Free Follow the Dotted Line by Nancy Hersage

about her lecture at UCLA?”
    A leading question, if ever Lilly had heard one. She took a leisurely sip of her wine and reclined in her lounge chair.
    “You think it would make a great movie, right?” she asked, evenly.
    Andy knew that Lil knew what she wanted. “I do. And you?”
    Lil smiled an unreadable smile. “So do I.”
    “Oh, my god, Lil! Do you think we could—”
    “Mom,” Lil interrupted. “It is a fabulous story. But I want you to think about what you’re asking. You know how impossible it is for me to do anything other than make it across the finish line every day with the kids still breathing.”
    “I know. But—”
    “I can hardly find my way to the bedroom at night.”
“I know, honey. But . . .”
    Lil was about to interrupt again, when the doorbell beat her to it. This time there was no mistaking the meaning of Lil’s satisfied grin.
    “Don’t say it,” Andy sniped.
    “Don’t say what?”
    “Saved by the bell.” And with that, she got up to answer the door.
    Harley, however, was already on his way.
    “You expecting someone, Mom?” Sam asked, as Andy passed through the dining room.
    “I don’t think so,” Andy answered.
    “FedEx,” Harley called from the entry.
    Lil stepped in from the patio, a drink in both hands. “What’d you order?”
    Andy couldn’t remember and was too embarrassed to admit it.
    The three women waited for Harley to return. He did, cradling a small package in his palms. He eyed his aunt, as if she should tell him what to do next.
    “What is it?” Andy asked, without thinking. But she remembered the minute he opened his mouth.
    “It’s the DNA,” he said.
    She glanced at her daughters, who were not about to skip the question begged by Harley’s unexpected answer. Talk about bad timing.
    “DNA?” Sam asked, the first to beg.
    Andy tried shrugging it off. “DNA,” she repeated, without explanation.
    Lil turned immediately to Harley, who would be far easier prey. “DNA?”
    Still caught in the powerful orbit of his older cousin, he caved without even bothering to look at his aunt.
    “Uncle Mark’s ashes,” he whispered. “We had them tested.”
    “You had them tested ?” Lil exploded.
    “Um. Yeah,” he whimpered. “At one of those places, you know?”
    But it was already obvious they didn’t know, so he ducked for cover. “I just assumed Aunt Andy told you.”
    Well played, she thought, as the girls turned their focus on her.
    “No,” said Sam, deliberately. “She did not. But I think that little discussion just arrived at the top of her to-do list.”
    Simultaneously, the sisters crossed their arms and waited. Not for the first time, Andy felt the parent-child relationship, right along with the sands of time, shifting beneath her.
    “I would like another margarita,” she declared, just to remind them she was still old enough to drink. “Then, and only then, will I tell you about the cremains.”

Chapter 8
    Cremains of the Day
    “What the hell are cremains?” asked Lilly.
    “It’s the industry term for ashes,” Andy said, after she got up and refilled the margarita glass herself. “Cremated remains. Cre-mains. Get it?” She waited, but the girls weren’t going to be sidetracked. “Okay. Okay. Here’s what happened. I just wanted to get some basic information. The cause of death. Did your dad have a will? Stuff like that. But getting that information is harder than you think without knowing just where and when he died and without, you know, technically being related to him anymore.”
    “Oh, my god,” said an alarmed Lil, “you didn’t try calling Tilda, did you?”
    “Me? Call Tilda? Absolutely not.” Andy shot optic daggers at Harley, who had no doubt about keeping his mouth shut this time. “All I had were the ashes, so I just went from there.”
    “From there—to where, Mom?” Sam asked.
    “Well, to at least confirming that he’s dead,” said Andy. “And that is what’s in the box. The DNA results from