Which was nuts.
I caught myself from falling back and hitting Maxine, andinstead fell forward and moaned, “God, we’re incrazytown.”
Again, her gaze slid to Maxine.“She hit her head fallingoff a horse as a little girl?”
My momma had fallen in love.
That wasn’t surprising either.
“Yes,” I confirmed softly, gave her a second with that, andthen pressed on.“Mom, we have to go to the constabulary.We have to get ourstory straight.Fleuridia.Where we lived.Howwelived.How Dad-not-Dad brought us back.Who knows what he’s going to do andsay?”
She came and sat in front of me on the bed.“Not much he cansay, baby.You look exactly like her.And I look exactly like a portrait in hisstudy.If no one knows of our world, then what other explanation can he have?”
I’d noticed that painting, after Loren kissed me stupid,when we were on the way out.
At least we had that going for us.
“We have to have it down,” I pushed.“Twenty years of it.Oran outline we can stick to.And you’re going to have to have a crash course inliving in his world and doing it like a lady.And sorry to say, that part isgoing to have to start tonight too.Loren’s going to be here at nine forbreakfast.”
“You like him.”
“He saved you.”
“No, you like him.”
“He’s hot.
“No, youlikehim.”
Gods damn it!
“Yeah,” I whispered.“I like him.”
She assumed an expression I never saw on her.A mix of sadand worried and happy and hopeful.
I totally got that expression.
Living it.
“You’re right, as ever, my brilliant daughter,” she saidsoftly.“We have no choice.We go at this one day at a time.”
Yes.
That was it.
That was always it, what we always did.
I grabbed her hand and held on.
And repeated, “Yeah, Mom.One day at a time.”
Mom then struck her claim (again).
“You, me and, well…Maxine.”
I held fast and repeated firmly.
“You, me and our Maxine.”
