Page 42 of Having the Time of My Midlife

There was more to it than that. I was connected to my child on a very deep level. It wasn’t explainable, but it didn’t need to be explained. It was what it was and it was beautiful.

“Alrightyroo,” Gram said, doing a little jazz square and getting whoops and yee-haws from the crowd. “What happened when the skunk wrote a book?”

“Don’t know,” a squeaky voice called out.

Gram dropped her broom and slapped her hands onto her hips. “Well, I do! It became a best-smeller!”

The clapping was loud. The laughs were louder. Gram had them eating out of her hand. “And to finish up my set, I got one more for ya!”

The audience cheered. Not a single skunk was armed anymore. The weapons had been neatly placed under their chairs. So far, so good.

Alana Catherine whispered in my ear. “Spiritually, skunks symbolize fearlessness, protection and balance. The black and white of their fur embodies the balance between the dark and the light.”

“Dude, daughter,” I said with an amazed laugh. “I hate to be a broken record, but how do you know that? That doesn’t sound like Jennifer trivia.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe Tim? But, really, I don’t have a clue. The answers just keep coming to me. It’s kind of handy, though. Right?”

“Right,” I agreed, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“One more thing,” she said with a scheming expression on her gorgeous face.

I stared at her. I couldn’t read her mind, but I had a very good idea of what she was about to say.

“You want a pet skunk,” I stated with a mini eye roll.

She laughed. “I want a pet skunk.”

“You’re gonna have to ask your dad about that,” I replied, avoiding the issue with what I thought was finesse.

“Pretty sure dad is wrapped around my finger,” she pointed out.

This time I laughed. “Pretty sure you’re correct.”

My girl was a sly one. But… I wouldn’t mind a pet skunk either as long as it didn’t have a stinker, grenades or a sword.

Gram hustled back over with a self-satisfied smirk. “Restin’ bitch faces are gone! I right like them little critters. Wouldn’t mind having a skunk as a pet.”

Alana looked at me with a raised brow.

“Crazy runs in the family,” I muttered.

“Five minutes until show time,” a harried woman yelled, running onto the stage with a clipboard in her hand.

The lights on the stage grew brighter and made me squint. Canned elevator music came from invisible speakers hidden in the walls, and a large camera on a tripod appeared from out of nowhere and landed at the edge of the stage.

The woman running around was a hot mess. Tall but hunched over. Most of her hair had escaped her ponytail and hung in her face. Her headset held some of it back, but most ofher face was obscured. Her jeans were frayed, and her t-shirt was half tucked.

“Bad juju,” Gram whispered.

I didn’t get that feeling, but I wasn’t second-guessing the woman who’d raised me. “You think she’s the Higher Power?” I asked so softly Gram and Alana Catherine had to lean in to hear me.

“Don’t know,” Gram said.

“No,” Alana Catherine said firmly at the same time.

Whatever she was, she seemed to be in charge. She eyed us with exasperation. “You couldn’t have worn something more colorful?” she snapped. “Black doesn’t look great on film. It’s a game show, not a funeral.”

“We didn’t know we were going to be on a game show,” I explained in a polite tone. I was sure pissing anyone off here wouldn’t go over well.

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