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Her phone rang. It was her mother.
“Hi, darling,” Audrey Baldwin greeted her daughter.
“Hi, Mom.”
“How was your weekend?”
Pretty boring until I had amazing sex with a ravishing woman who I now can’t stop thinking about, not that you would care.
“It was nice, Mom.”
“Did you do anything fun?”
Megan rolled her eyes. She had learned that “fun” was her mother’s euphemism for “go on a date.”
A date with a man.
With a man she could marry and have kids with.
“No, nothing fun, Mom.”
“We still on for lunch?”
Crap! Was that today? Has it been a month already?
“Of course, we are!” Megan answered. “My place, eleven-thirty?”
“Can’t we go out somewhere?” Audrey asked.
“Well, no,” Megan told her. “You do read the news, don’t you? There’s been a rise in Covid cases in the county and all the restaurants are back to doing take-out only for a while.”
“Oh...right. But, can’t we eat somewhere outside at least? It’s such a nice day, after all.”
After a moment’s thinking, Megan said, “I suppose we can eat at Hidden Canyon Park; have a picnic.”
“Perfect! See you then, darling.” Audrey said and then hung up.
The entire conversation could have been conducted via texting, Megan realized. In fact, most of her conversations with her mother could be conducted via texting, but that wasn’t Audrey’s way.
Megan checked her watch. Just past ten-fifteen, and since she was already dressed as if she had been planning on being in the office, all she really had to do to get ready for her mother’s arrival was call Vigilucci’s for a to-go order and go pick it up.
***
At Hidden Canyon Park, Megan found an empty picnic table and rested the bag from Vigilucci’s on it while waiting for her mother to arrive from La Jolla.
Her phone chimed. Megan frowned. A text from Cindy.
Thanks again for Friday. And thanks for being willing to come to the funeral. I think I’m going to need a normal person here to help because the Minnesota relatives have started to arrive and they’re already driving me crazy.
Megan’s frown deepened. Cindy had often talked about her Minnesota family, that they were basically good and decent people, just also sort of wacky in that small-town, Midwestern-caricature kind of way that someone like Penny Marshall would direct a movie about. But what was confusing Megan now was, why wasn’t Cindy’s man—the one Cindy left Megan for—helping Cindy cope with any craziness surrounding Carole’s funeral?
What was the fucker’s name again? Donald? Ronald?
Megan quickly typed a reply.
Just focus on what’s important but let them help if they can. Don’t try to do everything on your own like you normally do! This is hard enough for you, don’t overdo it and end up making yourself more miserable than you already are. I’ll be there Thursday but I don’t know what time yet.
She swallowed, feeling her hand going clammy. She didn’t ask about Donald or Ronald but if Megan had to show up in Coachella and run interference for Cindy during this difficult time, Megan was going to be sure to give Donald or Ronald an earful about him being a useless twat.
