Chapter Thirty-Nine

Saturday morning around ten, Aggie’s phone rang. Struggling out of the cobwebs of a nightmare, she answered. “Hello.”

“Is this Agnes?” The woman’s voice was harsh and yet quiet, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear her.

Aggie’s brain woke with a jolt, and she sat up. “It is?” Had something happened to Meemaw? Was this the police? God, had she been speeding again? “Who is this?”

No one responded. Glasses clinked in the background.

“Hello? Are you there?” Aggie glanced at her screen to see if she’d accidentally hung up on the person. She hadn’t. “Helloooooooooooo.” She glanced at the clock. Hell. It was a good thing her phone rang.

She had less than an hour to drop off the bid. She pulled on a pair of jeans while she waited for whoever was on the other line to answer. Ten more seconds and she would hang up.

“This is Darlene.”

Goose bumps exploded on her arms and her legs stopped working and she crumbled to the floor in an unceremonious heap. “Mom? Is this…you?”

“I wouldn’t say it was if it wasn’t. I’m going to be at The Cat and the Fiddle until five. If you’re not there by then…well, whatever.”

Happiness choked her airways as she used the side of the bed to pull herself to a standing position. Mom wants to meet me. “Is that in Kansas City?”

“Springfield.” Mom disconnected.

She ran to the bathroom, stripping out of her clothes as she did, showered quickly, and then picked out an outfit to meet Mom in. Not too dressy, but something special. Why hadn’t she bought a just-in-case outfit for this moment—she couldn’t show up in jeans and a T-shirt as if it were no big deal to meet Mom for the first time as an adult.

Halfway through putting on her makeup, it hit her. She didn’t have a car, and she had to drop off Max’s bid. And tonight was the charity event. “Shit.” Think. Breathe. You can figure this out.

She grabbed her phone and called Meemaw. “What time are you going to be home?” She crossed her fingers.

“Good morning to you, too. Trying to get a boyfriend out of the house before I show up?”

A laugh, sounding like a strangled alley cat, left Aggie’s throat. “I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m supposed to drop a bid off today by eleven. Could you do that for me?” Every moment she spent doing something else right now cost her time with Mom.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you right now, but I promise I will when I get back. The drop off is at Great Southern. Ten minutes from us. Can you do that?”

“Are pickles green?”

“You’re the best.” She hung up and called Bill. He liked adventure. “I need a huge favor,” she said the moment he answered.

“Aggie, this you?”

She relaxed. He sounded sober. “I need a ride to Springfield.”

“When?”

“Now.”

There was a pause. She could hear him peeing.

Guys could be so gross.

“You still live at the same address?”

“I do.”

“On my way.”

She did the math. If he got to her house by ten thirty, the way he drove, they’d be in Springfield by one fifteen p.m. They would need only another thirty minutes to find The Cat and the Fiddle.

She should be in Mom’s presence no later than one forty-five. She’d get to spend almost three hours with her. If Bill and she left Springfield, by four thirty, she’d be back in time for the charity event. Barely. Not as early as she was supposed to be, but she’d make it before the actual event started.

She went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Making the trip on the back of a Harley meant wearing her favorite Wrangler jeans, her lucky bomber jacket, and boots. She put lotion on her hands and sprayed perfume in the air and then danced through it. She stuffed clothes to wear to the charity event in a backpack. She’d have Bill drop her at the hotel. She could change in the restroom.

Ready to go, she grabbed her phone.

Unfortunately, her lotioned-up hands fumbled the sucker. Her heart sank as it hit the counter before bouncing once and landing in the toilet.

“Son of a bitch.” She fished it out, ran with it to the kitchen, and placed it in a bowl with dry white rice. The honking of a horn startled her. Bill. She washed her hands, grabbed her jacket, ran out the door, and hopped on behind Bill. They could use his phone.

Turning the corner at the end of their street, Meemaw’s Mustang sat at the stoplight. Aggie waved. Damn it. She should have left a note asking her to cover for her at the trivia event if she didn’t get back in time.

She’d just have to make sure she got back. Maybe Mom would come with her.