Page 44 of Worth the Trip

I answered and leaned back against the headboard. “Good morning.”

“It must be. You sound rested.”

“I slept.”

“That ain’t what I said.”

I smiled. “What did you say?”

“You sound rested. Lighter too.”

“Might be the water.”

“Might be a woman.”

A laugh came before I could stop it. “Why everything gotta be a woman?”

“Because water never put amusement in your voice.”

I looked toward the stained shirt.

She had evidence.

“I met somebody at the festival.”

“I knew it. What’s her name?”

“Nolani.”

Mama repeated it once. “Pretty.”

“She is.”

“And?”

“And I let her leave without getting her number.” The silence on the other end lasted long enough to qualify as judgment. “I was respecting her time.”

“You can respect a woman and still ask a question.”

“I am painfully aware of that now.”

“Apparently not soon enough.”

I laughed and rubbed a hand over my beard. “You called to check on me or coach me?”

“Both. Since you insist on treating rest like an opponent, somebody gotta make sure you don’t turn a weekend off into independent study. Go eat. Enjoy the town. And if the Lord is gracious enough to put that young lady back in front of you, don’t stand there looking educated and confused.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And call your daddy later.”

“I will.”

Mama hung up without another word. She had delivered the scouting report, made the adjustment, and apparently trusted her personnel.

I showered, got dressed, and spent longer than necessary deciding between two shirts before getting irritated with myself. I had never needed a committee meeting to put on clothes before. Nolani had been in my life one day and already had me looking at a navy polo like it needed to justify its selection.

I put it on.