Rose (Shooting Stars 3)

"Yes," he said and opened the door. He was dressed and in his wheelchair. "I thought I'd come out for breakfast today. Did you have a good time last night?"

"Yes, Evan. Why wouldn't you answer when I knocked? I wanted you to meet Barry and he really did want to meet you very much."

"I wasn't in the mood for company," he said quickly and wheeled himself into the hallway. "Did you have breakfast already?"

"No."

"Good. You can tell me about your evening, if you want," he said.

"Wait."

He paused and looked at me, puzzled by my tone.

"My mother," I said.

"What about her?"

"She's not back. The car is back, but she isn't."

"Oh." He smiled and looked up as if he could see through the ceiling. "Auntie Charlotte's work. I'm sure,' he said.

"What do you mean?"

He started to wheel himself toward the dining room. I followed quickly.

"Evan? What did you mean?"

"I told you how she was always trying to fix my mother up with someone, arranging dates. Maybe she thinks she's Cupid." he said and turned sharply into the dinning room. "Good morning, Nancy Sue. I'm starving today. How about some eggs and grits?"

"Very good. Master Evan."

"Just call me Evan. Nancy Sue. I've asked you a hundred times. I'm past being a master this or that," he lectured. She looked more amused than upset and left to prepare his food.

"What are you saying, Evan?" I demanded. He shrugged.

"She went to a party where my aunt Charlotte introduced her to some fine gentlemen or gentleman, and you say she's not back. It's not rocket science. Rose. '

"My mother isn't like that," I said, shaking my head.

"My mother wasn't either," he said. "But here I am." He gazed out the window, "Here I am."

More frightened than furious. I spun on my heels and marched down the hallway and up the stairs. I went to Charlotte's closed door and knocked. I heard her groan so I knocked again.

"What is it?" she cried.

I opened the door and stepped into her bedroom. She was still in bed, the comforter drawn to her chin. With the netting over her hair and her pale face peering over the blanket at me, she looked like some sort of space creature.

"What is it? Something happen to Evan?"

"No. Where's my mother?"

"Oh," she said. She struggled to get herself into a sitting position and reached for a glass of water before responding. "She's not in her room?"

"No."

She smiled.

"She'll be back soon, I suppose," she replied. "What do you mean? What happened to her?"