Summer Kisses (44 page)

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Two hours later, Lucky pushed out from under the Shelby, rolled off the cart, stood, and stretched the kinks out of her back. “Let’s take a lunch break and see what we can come up with in the way of a picnic.”

She still couldn’t get over the bucket list. The sad picture of three neglected girls was becoming more vivid. If all they wanted was attention from their mother, then she must not have given much in the first place. The outrageous need to hold and coddle these girls was almost overwhelming. Instead, she picked up a shop rag from the table that held her tools, wiped her hands, and glanced back at the pencil-thin legs sticking out from under the Shelby. “Are you coming?”

“Nah, in a little while. I need to finish this first.” Vivi’s voice was the don’t-bother-me-I’m-in-the-zone that Lucky knew she used when she was into something.

Lucky turned back, not sure if leaving Vivi alone was a good idea. She could get hurt. She took a step toward the child and then stopped. At Vivi’s age, Lucky had been staying home alone and could rebuild an engine practically blindfolded. But Vivi wasn’t Lucky. She took another step toward Vivi. It was overprotective, but she couldn’t help it. “Are you okay in here alone?”

“Yep, worked on the Shelby all alone before. Uncle Will doesn’t know a hubcap from a distributor cap.”

“Truer words were never spoken.” Lucky nodded.

“I’m good, don’t worry.” Vivi sounded so sure.

Lucky bit her top lip and glanced at the door. “I’m going to prop the door open. If you need anything, just yell.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t take too long, and don’t worry about cleanup. We can do it later.” Lucky opened the heavy door, grabbed a good-sized rock next to it, and propped the door open. She shaded her eyes from the October sunlight as she stepped outside.

A rhythmic
thump, thump, thump
from the driveway caught her attention. A mile-long 1975 pink Cadillac Eldorado convertible bounced down the driveway pulling a silver airstream RV.

Wonderful. Mama Cherie was here. This must have been the “care package” Charlie had told her about the other day. Just once, couldn’t she and Betts have sent her some cookies or a Hallmark card? But no, Betts had sent her mother to monitor and referee Lucky’s living situation.

Since Mama had bothered to pull her camper all the way from New Orleans, it meant she was staying a while. Crap. Not only would she have opinions on Lucky living with Ricky’s kids, but in short order, she’d figure out that Lucky had been pretending that everything was good. She’d know that Lucky had been living a lie. Mama could ferret out information that most trained interrogators couldn’t glean.

The Caddy, top-down and complete with longhorns on the front grill, pulled into the circle drive.

Lucky sauntered over to meet her.

Slowly, Mama opened the driver’s-side door, untied the scarf over her hair, dropped it in the passenger’s seat, patted her French twist, and stepped one hot-pink rhinestoned hooker heel out onto the crushed granite. The other foot followed. The hot-pink-sequined bustier and silver-sequin-bedazzled ultra-tight skinny jeans shrink-wrapped over Mama’s body just about blinded Lucky. As she walked toward the woman, she pulled her sunglasses down off the top of her head and placed them over her eyes, protecting her retinas.

“Mama Cherie, this is a surprise.” Lucky hugged the older woman.

“Why? Charlie called and said you needed me.” Mama hugged her with gusto. In fact, Mama did everything with gusto. She stepped back, leaned over the side of the car, and came up with a cinnamon-colored golden retriever puppy. “This is Roxy—my muse.”

Poor Roxy had on a miniature version of her owner’s outfit. The puppy shot Lucky a look that said, “I know I look ridiculous, please help me.”

Mama adjusted Roxy’s bustier, as it had fallen down around her hind legs, and kissed the top of her sweet puppy head. “I’m designing a line of dog clothing to go with my line of women’s clothes. Now, you and your pet can be twins. I’m calling it K-Naughty.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a hit.” Lucky scratched the dog behind the ears.

“We have lots to talk about. I’m going to set up my RV over there.” Mama pointed to a grassy area by the pool house.

“So you’re staying.” Lucky shoved her hands in her back pockets. Mama hadn’t been the best of mothers while Betts was growing up, so she was making up for it now.

“I know. You’re so lucky. No need to thank me.” Mama kissed her cheek.

“Thank you wasn’t what came to mind,” Lucky mumbled under her breath.

“I heard that.” Mama smiled. “You’re just jealous. Don’t worry, I’ll make you a bustier too, and then you’ll be as hot as I am.”

