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“Mom, can I borrow your car?” September stood beside the polished marble countertop, feeling about fifteen years old. It sucked not having a car. Or a house.
“Sit down. Eat your breakfast, dear, you’re thin as a rail. It’s only been a few days, and the doctors made me promise you’d rest.” She poured coffee into two delicate china cups, and carried them to the table.
September drank hers in three swallows. She grimaced at Mom’s frown of disapproval. “I drink two full pots of coffee every morning. You know that.” She retrieved the coffee carafe, refilled her tiny cup, and set both on the table before taking her seat. “I’ll get a big coffee mug when I go out.”
Little things, like losing her favorite Life’s a Peach coffee mug, continued to remind her of how much she’d lost. “I need to pick up my cello from the theater. And I want to visit Macy at the vet since you won’t let me bring him here.”
Her cat and the cello were all she had left.
“You know I’m allergic.” Mom sipped her coffee, and toyed with her eggs Benedict. Rose’s allergies excused anything she didn’t like. “I need the car all morning for my spa day. I’m visiting Steven to talk about the newspaper feature. My grandson, the hero! He’s so talented, but then all my grandchildren are special.” She chattered on, enraptured by the notion he’d saved another boy with his computer skills.
Yes, he found the boy, and not Shadow. She hid ready tears behind another jolt of coffee. She had to accept the painful reality that Shadow was gone.
“I could stop by the theater on the way home, I suppose.” Mom took a bite of egg, chewed exactly six times, and swallowed. “Perhaps Steven will want to visit the director. He’s so handsome, don’t you think? We’re very fortunate to have such a talent here in Heartland. It’s a shame you’ll miss the closing weekend performances.” She offered a tight smile.
The old refrain ran unspoken beneath Mom’s chatter. September wasn’t married. September preferred animals to kids. Two strikes. And she’d denied her musical gifts—well, until Mom convinced her to try again. So count that two strikes and a half.
“Guess I’ll ask Dad when he gets home.”
“He needs his car for work. Really, September, what’s your hurry? Heavens, I’d think you’d welcome some downtime after everything you’ve been through. Might be time to think about getting a real job. After all, Steven doesn’t need a service dog anymore.” And neither should you, she implied.
“Like you don’t need a sister anymore?” The words came out of their own volition. “I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
Mom’s smooth brow furrowed, and lips pressed into a thin white line. One fluttering hand went to her throat. “I’m not talking with you about this.” She stood, grabbed her half-eaten breakfast, and carried it to the sink.
“Why not?” Hurt fueled her words. September followed, carrying her own uneaten meal. Mom knew she preferred plain Jane scrambled eggs, not these pretentious restaurant recipes. Everything with Mom had to do with appearances. Her home, her family, her looks, all orchestrated to seem perfect to the outside world. September’s recent public strife reflected badly, but now a secret sister appeared. Maybe Rose wasn’t perfect after all. “What happened between you and Aunt Cornelia?”
“It’s none of your business!” Mom grabbed the plate and dropped in the sink, then grasped the edge of the counter, her breathing heavy. “None of it matters anymore. It’s a dead issue, and has nothing to do with you.” She straightened, smoothing her hair. She painted on a forced smile. “I need to get ready. Please straighten up for me?” Without meeting September’s eyes, Mom flounced out of the kitchen, kitten heels clicking on the tile.
September rinsed the plates, ran the disposal and loaded the dishwasher. She drank two more tiny cups of coffee before rummaging in the cupboard and finding a soup mug to use instead.
Her phone rang again. September answered without looking. “My mom says she’ll pick up Harmony later today.”
“Who? Is that you, September?”
“Combs, oh it’s you. Sorry.” With a clink, she managed to place her makeshift mug on the counter when her hand started to tremble. “My cello, Harmony, is still over at the theater. The orchestra director keeps calling, twice already this morning.”
“Oh, right.”
“How are you? I mean, have you had any rest at all? The news reports massive damage all over the county.” September hadn’t been back to her house yet. She needed to figure out whether to repair, rebuild or relocate. Much would depend on the state of the building, and what insurance would pay. “Mom and Dad’s house had a couple broken windows and may need new shingles, but otherwise, they were lucky.”
“It’ll be months before things get back to normal, if they ever do.” He paused, and added, “How’s life with Mom and Dad?”
She snorted. “Just as you’d expect.” But at least she’d suffered no flashbacks. Until she could get a new car and find a place for her and Macy, she’d grin and bear living with her folks.
Combs cleared his throat. “I’ve got some good news.”
Her heart thrummed, but then settled as he continued.
“They found Sunny Babcock trying to cross into Mexico.”
“Oh wow. She survived.” The killer escaped the flood, when poor Shadow drowned rescuing the innocent. “Listen, this is hard for me, but I have to ask you something.”
“September, I can’t talk details about open investigations.”
“No, not about that.” She pushed coffee color hair out of her eyes. She winced when her hand touched the still tender bald spot at the crown. “It’s about volunteering me to evaluate that police dog.”
“Lia Corazon’s puppy? September, I didn’t volunteer you to do anything.” She could imagine him cracking his knuckles as he paced back and forth. “Uncle Stanley found out about your experience with police dogs when we needed his help with that investigation last November.”
“Oh.” Combs lost his mom—Uncle Stanley’s sister—last Thanksgiving in the debacle where she’d first met the detective. “You didn’t volunteer me? Then how come Mr. Corazon—”
“They’re friends, and Corazon called him for a favor.” His tone turned dark. “But Corazon saw you at the hospital and approached you before we could tell you.”
The tension in her neck evaporated. He hadn’t shared her secrets with strangers. Everyone had secrets, private horrors they kept locked away.
Before she could reply, Combs spoke again. “Let me make it up to you. Please. I meant no harm. Let me take you to dinner, okay?”
She grinned. “You mean, a real date? A for real, dress-up adult-type date? Why sir, I think we’re way overdue.” She disconnected and continued to smile as Mom came back into the room.
“Did I hear right? You’ve got a date? With that nice orchestra director.” Mom fairly clapped her hands with excitement.
September laughed. “You heard right, I’ve got a date.” If Rose wanted to keep old painful secrets, then September figured she deserved a happy new secret.
“Well then, hurry up, you’re coming with me. It’s spa day, and my treat. We’ve got to do something with your hair.”
