good legs. You’ll do far better than I did.”

“I’ll call you later. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Goldielocks.”

My mother’s nickname for me is in spirit only since there’s nothing golden about me. My hair is so dark, it’s black without the light of day on it. Even my outlook on life isn’t at all golden anymore.

I slap on some sunscreen and throw on a hat and shades before I grab my key. I’m out the door and down the steps when I see Mr. Elrod, my downstairs neighbor.

He’s lived at Colony Park since it opened. He sold shoes at Nordstrom for years until he retired. At least, he was supposed to retire, but then the little corner grocery around the block offered him a job, so now he stocks produce for fun three mornings a week and gets paid for it. He knows everything about everyone and tells everyone else what he knows.

He and Mom would entertain each other for hours on end with gossip. I really need to get her down here to visit, but the last time she got on a plane was when she hooked up with my father. She said the thought of stepping on a plane gives her PTSD, and she might end up on the news.

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