What the fuck is going on?
Mama gives the stranger one last peck and climbs out of the car. She doesn’t even acknowledge us as she waves goodbye, watching him back down the drive, a blissful smile lighting her face.
I’ve entered the Twilight Zone. That has to be it. Because none of this is making any damn sense.
The convertible’s red taillights disappear down the street and Mama finally turns to us.
“What’s all the commotion?” She cuts her eyes at the police car. The woman is completely unmoved, like it’s perfectly normal to come home and find a uniformed officer at her door. “Has my house been burgled?”
“No, ma’am,” the officer says, resting his hands on his belt. “We got an alarm call from the security company, but from what I can tell, nothing’s out of order. I’m happy to do a walkthrough with you, if you’d like.”
Mama waves him off as she makes her way up the path to the porch, seemingly unconcerned. “That damn thing goes off every time the wind blows. Most nights I don’t even turn it on.”
What? What good is a security system if she doesn’t even use it?
I can’t take it anymore. If I don’t say something, my head is going to explode. “Where have you been?” I demand, gesturing after the long-gone hot rod. “And why didn’t you answer your phone? I must’ve called you thirty times.”
You scared me half to death.
“I forgot it at home.” A sly grin curves her lips and there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eye. For the first time in my life, I can imagine what it must’ve been like raising three teenagers. “Richard picked me up for dinner and then we went out for drinks afterward.”
“You went out drinking?” I sputter. “On a Monday night?”
Who is this woman and what has she done with my mother?
I look her over, truly taking in her appearance now. High heels. Fitted jeans. A low-cut blouse the same sea green as her eyes. Bright red lipstick.
I do a double take.
Since when does she wear lipstick?
Mama Hart plants a hand on her hip and gives methe look. “I’m old, not dead, Nicholas.” She sniffs. “Besides, what difference does it make if I go out drinking on a Monday night? It’s not like I have to go to work in the morning.”
She’s right. It could be Friday night and I wouldn’t feel any better about this situation or her lack of concern for her own safety and well-being.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, fine,” I say, trying a different approach. I can count the arguments I’ve won with Mama Hart on one hand, and they all involve a healthy dose of logic. Which is clearly needed in this situation. “But you went out with some strange man and no phone. And what’s worse, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going.”
She scoffs. “There is nothing strange about Richard. He’s a perfect gentleman. You’d like him.”
Where have I heard that before?
I glance at Scarlett for support. Her eyes go wide and she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head. No help there.
Not that I should have expected it. She’s not my girlfriend. Hell, she’s probably sorry she tagged along for this circus. I’m sure her evening plans didn’t include the police or meeting the parents.
I huff out a breath, nostrils flaring, and count to ten.
Who are you really annoyed with? Mama Hart? Scarlett? Yourself?
This isn’t about me and Scarlett.
“Where did you meet Richard?” I finally ask. Because apparently our roles are completely reversed now and I’m the responsible adult in this family.
“Online.” She says it completely matter-of-fact. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I joined one of those singles dating sites.”
My temple throbs and there’s a snort of laughter, but I can’t tell if it came from Scarlett or the cop. Where the fuck are Miles and Beck when I need them?
Living their best lives and not worrying about all the things that could go wrong.
