ted foul play was behind a text from her.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“This whole idea worries me.” Her mother made fretting noises. “Why couldn’t you have stayed in Redondo Beach to write your songs? Why did you have to go to some resort in Ohio?”
Audra wanted to laugh. No one would mistake Harmony Cabins for a resort. But this probably wasn’t a good time to tell her mother that.
“We discussed this, Mom. Benita thought a change of scenery would cure my writer’s block.” And even though she had her doubts, Audra didn’t want to add to her parents’ worries.
Ellen tsked. “How long will you be gone?”
They’d discussed that, too. “About a month.”
“You’ve never been away from home that long.”
“I know, Mom.”
“You don’t even know anything about that resort.”
“Benita’s friend owns the cabins. I’m sure I’ll be comfortable here.”
“How will you eat?”
“There’s a town nearby. I’ll pick up some groceries in the morning.”
“What do they eat there?”
Audra closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “I’m in Ohio, Mom. It’s not a foreign country. I’m sure I’ll find something familiar in the town’s grocery store.”
Ellen sniffed. “There’s no need to take that tone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Your father’s very worried about you, Audra.”
Yet her mother was the one on the phone. “Tell Dad I’ll be fine. The cabin is clean and safe. There are locks on all the doors and windows. I’ll be home before you know it.” She hoped.
Audra looked toward the windows beside the front door. She needed curtains. She didn’t like the idea of the windows being uncovered, especially at night. She’d feel too exposed. She checked her wristwatch. It wasn’t quite three in the afternoon. It wouldn’t be dark until closer to nine at night. She had a few hours to figure something out, like hanging sheets over the windows for tonight.
Her mother’s abrupt sigh interrupted her planning. “Your father wants to talk with you. Maybe he can get you to see reason.”
Audra rubbed her eyes with her thumb and two fingers. This experiment was hard enough without her mother’s overprotectiveness.
“My Grammy-winning daughter!” Randall Lane boomed his greeting into the telephone. He’d been calling her that since she’d been presented with the Song of the Year Grammy Award in February. Before that, she’d been his Grammy-nominated daughter.
Audra settled back on the overstuffed plaid sofa. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Will you be home in time for my birthday?” She frowned. Her father’s birthday was in October. It was only July. “Of course.”
“That’s all that matters.”
“Randall!” Ellen’s screech crossed state lines. “Give me back that phone!”
“Your mother wants to speak with you again. Have a nice time in Ohio, baby.”
Her mother was as breathless as though she’d chased her father across the room. “Aren’t there coyotes and bears in Ohio? And mountain lions?”
Audra’s heart stopped with her mother’s questions. She was a West Coast city woman in the wilds of the Midwest. Talk about being a fish out of water.