If work beckons, I have to answer, and this gives me that capability without pulling me out of the hot tub. But if I can put the work off at all, I will.
I’d do anything for my Lia.
“How you feeling, Alley Cat?” Eli asks as he holds her against him.
“This is so good, thank you,” Lia whispers as she lays her head on his shoulder.
“If you need anything, let us know,” Knox says as he settles beside me.
I watch Eli while he watches her. There’s so much passing behind his eyes. I need to check in with him later. Make sure he’s good.
This is almost certainly kicking up memories of his time with Amber’s mother, and I know in my own way that grief can be a bitch, even during the best of times.
Until the familiar buzzing of my cell phone catches my attention.
“Need to go?” Knox asks.
Lia whimpers out a heartbroken sound.
“Not if I can solve it over the phone. Hold on,” I say as I shake my hands off and reach for my phone.
Only to see that it’s not work calling at all.
It’s my mother.
And if I don’t answer, she’ll just keep calling until I do.
“I’ll make this quick,” I say as I answer the phone.
“Sweetheart!” she exclaims as wind rushes in the background. “How are you?”
“Mom,” I say as I peer around at everyone in the hot tub. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course everything’s all right. I just wanted to call. See how you were.”
“How’s the vineyard?” Dad exclaims in the background.
“Put me on speaker, Mom,” I say as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Can’t! We’re riding!”
It takes me a second to put together what she’s talking about. “You and Dad rented a motorcycle?”
“Woooohoo!” Dad yelps as wind continues rushing through the phone. “This is the life.”
I tilt my head toward the ceiling and sigh. “Vineyard’s good. I’m good. You guys good?”
“Always so grumpy,” Mom says in a voice that’s a little too loud. “We wanted to let you know that we’re heading from Charleston to Myrtle for the next couple of weeks. We won’t be back when we planned.”
That makes me grin. “Good. I’m glad you’re finally enjoying retirement. Are you two wearing helmets?”
“What are we, twelve?” Mom asks. “Of course we’re wearing helmets.”
A horn honks in the background and I snicker. “Tell Dad to stay in the lane if he’s going to be driving.”
Mom barks with uninhibited laughter. “I maybe shouldn’t have worn one of my dresses. I think I’m giving everyone a show.”
I groan. “Mom.”
