Page 5 of Mic Drop

I don’t have time to reply when she adds, “I mean, having black widow spiders all over would be a deterrent to anyone needing physical therapy, isn’t it? Have you completed your mission andbroken up the best band on the planet? Untamed Coaster was getting everything together, but you had to go and ruin it for all of us, didn’t you?”

Leaping to my feet, I abandon my meal and leave the awful woman standing next to my table. The café, which I thought was quaint with its seating open to the terminal, has nowhere to hide, not even a bathroom.

Add hungry to my long list of wretched emotions.

Thankfully, the woman with the leather bags doesn’t come to the helicopter check in. With dragging feet, I wait to board, keeping as low of a profile as possible. Luck is with me because no one else approaches, and the ride is uneventful.

Yet another taxi takes me to Ma’s dark house. I’m sure she’s asleep—after all, only rock stars and vampires are up at this time of the morning. Leaving my luggage, I proceed to the back and lift up the birdhouse to retrieve the spare key.

Within minutes, I’m inside and absorbing the familiar smells. Now that I’m here, I find myself unable to rush to her side and get the details. Instead, I stop in front of framed photos from when I was a child on the beach. Building a snowman. Walking across the stage getting my physical therapy degree. Kara’s in other pictures, including the ones from her own graduation from med school plus her wedding and with her kids. Everyone’s smiling and happy. It’s too soon for Ma to leave us.

Too soon.

Armed with wonderful childhood memories—and forbidding any more recent ones to surface—I decide to check in on Ma. Make sure she’s sleeping. Then I can pass out in the guest bedroom.

I walk to the far end of the house, to her bedroom. The door’s ajar, so I push it open to get a better look into the room. Ma appears comfortable, her face relaxed in sleep. Maybe a quick kiss on the forehead won’t be amiss? I’m confident I won’t wake her, since she’s always slept like the dead.

My feet pause at the awful turn of phrase.

I continue my silent trip to her bed. I whisper, “I’m here, Ma. Sleep well.” I kiss her, my heart thudding in my chest.

Gray eyes open and she struggles backward on the bed.

In the most soothing voice I can muster, I say, “Sorry, Ma, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jenna?”

“It’s me.”

Her hand lands on top of the left side of her chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Does she also have heart issues? Kara didn’t mention any. “Should I get you cardiac medicine?”

She frowns. “What? No.”

I exhale the breath fighting to come out. “Good.”

Ma rearranges the pillows behind her and pats the side of the bed. “Aren’t you having the time of your life with Bennett, touring with Untamed Coaster?”

How much should I share with her? She’s probably not too caught up with gossip, considering her health issues. “It was fun. It’s over. I’m here now.”

“What do you mean ‘it’s over’? Last I heard, you were visiting Graceland.”

My stomach falls to the floor. “I did.” I clear my throat. “It was amazing to see where Elvis lived.” And died. I don’t add that part.

“Sweet Pea. Why are you here?”

Anyone who thinks I’m stubborn has yet to meet my mother. “It’s late. Well, it’s early and I’m tired. Why don’t we talk in the morning?” When I can deal with the truth about what Kara told me without bursting into tears.

For once, I catch a break as Ma yawns. “You’re probably right. I am tired, and I’ll need all my wits about me to get to the bottom of this.”

I can’t stop myself and give her another kiss. Then I help her become horizontal and tuck her in, like she used to do for me. “Sleep well, Ma. I’ll see you in the morning.” Only a few hours away.

Slinking out of her bedroom, I wheel my suitcase to the guest bedroom. I’m able to do nothing more than take off my shoes before passing out.

The smell of bacon tickles my nose. I toss my head on the pillow, but the delightful odor lingers. One eye opens, then the other. I inhale, letting the delicious smell waft over me. Ma’s making breakfast.

I sit up, taking stock of the clothes that have been on my body for the past what? Twenty-nine hours? More? Better take a shower before devouring the promised breakfast of champions.

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