Page 103 of Extended Bridge

My guess is the actual number is pretty high if she started off this negotiation at ten percent. I’ll give her another week but if anything else happens, I need to be there. It doesn’t matter what’s going on with UC. Our conversation ends with me promising to send her a previously unseen photo of the guitarist. And drummer.

On the table, Bennett’s phone rings again and the name “Ma” appears. The shower’s running. She’s probably worried after seeing Lissa’s interview. I sit straighter. No way could she be as bad as he says. I swipe his phone. “Hello?”

An older woman’s voice asks, “Who’s this?”

“Mrs. Hardy, this is Jenna Westfield. I’m, ah, friends withyour son.” Not sure he’d want me to classify our relationship differently with his mother.

“Oh you are, are you? Westfield. You’re the one people call the Black Widow?”

Thinking this wasn’t my best idea, I deflect. “Bennett’s taking a shower.” Crap. That sounded bad. I plow ahead, “Can I take a message?”

“Now you’re his secretary too?” When I remain silent, she continues, “Well, tell mysonthat I saw the interview with Lissa. Let him know I remember when he was in high school and fawning all over the girl like a lovesick puppy. I also recall his father dying on me.” She huffs into the telephone. “Just a few moments later, mysonleft me behind to join that damn band of his, and never looked back. If his sister were here, she never would’ve abandoned me like he did. Got all that?”

Her venom is palpable, and it spikes my own simmering anger. In as even a tone as I can muster, I reply, “I’ll let him know you won’t be any help in rebutting Lissa’s claims.”

“Damn straight.”

She starts to say something else, but I’m done. I don’t want to hear it, so I pretend to have a bad connection and disconnect the call. The man never stood a chance with such a loathsome woman in his house.

Next, my phone chirps with an incoming text. Seriously? Who else wants to bother me today? My sister’s name appears.

I know you’re busy, but I’m having a hard time juggling kids, work, and hospital runs.

Hospital runs? I thought she and her husband had this all figured out. Between her schedule as an anesthesiologist and herhusband’s cosmetic surgery practice, things always seemed to be organized chaos in their home.

What are you talking about?

How don’t you know?

She can be so dramatic!

Tell me

Ma’s been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. She has weeks to months to live

My phone falls to the floor, my sister’s texts bouncing off the walls of my mind. Especially “How don’t you know?”

Howdon’tI know?

Because I’ve been playing physical therapist with a cocky rock star, who swept me off my feet and away from all my ethics.

Because I delved into the fantasy life of touring, with everything I needed provided at the crook of a finger.

Because Ma called me several times and Bennett distracted me from answering, causing me to treat her almost the same way his awful mother treats him.

On a sob, I rush to my suitcase, tossing my clothes into it without caution.

The bathroom door opens and Bennett comes out, wearing atowel around his waist, UC pendant hanging off his necklace, and wet hair framing his face. “Where are you going?”

“Home! I never should have left!”