Page 7 of It All Began at Dixieland

“I know you still have to set up, but do you have the full series with you for the Teats Out MC? And the second generation?” I nod dumbfounded. Page rubs her hands together, “Excellent. I’d like to buy both complete series.”

I turn to my mom, my eyes wide, clutching my chest, “Mom, it’s the big one. I can see the light.”

Mom doesn’t miss a beat, using her customer service voice, “Will that be cash or card?”

Efa 5.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this since you’re 31 years old.” Mom sighs as we enter our hotel room after a long and phenomenal day. “Efa Jo, do you need to use the potty?”

I stop, drop my money box to my bed, and cock my head to the side. “No. Why?”

She smiles fondly at me, though it’s slightly patronizing. “Because you are bouncing on your feet like a little kid about to pee their pants.”

“Oh.” I grin broadly at her and do a little jig in place. “Today was fantastic! I’m pumped and excited and…and…invigorated. I want to write and read and eat and sleep and jump for joy.”

Her smile grows, “I’ve always been proud of you, Efa Jo, you know that. But today…” She sighs softly, sitting gingerly on the edge of her bed. I can see the pain that lines her tired face. I’m so happy she’s here and yet I know what this is physically costing her. “There are no words to adequately express how brightly you shined. You drew people in, they gravitated toward you and your energy. It was a sight to see and I’m so damn happy I got to witness you in your element. I don’t think the video I took for your dad will do it justice.”

“You filmed me?” I ask, trying and failing to stop the emotions welling inside me at her words.

“You don’t see it, but everyone else does. I heard plenty of readers tell me how much they love your books, but it’s you they wanted to talk to, take pictures with, get your autograph.” She transforms instantly, her face lighting up as she remembers, “And the tattoo! Someone had a logo you designed permanently inked on their skin. I haven’t decided if that’s awesome or weird.”

“It’s weirdly awesome!” I state emphatically. And it is. I was touched beyond words at that reader’s love for my work. It was humbling. The whole day was a lesson in humility. I sit at my computer, and I give voice to the thoughts that run rampant through my head and people read them. Not only that, but they love them, devour them, and hunger for more. I will never get used to that.

“Thank you.” I say after a minute, gratitude causing my voice to thicken. I lean down and hug her gently. “I love you, mom. I’m so happy Mallory is a big dramatic baby.”

“Me too. Now, freshen up and then go join your friends.”

I straighten and stare down at her with a cocked eyebrow. She sees mine and raises one of her own. “Mom. I’m going to order dinner for us from the hotel restaurant and we’re going to watch horrible movies the rest of the night.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Those are my plans for the evening. Yours are to join the authors that invited you out to dinner and your beta readers.”

I want to. God, when Wren and Page told me to meet them in the lobby later to go to dinner with them, I nearly screamed like a teeny bopper at a boy band concert. But…mom.

“Nah, I wanna spend time with my mom.” I flutter my eyelashes. She is unimpressed.

“Go. Laugh. Hang out with other people. Perhaps you’ll find an available penis to crash into—”

“MOM!”

“Change your clothes, reapply deodorant and brush your teeth. Then go have fun and don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I don’t—”

“Efa Jo.” Her voice suddenly strains. “I just need to rest.”

“Ok.” I agree reluctantly. “You promise you’ll order something from room service?” She nods and I don’t believe her at all, but I don’t push it. I dig through my suitcase and grab a form fitting V-neck shirt, linen shorts and a clean bra and panties. I showered this morning, but I’ve been sweating all day in a ballroom with over 500 authors, assistants, and readers.

I run through a quick shower, brush my teeth, blow-dry my hair, apply some light makeup and dress. Emerging from the bathroom, my mom is grimacing as she sits in the chair next to her bed. I don’t want to leave her when she’s in so much pain. Her dark eyes dart to me and I snap my mouth shut, knowing it’s a lost cause. She’s made up her mind.

“There is my beautiful girl.”

I smirk, “Was I not beautiful this morning?”

“No, your shapeless clothes molded unattractively to your sweaty body, and you had a swamp ass stain on the seat of your capris.”

“OH MY GOD! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What were you gonna do?”

---