Page 33 of Reckless
By the time I pulled out of her street, my phone was already vibrating.
Maman.Twice.On the third call I answered through the car speakers and said, “Good morning.”
“Where are you?”
There was no greeting.No warmth.direct inquiry in the silk-lined voice she used when she’d been patient as long as she intended to.
“Driving.”
“From where?”
I smiled despite myself.“You know, when you ask in that tone, it makes me want to become evasive.”
“You were not in your room this morning.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“And still capable of answering a simple question.”
I took the turn off Kelly’s street and headed toward the main road out of town.“I was out.”
“With Kelly?”
“That’s fast, even for you.”
“I’m your mother.Nothing is fast for me.Only for you.”A pause.“Was it with Kelly?”
At minimum, I should have redirected.Instead I said, “Yes.”
Silence met that.
I loosened my grip on the wheel.“Don’t.”
“I have not said anything.”
“You’re saying quite a lot.”
She made a tiny dismissive sound.“You looked at her all night.”
I almost laughed.Because she’d chosen that angle instead of the far more obvious one, which was that I had detonated dinner and then gone to find Kelly the next morning before most people had finished coffee.
“You invited another woman to the table,” I said.
“I invited the Azharis to graduation weekend.I did not drag anyone to the table by the hair.”
“You made the point.”
That I believed.She let a beat pass, then said lightly, “Kelly is now having coffee with Britney.”
“Is she?”I asked.
“Yes.”My mother’s tone sharpened with faint amusement.“And I suspect Britney is saying terrible things about you.”
“Not terrible,” I said.“Accurate.”
That bought me another silence, this one different.Smaller.More observant.
Then, very softly, “Xerses joon.”
