She searches my face for another second, then nods. She does not push. She trusts me to tell her when I can, and that does something dangerous to my chest.
After she leaves, I make the calls Ghost needs me to make and put the north lodge cabins at his disposal. Then my phone rings again.
Mother.
I close my eyes before answering. “What?”
“Well,” my mother says, far too pleased with herself, “that is no way to speak to the woman who gave you life.”
“You gave me life so you could micromanage it and interrupt me.”
“And I did a beautiful job.” Her voice brightens. “The Everpine presidential suite, Jordan?”
My jaw tightens. “Who told you?”
“My darling boy, I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Mother.”
“Do not take that tone with me. Tina, the manager’s wife, called me this morning.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“You are with a woman.”
“I said I’m hanging up.”
“Is she pretty?”
I say nothing.
Mother gasps. “She is pretty.”
“I’m busy.”
“You are at a hotel with a woman you refuse to discuss. That is work of the highest spiritual importance.”
“Goodbye.”
“Bring her to dinner.”
“No.”
“Brunch?”
“No.”
“Coffee?”
“Mother.”
She laughs, soft and smug. “I am happy for you.”
I do not answer.
“I mean it,” she says. “You sound different.”
“You don’t know anything.”
