Free Buzzkill (Pecan Bayou Series) by Teresa Trent Page B

I was being led around by a mother I barely knew. It just didn’t
seem right.
    I set the alarm
function on my phone and placed it on the coffee table. Somehow I had to get
enough sleep for whatever tomorrow would bring. I closed my eyes and started
drifting off, then a flash of light hit me.
    “Oh sorry,
Betsy. I was looking for the TV remote for the bedroom.” Charlotte again.
“Would you know where that is? I just can’t fall asleep without the TV on. A
bad habit, I know, but I’ve been doing it for years.”
    “Look in the
bedside table drawer,” I said.
    “Thank you.
Sweet dreams. Do you want me to tuck you in? You used to love that when you
were small. I can still remember how I would sing to you, ‘Lavender blue, dilly
dilly lavender green …’” She stopped singing and her eyes met mine. “Do you
remember?”
    I punched down
the cushion again. “You sang that to me? I used to sing that song to my dolls
as a little girl. No wonder.”
    “No wonder,” she
repeated softly. She nodded and headed back into my room. I closed my eyes
again and heard the music of a late-night talk show blasting from the bedroom.
This was going to be a very long night. I was about to put a pillow over my
head when my phone chirped out the song for Leo’s ring, “Goin’ to the chapel,
and we’re gonna get married.”
    “Hey there,
beautiful,” said Leo. “How’s it going? So what’s this I hear about a big surprise?”
Thank God it was Leo.
    “Oh that. I
never said it was a good surprise.” I knew I should have called him two days
ago, but I didn’t want to bother him at his conference.
    “Oh boy. What
happened?”
    “Charlotte
happened. Hold on.” I remembered she was only a few steps down the hall and
rose from the couch. I grabbed my blanket, tiptoed through the den and out onto
the porch. Fog swirled around the streetlight, and I pulled the warmth I had
tightly around me. I felt the porch swing for dampness, and finding the seat
dry enough, settled in. Surely she wouldn’t be able to hear me out there.
    “Okay, now we
can talk.”
    “Charlotte as in
Charlotte Kelsey?” asked Leo.
    “The one and
only.” I felt my throat thickening as tears started hitting my cheeks and
quickly chilling in the January air.
    “She’s in Texas?
I thought you said she would ignore the invitation just like everything else
you’ve sent her.”
    “Surprise,” I
squeaked out as I felt a sob start to hit my throat. For the past few days I
had tried to remain understanding and tolerant. Bringing her here had hurt most
of the people I loved, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Hearing Leo’s voice on
the phone unleashed all of the pent-up emotion I had been holding in since
Charlotte had arrived.
    “What’s she
like?”
    “She’s okay, I
guess. She seems nice, but somehow she has gotten herself entangled in all the
wedding plans, and she’s sleeping in my bed right now.” My words started
breaking up with unexpected sobs.
    “Where are you?”
    “Wishing I were
in Dallas, with you.”
    He sighed and
his voice hit his lower register. “You have my vote on that one.”
    “No, not for
that, I just feel … trapped,” I said. “She and Aunt Maggie are going at it,
every chance they get.”
    “What? How’s
Maggie?”
    “Not good.
Barely speaking to me.”
    “You need to do something
about that. Making Aunt Maggie angry is like short-sheeting Mother Teresa.”
    I rubbed my
temples, trying to ward off the headache that had appeared in the last hour.
“It’s not as easy as that. She has a way of grabbing hold.”
    “Like a tick?”
    I sniffed and
caught myself laughing softly. “Sort of. Aunt Maggie’s mad at me, and my dad
isn’t returning my calls.”
    “Whatever
happened between them?”
    “I can see now I
never really got the full story,” I said. “I was told she left town with
another cop from the department. They moved to California and married. He
worked as a cop out there, and she was an artist.”
    I