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But canceling would have caused more stress. I’d already taken a half day off work and I’d have to find a way to make it up to her if I didn’t go. It would be easier to get it over with. Then I could move on with my day.
Garrett had come to check things out and the forensics team had been on their way when I’d left. Poor Max wanted to go out and play with the nice cops, but I had to leave him inside. I couldn’t take him with me, either. The Pinecrest Country Club wasn’t a dog-friendly establishment. Too fancy for that.
And let’s be honest, my mom wasn’t really dog friendly either.
I parked outside the large building fronted with beige stone. Golf carts were parked in specially labeled parking spaces and the landscaping was so well-manicured, it looked too perfect.
Sort of like my childhood.
Before I got out of my car, I took a few deep breaths, steeling myself for what was essentially a public appearance. The Pinecrest Women’s Club was made up of mostly middle-aged to retirement-age women. Some of them were business owners. Others were married to local politicians or prominent businesswomen. On the surface, they were all about supporting education and community programs to help those in need. In reality, they were the queen bees of Pinecrest—the grown-up version of the popular girls in high school.
I could still remember when my mom had been offered admission. Forget her wedding day or the birth of her only child. I was certain that had been the happiest day of her life.
With one last breath, I got out. Despite the chaos of the morning, I’d remembered to dress appropriately. I’d chosen a simple yellow dress with a scalloped hem and nude heels. What I hadn’t remembered to do was check for dog hair. I dug a lint roller out of my purse and did my best.
I went inside and veered toward the restaurant. The one good thing about these events was the food.
I’d make the best of it.
Mom was already there, looking slender and perfectly put together in her white pantsuit. She smiled warmly when she saw me and I felt a little guilty for wondering how much of that smile was real and how much was for show.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Audrey, dear.” She kissed next to each of my cheeks. “You look lovely. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Thanks. It’s actually been a little bit crazy but—”
“You remember Mrs. Sheffield, don’t you?”
Smiling like she hadn’t just cut me off, I turned to greet the woman. She had white hair and was dressed in a hot pink blazer and beige pants. “Hi, Mrs. Sheffield. Nice to see you again.”
Her hand was cool and dry when we shook but I managed to keep any reaction off my face.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She didn’t let go of my hand. “How have you been? On second thought, I see Jessica O’Malley just walked in. We’ll catch up later.”
She dropped my hand and moved past me to greet someone else.
Okay, then.
The next twenty minutes or so were spent making the rounds with my mother. She introduced me to a long list of women I was probably supposed to know but didn’t really remember. I’d never been great with names or faces. They either appeared disinterested in me, which elicited an even cooler response from my mom, or they gushed about how accomplished I was and how proud my mother must be. There wasn’t much in between.
And accomplished? I had no idea what they were talking about, but I could guess. There was no way my mother would have admitted to any of these ladies that my career hadn’t gone very far, that I’d spent months unemployed, or that I’d taken a job at a rinky dink newspaper so I could pay rent and keep buying dog food.
Mom’s version must have sounded a lot better than reality.
Finally, the buffet opened. Mom hesitated, watching as people found places at the round tables. A moment or two later, she seemed to decide and gestured for me to follow. After placing the cloth napkins on the backs of our chairs, claiming them as ours, we went to the buffet to dish up.
The food did look good and miracle of miracles, my mother didn’t say a word about what I put on my plate. I decided to be thankful for small blessings and took my breakfast back to my seat.
After putting down my plate, I peeked at my phone, hoping for a message from Josiah.
I was disappointed.
“So, Audrey,” one of the women across from me said. “Patrice tells us you’re living in Tilikum. How do you like it?”
I’d already forgotten her name. I had a fleeting wish that they wore name tags at these things, but the women in this group were accustomed to everyone knowing who they were.
“It’s nice. I like it a lot.”