“Good God, I hope not.” Lucky couldn’t help but smile. Mama was the closest thing she had to a mother … if mothers came in a stripper version.

“Have you slept with him yet?” Mama shifted Roxy to her left arm and leaned into the backseat with her right hand, coming up with a pink, rhinestone-encrusted baseball bat. Mama always traveled with a baseball bat. On road trips, some people brought a tire gauge and jumper cables. Mama brought a bat.

“Have I slept with who?” Lucky looked around like a man would materialize.

Mama cocked her head to the left and sighed. “Will. The guy’s been in love with you for as long as I’ve known him.” She shook her head. “Honestly, you, Betts, and Charlie would never get laid if it weren’t for me. I’m like the Sex Fairy handing out condoms and horny pixie dust wherever I go.”

“It’s a wonder you don’t have a seat on the Mythical Creatures High Council.” Lucky rolled her eyes.

“I know. Narrow-minded bastards. Santa and the Easter Bunny were on my side, but that bitch Mother Nature and that tight-assed Father Time voted me out.” Mama tapped her bat against her shoe.

Mama might be a handful, but she was fun. “You were robbed.”

“Have you slept with him?” She turned her direct blue eyes on Lucky.

“Um, no. First of all, I’ve only been here for a whopping three days, and second, Will’s not into me.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she’d had time to analyze them. Why hadn’t she said that she wasn’t into Will?

“Honey, I don’t like to call you stupid to your face, but, well, you’re stupid.”

“But he’s Will … and I … he … we … there… He’s Will.” Lucky felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Some people blushed prettily, but she looked like someone had slapped her in the face a bunch of times.

Will didn’t have a thing for her. She’d mentioned it the other night, and he’d laughed it off. It was absurd. He was Will—the man who’d always been there for her, the only man she’d been able to rely on, and the one person who’d always watched out for her.

“Slow down, honey, if you concentrate any harder, your head might explode.” Mama patted her shoulder. “Exploding heads are so hard to clean up.”

Lucky had forgotten about what Betts called “Mama’s random ramblings.” Mama had the true gift for taking something bizarre and turning it into something insane.

“You need to think about his motives. Why bring you here?” Mama continued to pat.

Lucky wanted to confess that it was money, but then she’d have to tell Mama that she didn’t have any. Mama would worry or, worse, offer her a loan, and then she’d call Betts and Charlie. The thought that her friends might find out that she was flat broke and had been living out of her car made her sick to her stomach. Will didn’t have any ulterior motives for bringing her here, did he?

“For the girls. He brought me here for the girls.” Lucky stepped back. Will had brought her here for money and the girls. Why?

“Yeah, sure he did. He brought you here so you’d finally give him a chance.” Mama grinned. “Plus, he wants to bang you.”

“Always the romantic.”

Mama shrugged. “I’m all about the hearts and flowers. It’s a gift.”

“Come and meet the girls. Two thirds of them like me.” Lucky put her hand on Mama’s forearm. “How long are you staying?”

“I don’t know. It all depends on how long it takes you to admit that you need help.” Mama turned serious, which was hard for Mama to pull off.

“With what?” Lucky had a sinking feeling that Mama knew her money troubles. Vulnerability wasn’t her favorite emotion. As long as her friends thought she was fine, they wouldn’t pity her. No one would ever pity her again.

“Ricky. You need to grieve. You can’t ignore the five stages of grief.” Mama really wanted to help, and when Mama really wanted something, she got it. “All you’re doing is ignoring it.”

“That’s not true. I’m basking in the anger stage.”

“That’s good.” She nodded. “Now it’s time to move on to the bargaining stage. It’s okay if you feel guilty even if it wasn’t your fault.”

“The only bargaining I’d like to do is with a contract killer to get a better price, but killing Ricky again seems like, well … overkill.” Lucky knew the five stages of grief, but rage kicked grief’s ass every time.

“I see what you mean about the anger. You’ve not only embraced it, you’ve become it.” Mama chewed on her bottom lip and then did the sign of the cross starting with Lucky’s forehead. “I now pronounce you officially grief-less. May you live a long and angry life.”

No one loved anger more than Mama.

Lucky threw her arms in the air. “I’m healed. Thank you, Jesus.” She spun around like Wonder Woman. “Do I look any different?”

Mama inspected her from head to toe. “Nope. Sometimes it takes a while for the pronouncement to take effect—you know, like a delayed reaction to a food allergy. Don’t worry, those hives will start any minute.”

