“Can you bring her back?” The words were harsh, rough, and raw.
Doreen looked stricken. “I can no more bring back your daughter than I can resurrect my late husband.”
Paul Fever had died from cancer more than a year ago. He’d been sixty-seven. In contrast, leukemia had cut his daughter’s life tragically short.
Jack struggled to reel in his emotions. “People grieve in different ways.”
Pity reappeared in Doreen’s warm brown eyes. “I went through the same feelings. But, Jack, at some point, you have to rejoin society.”
“Not today.” Some days, he feared he’d never be ready.
Caring about people hurt. He’d loved his ex-wife and his daughter. He never again wanted to experience the pain losing them had caused. If anything, the experience had taught him that it was better not to let people get too close.
The persistent ringing shattered Audra’s dream. She blinked her eyes open. Had she fallen asleep?
Her gaze dropped to the song stanzas scribbled across the notebook on her lap. Was it the red-eye flight or her lyrics that had lulled her to sleep?
She stretched forward to grab her cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Did we wake you?” Her mother asked after a pause.
Audra heard the surprise in the question. “It was a long trip.” She refused to believe her writing had put her to sleep. “Is everything OK?”
Ellen Prince Lane sighed. “That’s what we’re calling to find out. We thought you were going to call us when you arrived at the resort.”
“I sent you a text when I landed.” Audra scrubbed a hand across her eyes, wiping away the last remnants of fatigue.
“A text is not a phone call.” Ellen spoke with exaggerated patience. “How do we know that someone didn’t kidnap you and send that text to delay our reporting you missing?”
Audra rolled her eyes. Her mother read too many true-crime novels. Her father wouldn’t have suspected 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?”