Page 59 of Phishing for Love
Kenzie:It’s an owl.
Tess:An owl being tortured?
Kenzie:It’s calling for its mate.
Sofia:Yes. ‘Help me, mate, I’m being tortured.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ever since I started working at Amell Greetings, I’ve had various weird and scary work nightmares: Arriving naked at work, mistakenly thinking it’s a Saturday and not showing up at the office, being unprepared for an important presentation, my sister marrying Rick in a moment of desperate madness.
None of my nightmares, though, feature my mother standing unexpectedly in my cubicle, beaming down at me.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I ask. “We’re supposed to meet at Giovanni’s at one.” I glance at my watch. “You’re twenty minutes early.”
And you’re here, in my building, in my cubicle. The very last place I want you to be.
Her smile widens. “I decided to surprise you.”
My jaw hangs open and I give her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look.
My mom gave birth to me. She’s nursed me, changed my diapers, dried my tears, comforted me, suffered through my teenage mood swings, and cheered me on through college. She’s known me for twenty-eight years and you’d think that after all those years she’d know that Ihatesurprises with every fiber of my being.
But here she is,surprisingme.
She waves away my discomfort. “I love seeing where you work.”
I’m going to kill Mevia for not providing me with any advance warning. She was no doubt bribed with cookies. I glance down. Sure enough, my mother is holding a Tupperware container.
“Mrs. M,” calls out Sofia in delight.
“Hi, Mrs. Miller,” Kenzie greets her, almost shyly.
Mom’s face lights up and she gives them each a motherly hug. “Sofia! Kenzie!”
There’s a lot of compliments and fussing over hair and clothes. My two friends adore Joelle Miller.
Unable to hold out any longer, Sofia eyes out my mother’s container. “Please tell me you’re about to brighten up our Monday with your famous oatmeal and raisin cookies.”
Mom’s eyes twinkle as she prizes off the lid. “I baked them this morning.”
Sofia and Kenzie fall on the cookies like children. While they gush over them, I notice my mother’s gaze casually trail the rabbit warren of cubicles. I stiffen. It’s almost as though she’s looking for something. Or someone. Realization dawns on me and my heart thumps. All of a sudden, I’m in a massive hurry to get my meddling mother out of the building.
“All right, Mom, time to go.”
“Already?” my mom protests.
Sofia looks slightly panicked. “What about the cookies?”
I thrust the container at her. “Keep them. I’ll return the container to my mom this week.”
“Tess, are you okay?” Kenzie asks carefully. “You’re acting a little strange.”
“As long as we can keep the cookies,” Sofia interjects, “she can act as strange as she wants.”
“Of course, you can keep them,” Mom says. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to properly catch up.”
“Next time,” Sofia says.
