Page 52 of The Write Stuff

That was something I should have kept to myself. I only realized it when my mother made a face.

“What?” she demanded.

I sighed. “I didn’t tell you because she asked me not to. She was embarrassed.”

“Yes, I know.” Mom’s voice was cold and icy. “She said the same thing to me when I sent her money in Wyoming.”

“Hey!” Mick swung his gaze to Mom. “We agreed that you weren’t going to do that, and not because I want to be controlling or anything. We talked about how it was best for Lucy to start figuring things out on her own.”

“I know that, Mick.” Mom didn’t look contrite as much as mad. “I really did intend to follow through. It’s just … well, it’s Wyoming. I was afraid of what might happen if she had to get a second job.”

My eyebrows moved together as confusion took over. “I’m not sure what that means,” I admitted. “Why does it matter that she was in Wyoming?”

“I don’t know.” Mom’s shoulders hopped. “I just always assumed that most of those things in horror movies happened in places like Wyoming, where there aren’t a lot of people. Like that killer with the hockey mask? I totally believe that could have happened in Wyoming.”

“Yes, Crystal Lake, Wyoming,” I agreed dryly. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That is totally where the movie was set.”

“I hear the sarcasm,” Mom chided, shaking her head. She laughed at herself — or maybe both of us — and then sighed. “I should have checked to see if she was getting money from you, too.” She sounded as if she was angry at herself.

“It would have been smart,” I agreed on a sigh.

“Oh, don’t get too melancholy,” Mick interjected. “You keep helping because you love her. That’s a good thing. We all need to join together, though.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” I admitted. “Then Mom called to tell me to make up with Lucy.”

“Because I’m sick of her calling me and complaining about you,” Mom replied. “It’s painful.”

I could see where she was coming from. There was just one little problem. “It is painful, but she’s trying to fire you up so you’ll come to me — as you have — and then force me to go to her. If I go to her, she has the upper hand. She’ll press her advantage until I give in and tell her it’s okay for her to quit her job.”

“Oh, she can’t quit that job.” Mom shook her head. “If she quits now, we’ll never get her back working.”

I agreed. “That means that you’re going to have to suck it up with the phone calls,” I warned her, although something else occurred to me out of nowhere. “Or you could just send her to voicemail constantly instead of picking up.”

Mom’s eyebrows migrated up her forehead. “What now?”

“You could send her to voicemail over and over again,” I said. “She’ll get the picture eventually.”

“Yes, and then she’ll start texting me.”

“Leave her texts unread for a little bit,” I suggested. “She’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“But … isn’t that mean?” Mom looked between Mick and me, and I could tell she wanted one of us to say yes.

“It’s what has to happen,” Mick countered on a sigh. “Aggie, we all love Lucy. She has a good heart. She just needs to learn to be an adult.”

“I think it would help if she had other people to talk to,” Mom countered. “If she lost all her friends, who weren’t friends anyway, then she’s probably feeling persecuted.”

It was an interesting point, and I took a moment to think about it. Just then, the apartment door opened, and Lucy trudged in. She wasn’t dressed for work, which meant she’d been out doing something else.

“You didn’t quit, did you?” I demanded before thinking it through.

She scowled at me. “No. I have the day off. You know, even people who aren’t famous authors get days off.”

Guilt rolled through me, which was her intention. Mom was indeed famous, and it was sometimes daunting when dealing with people in the real world. If you mentioned who your mother was, you always wondered if people wanted to be close to you simply because they wanted to be fame-adjacent. I was grateful for my author friends because they could see beyond that.

“You know what?” I said out of the blue. “Since it’s your day off, you can come with me tonight.” It was out before I could decide if it was a good idea.

“And why would I want to do that?” Lucy sneered.