“Wouldn’t hurt. But a witness’d probably do just as well. Come on now.”
“Can you record this call?”
“Don’t do that, Uma. Get out of there.”
“What about 911 calls? They’realwaysrecorded, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“All right. Thanks.”
She ended the call and dialed before getting out and walking across the yard.
“Hey, sweetie pie. You miss us?”
Joey Chisholm stood on Ms. Lloyd’s front porch, smiling that white-toothed grin and looking ten years older than the last time Uma had seen him.
Beside him stood her mother.
“You were supposed to meet me at the coffee shop.”
“I like this better,” he said, looking around. “All this rustic charm. It’s so much more personal, don’t you think?”
“You need to leave now.”
“I don’t think so, sweetie. You calledme, remember? And here I am.” He threw his arms out and lifted an eyebrow in a move that was pure Joey. His self-deprecating charmer shtick stolen directly from Frank Sinatra.
Forcing a deep breath, she looked at her mother as she went up the steps. “What are you doing here, Mom?”
“Uma, love.” Uma let her mother hug her, but when Joey made to move, her hand went up. There would be no touching from him. Ever again.
“We stopped by to celebrate.” Joey held up a massive bottle.
“I’ll pass, thanks.” She met his gaze when she spoke, forced herself to be strong, but kept her eyes moving. She wouldn’t trust him for a second.
“Why don’t you invite us in? It’s real French Champagne—your favorite. Perfectly chilled.”
“No.” Fucking champagne. Always with the white wine and the champagne. Lady drinks. He’d never stopped grooming her to be a lady. Well, forget it. She was no lady, goddamn it.
She’d take moonshine over champagne any day.
She turned to her mother, her attention still focused on Joey. “When did you get back?”
“I flew into Dulles a couple of days ago, and I’m just barely over the jet lag. Such a crazy trip. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is? Delhi to Paris is fine. All the Hindis are so respectful, quiet. And the vegan menu’s wonderful, but my goodness, the Paris to DC flight was just a mess. I—”
“What brings you back to the States?”
She blinked. “You, of course, sweetie! You! How could you—”
“I take it Joey called and asked you to come get me.”
“He said you’d disappeared off the face of the earth, but he thought you might be close. He traced your phone to central Virginia. He was worr—”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m fine now. You can go back to the ashram.”
Her mom’s eyebrows pulled down into that little-girl frown she did when puzzled. “I came all this way to see you!”
There were two ways of dealing with this: the easy way would be to thank her and pretend to want this.
