Her mother stopped, turned and whipped off her aviator sunglasses. “I’d forgotten all about it.”
Carrie squelched a twinge of irritation that she was low man on Mother’s totem pole. “Are you coming? I’m baking a red velvet cake.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, then.” She shoved the sunglasses back in place. “And honey, why don’t you take those extra bulbs over to Sara Perneky? She could use some good cheer.”
Before Carrie could remind her mother that they’d already discussed doing exactly that, Frannie had slammed the car door and cranked the engine.
As the Olds roared away, Mother gave two final blasts of the horn.
Carrie waved, shaking her head. Mother was…well, Mother.
* * *
By the time Dan and Lexi returned with the peat moss along with a bag of burgers from Whopper World and a few other items Carrie didn’t remember needing, Carrie had gone inside for a break.
“Saw your mom at Wal-Mart.” Dan bent to kiss her cheek.
“That’s funny. Mother stopped by more than an hour ago and didn’t say a word about seeing you.” Carrie dipped to the side so as not to streak Dan’s green Henley with dirt and shoved her hands under the kitchen faucets. Her back ached a little from muscles atrophied by winter. “She wanted Lexi to go with her.”
“Where?” Lexi asked, though she continued rummaging through a Wal-Mart bag.
“The airport to watch skydiving.” Carrie rinsed her hands and reached toward the paper towel holder. “I didn’t know you were going to Wal-Mart.”
No wonder they’d been gone so long.
“Lexi needed some new earrings.”
“Oh right. Like my mother needs another hat.”
“I didn’t have any blue ones.” Lexi tilted her head to display a series of neon-colored hoops dangling below two gleaming studs. “Do you like them, Mom?”
They were hideous. Three holes in one ear. Good grief. “Great for spring.”
“You hate them.”
Carrie patted her daughter’s silky brown hair. At fifteen and all legs, Lexi was growing into a beauty with tastes of her own. She was a great kid. The only kid. Though Carrie and Dan had prayed for more, these prayers had gone unanswered. “If you like them, that’s all that matters.”
“I told Dad you’d say that.” Her daughter didn’t seem the least offended. Their tastes had never run along the same lines and lately the gulf had widened. Where Carrie preferred subtle and classic, Lexi gravitated toward bold colors and the hottest trends.
“Come on.” Lexi settled at the bar. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Dan pulled a face. “This is after two doughnuts.”
Even with starbursts bracketing his eyes from years of working out in the sun, Dan Martin was a handsome man, fit and trim with hair as dark as ever. His worst flaw was that he didn’t attend church and in a small town like Riverbend, church membership was socially important. Though Dan claimed to be a believer, he also claimed to spend more time with God in the great outdoors than most people did in church. Carrie wasn’t much on the long-winded preaching, but she’d made plenty of friends and hopefully some brownie points with God by working in the nursery every single service for the past ten years.
“You stopped at the bakery, too?” Paper rustled as she took a fragrant burger from a sack and straddled a bar stool. “I’m starting to feel left out.”
Dan shot her a wink. “Brought you a surprise.”
Dan’s bakery surprise was always the same. “If it’s a chocolate éclair, you’ll be forgiven, although I may change my mind when I go shopping for an Easter dress.”
“You look good to me.”
Mouth full of burger and heart full of pleasure, Carrie was laughing with her lips closed when the telephone rang. Lexi exploded off the bar. “I got it.”
In seconds she was back, holding the cordless receiver toward her mother. “For you.”
At Carrie’s questioning look, she shrugged and mouthed, “I don’t know,” then poked another ketchup-laden French fry into her mouth.
Carrie quickly swallowed and put her sandwich down. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Martin?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“Officer Shane Wallace with the Riverbend police department.”
Carrie’s nerves tensed. The bar’s granite felt cold against her elbow. “Hello, Shane. Is something wrong?”
Shane’s family attended her church. One of the perks of small town living was being acquainted with at least one person in every sector of business and government.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid there is. I’m here with Mrs. Adler, your mother. I thought I should call you first.”
Carrie blinked. First? Before what?
Her hand tightened on the receiver. She looked at Dan, who had lowered his hamburger and now watched her with curiosity.
“Has she had an accident?”
“No, ma’am.” My, he was formal today. “At least, none that we can ascertain. You see, I found her sitting in her car on the shoulder of Highway 56. When I stopped to assist she didn’t recognize me.”
“Oh, well, that’s understandable. You look so grown-up in your uniform.”
“You don’t understand. Mrs. Adler seems confused. She didn’t know where she was, how she got here or where she was going.”
Carrie brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. “Are you sure Mother isn’t teasing you, Shane? You know how she loves to joke around.”
“I don’t think so, Mrs. Martin. Your mom seems pretty scared.”
Mother? Scared? Impossible. Mother was fearless. Nothing scared her. She’d raised two children single-handedly on a pauper’s wages. Two years ago she’d trekked the jungles of Honduras to take supplies and Bibles to a group of native churches. Mother had never expressed fear about anything. Ever.
“But she was here only a while ago and everything was fine. I just don’t understand…”
“Mrs. Martin,” the young officer’s voice intruded, this time with a respectful firmness. “I really think you should come.”
“Oh.” Suddenly, the call was too real. Something was wrong. “Okay. Yes. Of course I will. Tell me what to do.”
Carrie took note of Shane’s instructions and then replaced the receiver.
