“Mom,” I cut off her celebratory announcement. “Cheyenne’s not coming with me to Indiana. We have to take care of something, so my trip got pushed back a couple of days.”
Cheyenne dug her fingers into my arm so hard I was sure there was going to be a half-moon imprint from her nails and whisper shouted, “No!”
“What about my birthday?”
“I just have to take care of something first—”
“He’s coming!” Cheyenne spoke over me. “He’ll be there. Tomorrow.”
“Oh, good! You had me scared for a minute. See you both soon! Love you a bushel and peck.” With her signature sign off the line disconnected.
My mother was the queen of stopping when you’re ahead. My dad had been a vacuum salesman and he always said to get out when you got the answer you wanted. He said that most sales were lost because idiots kept asking questions.
As soon as the music from the radio began to play again, Cheyenne slapped my arm. “You lied. You said you were going fishing!”
“I am,” I answered honestly.
Her head tilted to the side as a look that told me she didn’t believe a word that I’d said.
“My mom lives close to a lake,” I explained. “Mitch, her new husband, has been inviting me to come up and go fishing for years. Look, my gear’s in the back.”
“Your mom said that it’s her birthday.”
“It is. And I won’t miss it.” Her actual birthday was in three days, but her party was the day after tomorrow. I might miss that, but I would not miss her actual birthday. “I’m going to head up there right after we get back from Nashville.”
“No. You’re going to see your mom. Now.” Cheyenne was furiously typing on her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for a car rental or bus.”
I pulled the truck over on the side of the road.
“What are you doing?!” she repeated the question I’d just asked her but she was looking at me like I had lost my mind.
“No.” I turned toward her. “You are not renting a car or going on the bus.”
Her chin jutted out the way it did when she was being stubborn. It was adorable, even though it was frustrating.
I knew that the subject of parents, anyone’s parents, was a very sensitive subject to her. Whenever we’d be at the bar and someone would be complaining about having to go see their parents or something one of their parents had done, her entire demeanor would change.
There was one particular time that I remembered Nadia complaining about having to pick her mama up from the airport in Savannah at six in the morning. When the conversation moved on, I’d noticed that Cheyenne was quiet. Really quiet. I asked what was wrong. With her voice barely a whisper she said, “I’d do anything to be able to pick my mom up from the airport.”
I’d known, of course, that losing her mom must have affected her deeply. But it was moments like those that really showed the trauma it had caused.
Since I knew arguing that my mom would be fine if I wasn’t there for a few days wasn’t going to be the route that would lead to convincing her, I figured I’d try something else. “Cheyenne, please. I don’t want you driving to Nashville alone. You don’t know what you’re going to be faced with once you get there. Just let me take you there first, then take you home and I’ll fly to see my mom if it’s cutting it close. It really isn’t a big deal. I’ll make up the days to her. I have the rest of the week off. And if I need to take more time I can.” I had another two weeks on the books of vacation time and I needed to use it before the summer rush, which was coming up. “Please. Let me do this.”
I watched as Cheyenne carefully considered my plea. Finally, her nose scrunched up and her lips pursed. She didn’t have to answer me. I knew that face, it was her reluctant resignation face.
Even though I was pretty certain of her decision, I still wanted to have verbal confirmation. “Okay?”
With a sigh, she agreed, “Okay.”
The engine roared back to life and I pulled back onto the highway.
“I sort of remember your mom. She was very…”
“Colorful?”