“Oh, that,” she said, batting away days of complaints and stress as easily as a circling gnat. “Classic workholeic behavior. I’m textbook, according to John.”
Okay, she was clearly drunk. “Do you mean workaholic? And who’s John?”
“Oh, sorry.” She laughed, the sound surprisingly... tinkly. Which was a word I had never associated with my mother, well, ever. “John Sheldon. He’s a former CEO and author we met on the plane. Wrote an entire book about the overworked business, corporate, obnoxious mentality all too prevalent these days. Workholes. Like assholes, but worse.”
“Right,” I said. “So you know this guy now?”
Another light laugh. “Well, we ended up chatting theentire flight, and then he invited us to dinner at his place. He keeps a second home here, to recharge and get away from the Nothing Olympics.”
“What?”
“It’s another one of his terms in his book. The competition we’re all in daily, so fiercely, to climb ahead of each other. And what’s the final prize? Nothing.”
Now I was getting concerned. “Is William around?”
“Sure. He’s right here. Hold on.”
Something rubbing the phone, followed by a muffled voice, sounded in my ear. Then William came on, sounding perfectly normal. Thank goodness. “Hey, Lou. Everything okay back home?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “How’s it going there?”
“Oh, great,” he replied. “I mean, everyone thinks I’m a concierge. But at least the tips are good.”
They both laughed at this. Normally, I would have, too. But I was distracted. “Mom sounds kind of crazy.”
He laughed. “I know, right? She’s a smitten kitten. You should see her when she’s actually with this guy. It’s like the cartoons, hearts in her eyes.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally.” I heard my mother say something, to which he replied, “Oh, please, it’s totally true and you know it. If I didn’t love you so much I’d be jealous to the point of depression. Also, all the drinks are included.”
More laughter. Meanwhile, I still couldn’t find the sunscreen.
“Hold on,” I said to William. “Mom actuallylikesthis guy?”
“I know, it’s insane. They only just met! But he’s taking her out on his boat today for lunch.”
“But she hates the water.”
“Apparently it’s different here? Or she is.” He snorted. “Anyway, don’t worry. We spent half of last night researching him on the Internet and he’s legit. Not my type, of course. But we can’t all get so lucky in first class.”
“We’re just friends,” I heard my mom call out, which was reassuring. Until she added, “For now, anyway.”
My phone beeped again: it was Jilly. “I need to go,” I said. “Call me later?”
“Will do,” William said cheerfully. “Miss you!”
“Love you!” my mom chimed in.
Everyone is insane, I thought as I clicked over to Jilly. “Hey,” I said. “Are we still on for ten?”
She sighed, answering this question. “I’m so sorry. Kitty has an earache and I have to take her to urgent care. Even if it’s not an infection, and it totally is, she can’t swim.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, I can come along, help with the kids.”
“That’s so nice of you!” she replied, as some kind of shrieking—in Baker family style, of indeterminate source—erupted behind her. “But to be honest, Michael Salem already offered to take them to the park with his little brothers for me. We’re all going for lunch at the truck later. You could meet us there, if you want.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just hang out here, I guess.”
