at the country club. “Just wanted to remind you about tonight. Pick you up at 6:00. I thought we’d have dinner at Maxwell’s.... Love you.”
“Oh no,” Angel groaned. She’d forgotten all about their date. The last thing she felt like doing was going to a restaurant, especially one like Maxwell’s. The restaurant sat atop the three-story Smith building and gave diners a perfect view of the beach. Normally she enjoyed eating there, but not today. Please not today .
Angel reached for the phone to call him back and even punched in the number. But then she hung up. She couldn’t say why; maybe she just needed to do something other than think about the shooting. And Brandon would provide a good diversion.
She was just about to sit down on the couch when the phone rang again. This time she gave up and answered.
“Angel, honey. It’s your mother.”
“I know.” Angel rolled her eyes. For some strange reason, her mother always felt compelled to preface every phone conversation with her identity.
“Your father told me what happened. I’m so sorry. It’s a terrible thing, honey, even if you were just doing your job like he said. You shouldn’t be alone, sweetheart.”
“I’m okay, Ma. It’s not a big deal.”
“Since when is shooting someone not a big deal?”
“You want me to feel worse than I already do?” Angel rubbed at the beginnings of a headache. “Ma, please. I don’t want to talk about it, all right? I feel bad. And I’m really sorry all this happened.”
“Of course you are.” She paused. “Listen, sweetheart, I made a chocolate cake this morning before church. Your favorite. I’m bringing some over.” With the change in subjects came a change in tone. Angel had never been able to figure out how her mother could make the switch so abruptly. Nothing seemed to bother her, at least not for very long.
“You don’t have to do that.” In fact, please don’t . But she couldn’t bring herself to say this. She loved her mother’s chocolate cake.
“Of course, I don’t, but it’s what mothers do. I’m coming, no argument.” She hung up.
Angel thought seriously about leaving. She didn’t want to deal with her mother on top of everything else. Ma was the kind of woman who’d love you to death if you let her. Which was one of the reasons Angel had moved into her own place. Now that her kids had grown up, Anna spent most of her time taking care of other people. But she had loved having Angel come back to what she called her empty nest. She still thought of Angel as her baby girl and probably always would.
When Angel had decided it was time to move into her own place again, her mother objected.
“Stay, Angel. We have plenty of room.”
“It isn’t right, my living at home anymore,” Angel told her. But she hadn’t dared tell the real reason—she felt smothered. It wasn’t easy trying to fit back into the home she’d grown up in. There were too many memories, too much confusion; and instead of treating Angel like the adult she’d become, her parents acted as though she had never left home.
Angel, too, found herself reverting back to adolescence, back to a time when life was simpler, where burglaries, assaults, child abuse, and murders were light-years away. For a while it felt good to be cared for, but after six months she couldn’t handle it anymore. “You and Dad have raised your kids,” she told them. “You deserve some time alone.”
“And what would I do with more time?” Anna had asked. “The last thing I need is to be alone.”
“But you have Dad, and Tim’s kids.” Anna adored her grandchildren. But with five kids, she’d expected to have more than two, and she rarely missed an opportunity to let all of them know about it.
Anna waved her hand. “Your father doesn’t need me. And Tim and Susan are taking the kids to the new day care at the hospital. Please stay,” she pleaded. “It will give us time to get to know each other.”
“What do you