“Can’t wait.” Lucky slung an arm around Mama. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She smiled at Lucky. “When one of my girls needs me, I’ll always be there.”

It was comforting in a bawdy, overly pink bedazzled sort of way. The being there thing was kind of new for Mama. She hadn’t been there for Betts as a child or Betts the teenager, but by God, she was here now … and staying … for an indefinite amount of time.

“Okay, give me the lowdown on the girls.” Mama picked her way over the gravel in her mile-high heels.

“Dawnie is the youngest and is into Barbies, Viviane is the middle child and loves restoring American muscle cars, and Mandy is sixteen and hates the world.” Lucky slowed her pace so Mama could keep up. Hooker heels and gravel driveways didn’t mix well.

“You’re all over the spectrum. Thank God I’m here to smooth things over. I have a way with teenagers. Don’t worry. I’m the teenager whisperer.” Mama leaned over and put Roxy on the ground. “Tinkle time.”

“Teenager whisperer?” Lucky remembered being a teenager and helping Betts throw away Mama’s stash of whatever drug she was into that week. She was clean now, but it was still hard to see Mama as an adult. She was a fifty-something with the mental age of sixteen. Now that Lucky thought about it, Mama kinda was the teenager whisperer.

Dawnie ran out the front door waving Barbie Fashionista. “Look, I braided her hair.” She caught sight of Mama, stopped, and her eyes went huge. “You look like Glitter Glam Barbie.” Her eyes followed the rhinestone leash that ended at the puppy. Dawnie’s whole body smiled. “We got a puppy!” Dropping Barbie Fashionista, she ran full out to the puppy and scooped her up. “I’m gonna name her Cuddles.”

“Now wait a minute. This is my dog, and her name is Roxy.”

“Roxy.” Dawnie skipped right over the part where this wasn’t her dog and held the dog out in front of her. “Nope, she looks like a Cuddles.”

“Her name is Roxy.” Mama made to grab the dog, but Dawnie turned away.

Dawnie turned huge, wounded eyes on Mama. “I almost drownded.” She added a sniffle. “If Cuddles had been there, I bet she would have saved me before I passed out.”

Mama stepped back and glanced at Lucky. “Dang, she’s good.”

Lucky nodded. “Manipulation’s in her DNA. She can’t help it.”

“I wish I could sleep with Cuddles. Maybe I wouldn’t have bad dreams or miss my mommy so much.” She punctuated that comment with a couple of sniffles.

“You don’t just stab a person through the heart, you pull out the dagger and ramp it in a couple of times.” Mama’s expression turned bland. “You can babysit Cudd—I mean Roxy—while I’m here, but she’s my dog.”

Dawnie shot her a yeah-right expression and turned back to the house. “Mandy, come meet my new puppy!”

“I just lost my dog, didn’t I?” Confusion muddled Mama’s face.

“You were no match for a five-year-old after a near-death experience.” Lucky patted her shoulder. “Don’t feel bad. She roped me into moving back here. Trust me, that kid has superhero powers.”

“Damn.” Mama nodded. “That kid’s my kryptonite.”

“You didn’t stand a chance.” Lucky shook her head. “She can outmaneuver the most skilled negotiator.” Pride filled Lucky. Dawnie wasn’t hers, but that didn’t diminish the motherly pride.

“You owe me a puppy.” Mama Cherie maneuvered herself into one of the leather chairs in Will’s office.

Before, it had been Ricky’s office, but Will had changed out the tacky furnishings with a few things from his condo, taken down all the pictures, left up the gold and platinum records, and set up shop. Being a music agent hadn’t been his dream job, but it had turned out okay. His two middle-grade clients paid most of the bills, but hopefully, soon he’d sign a new client … Mandy.

Maybe. He still hadn’t talked to her about her talent. He needed to let it sink in. He’d crunch some numbers, and then they’d talk.

He turned the lever that opened the blinds. Lucky was picnicking in the backyard with the girls. Lucky blew bubbles into the air from a long wand, and Dawnie and her puppy chased them. This happy snapshot went straight to his heart.

Lucky made everything special.

“So I see.” Will smiled. The puppy found a biscuit from the giant fried chicken feast that Lucky had bought at Popeye’s. In accordance with his healthy eating rule, she’d tossed a bag of salad at him as she’d walked by his office. The girls had wanted a picnic, so Lucky had put everything in a picnic basket, she’d laid a blanket on the ground, and they were picnicking. It was wonderful to watch.