Page 42 of In a Word, Yes

My phone buzzes on the seat next to me. I stare at it dully. That’s bound to be my Yvonne, champing at the bit to hammerout travel details. When I finally flip it over on the last ring, it feels like a million pounds in my hand.

Except it’s not Yvonne. I sit up straighter. Filling my screen is Lucy’s darling face.

Trouble is, we just spoke the other day.Something’s wrong.But when I rush to accept the call, her tone is blithe. The best medicine for what ails me!

“Is this a bad time?” My shoulders relax. “I’ve got a few minutes before I have to pick up the kiddos.”

“No, no, not at all, honey, not at all.” Here’s what is truly ludicrous. No matter how many ways we assure our grown children that we’d rather hear their voice than anything in all the world, they see themselves as an interruption.

Although, why wouldn’t they assume such a thing if they grew up with a too-busy mother? It’s nauseating. I can’t think about it.

“I was just ... hang on a sec,” I say, gathering my handbag off the passenger seat. As soon as I’m safely across the parking lot and inside Macy’s, I continue. “As a matter of fact, I was just birthday shopping for a certain dapper young man turning nine. Everything okay out there? Do I hear wind?”

“Yeah, I’m sitting outside the library watching the leaves swirl. But Mom, you’re nuts! You’ve already done plenty. You don’t need to—”

“I may not need to, but Igetto. I know how much Chase likes his polo shirts, and—”

“He literally wears them out.”

“So then let me have a little fun dressing that boy in some new colors. I’m his Mimi! And is he still intoStar Trek?”

“I promise you, he will nevernotbe intoStar Trek. Alright, you win, but I strongly suggest sticking with shades of blue. And you know his fabric requirements, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

Lucy says, “You know that creepy feeling when there’s sometiny, scratchy thread inside your bra, except that it’s invisible, and you can’t find it?”

“That’s theworst.”

“Just happened to me today. I figure for Chase it’s like that.”

“And howismy favorite Trekkie?”

At my daughter’s soft chuckle, the last vestiges of my earlier pity party melt away. “He’s great. Probably still coming down to earth after his class field trip exploring a ginormous underground cave south of here.”

“How exciting! I don’t suppose you got to go along? That would be a fun one.”

“No, Mom. I had to work. In fact, that’s what I called about. Something ... work-related.”

“Oh, shucks. Well, I understand how it is. I missed so many of yours and Vanessa’s.”

A beat of silence hangs between us.

I clear my throat. “You say you called about work?”

“You’ll never guess what I’ve been up to.” Her voice ticks up, as if she’s got a pocketful of good news.

“Should I try?”

“I’m just saying, you might want to dust off yourattagirl, Lucys. That is, if you still have a stash of them hidden somewhere.”

“Oooh! Something ...daring?”

“Mmm, not quite running-with-scissors daring. But Lucy Montgomery daring?”

And to think, she calledme! That all-is-right-with-my-world feeling settles over me, in spite of the arctic-level air conditioning in this overly illuminated department store and the wide-eyed looks of recognition I just got from a pair of shoppers.

After launching into an adorable mandate not to say “I told you so,” Lucy spills the news that she attended a meeting of the newly formed Sweet Reads Writing Society. Color me tickled! And there’s more.