Page 34 of Lucky 22

“Hey, Mom,” I say as I answer the phone, and I almost cringeat how depressed I sound. “How are you?”

“Oh, my goodness. What’s wrong? Is it bad news? Did you losea role? Are you sick?”

I surprise myself by laughing a little. “I’m not sick, andall of my roles are safe.”

“Hmm…okay. Are things going okay in general? Are youhomesick? Did you and Jen have a fight? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

I laugh a littlemore. “Mom, everything’s fine. I promise. I always miss you, Dad, and everyone.Jen and I were just having breakfast in bed, so…”

“Breakfast in bed?” she repeats, and I can hear theconfusion in her voice.

“I’m a little sad today, and Jen was trying to cheer me up.She went and got us muffins and cheesecake, and I was drinking tea and—”

“Ah. The sad tea party. Okay. Okay.” She pauses for a secondbefore I hear her gasp. “Oh, sweetheart, why? Did your date to the premierewith Christian not go well? I was trying not to bug you, but you have to knowI’ve been dying to call.”

“You know you can always call me. I love talking to you.”

“So, tell me what’s going on.”

I gingerly maneuver around on the bed, placing my plate nextto my teacup on the bedside table before fluffing my pillow and gettingcomfortable. And then I tell her all about the last week. The first date, allthe conversations and phone calls with Christian afterward, the premiere, hisinjury, and his going to Arizona for physical therapy.

“Oh, wow. That poor boy. You know he’s got to be a wreckworrying about getting better. This is his livelihood. You know what that’slike, Ella. You know if there was something you needed to do to keep acting,you’d do it. And you have.”

“I know that,” I say.

“And it isn’t always convenient. It isn’t always easy. Butwhen you’re passionate about your career, you do what needs to be done.”

I nod and try not to get frustrated because I’m ready tosnap, “I know that, Mom!”, but she’s only being helpful. It’s not herfault that I’m in a miserable mood.

“We just really hit it off, and now he’s going to be gonefor a few weeks—maybe a month—and, you know, that’s why I’m sad.”

“Obviously, you’ll be able to talk to him,” she reasons. “Hewon’t be in physical therapy all day, every day, so there’s that. And he canfly back on the weekends. Is that an option? I know it’s not cheap, and itmight not be completely practical, but maybe you two can trade off, him cominghome one weekend and then you visiting him the next.”

“He actually asked me to go with him,” I murmur.

“And you turned him down?” she asks incredulously.

If I were sipping my tea, I would have spit it clear acrossthe room.

“Um, excuse me? Are you telling me I should have followed aman I just met to another state and stayed in a hotel with him?”

“Well, I’m not saying you need to share a room with him,”she says primly.

I’m honestly in total shock right now because it soundslike my sweet, little, Southern, Christian mama is encouraging me to go andstay with him.

Well, not with him, but, you know, with him.

Ugh. When did my personal life get this crazy?

“Mom, come on. You can’t be serious.” I laugh nervouslyagain because I think she’s joking, and yet, she’s not.

“Ella, sometimes you have to claim what’s yours,” she sayswith complete confidence. “If you feel this strongly about him, and he feelsthe same about you, then you need to be with him.”

“But…”

“No buts. If you were anybody else, I would not encourage thisat all. But you, my sweet girl, are the most levelheaded person I know. Youdream big, and you always go after what you want. Why shouldn’t it be ChristianLucas?”

I have no response. She’s left me totally speechless.