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Mitzi waved her hand in the air. “Well, you know how your mother is. Always off on one adventure or another. And she’s terrible about checking in. I always admonish her about that when she comes to see me. I try to call my friends once a week, just to chat. I wish your mother and I could do that.”
“That would be nice.”
“I even invited her to move in with me, you know.”
Now that was a shocker. “You did? When?”
“Last time she was here. I told here she was getting too old to wander around like a vagabond. She needed to set down some roots, and I offered my home here as a place to plant her flag. God knows I have more space here than I know what to do with. And since I never had children, I have no grandchildren to come visit, so it’s just me, all alone here in this rambling house on the beach. Your mother loves the water. I figured it would be a perfect place for her to settle, since she and I get along so well.”
Elena leaned back in the chair with her glass. “And what did she say to that?”
“She thanked me profusely, of course. Your mother is always so incredibly polite. She said she’d give it some thought, but she was considering making other permanent plans with her life.”
Again, more secrets. “Did she mention what those permanent plans were?”
Mitzie laughed. “No, she didn’t. And despite my pressing her, she said she didn’t have everything in place yet, but when she had it all figured out, she’d be sure to come by and tell me all about it. And that was the last time I saw her, the little devil. I’ve been dying of curiosity ever since.”
And now, so was Elena.
Mitzie turned her attention on Jed, scoping him out like one would ripe tomatoes in the produce aisle. “So, Jed Templeton, tell me all about yourself. I need to decide if you’re good enough for my friend Carla’s daughter.”
Elena looked at Jed, who cast a gorgeous smile at Mitzie, then made up a rather dazzling bunch of lies about who he was.
Of course, he was really good at it, but this time she couldn’t fault him.
They finished their tea, visited with Mitzie for a while longer then left, with the promise to her that if they heard from Carla, they’d be sure to have her get in touch with Mitzie.
“Your mother has secrets,” Jed said.
“Yes, she does. I’d like to know what the hell was going on with her and what she was planning to do to change her life.”
Jed pulled onto the highway. “First, we have to find her. And no one seems to have seen her since she’s been missing. It appears you’re the last one to have had contact with her.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not good.”
The third person they went to see had a story much like the first two. Amanda was a hippie like her mother. She created glass art and Elena bought some of Amanda’s work for her shop. Elena saw Amanda rather regularly, so she had nothing much to offer, and she was kind of an airhead.
“Oh, wow, you know, I haven’t seen your mom for a while. I can’t remember when. I think it was the art fair in November. She helped me with my booth.”
Amanda, though in her fifties and her hair entirely gray, still wore pigtails, Birkenstocks and skirts that dusted the floor of her one-bedroom apartment. Her three cats wound around her ankles. And her voice was so soft Elena had to strain to hear her. Jed stood stoically in Amanda’s colorful kitchen and let Elena ask all the questions.
“Are you sure it was all the way back in November? You haven’t seen her since?” Elena had seen Amanda at least fifteen times since then. She would think Amanda might have mentioned not seeing her mother since then.
Amanda looked up at the ceiling as if she were hard in thought. “Uh, I don’t know. We did a Christmas show, too. She might have been there, but that could have been Veronica with me. I can’t recall.”
How the woman was able to maintain a successful business, Elena didn’t know. After spending a half hour grilling her, Elena knew they’d get nowhere with her. She thanked Amanda and they were off.
“What a ditz,” Jed said as they left.
“She is, but she’s also a brilliant artist.”
“If you say so. Her stuff looked like flea market junk.”
Elena laughed. “Clearly you don’t have a discerning eye for art. There’s a big difference in what she makes and your average crap.”
“Well, you know what they say. I might not know art, but I know what I like.”
They rendezvoused with Grange and Pete back at the restaurant.
