Page 68 of Lost Trust

“Wyoming? Wyoming! You do know it gets colder than a witch’s titty in Wyoming, right?”

I glance toward the guy currently carrying my dining room chairs out the door.

“I guess I’m going to find out in about four months.”

“You’re taking my grandson to Wyoming?”

“No. I’m leaving him here in Dallas. He’s cute and smart. He should be fine.” I laugh and reach for another roll of packing tape. “Where are you anyway?” I ask.

“Palm Springs.”

I stop taping the box. “Why are you in Palm Springs?”

“Oh, honey. I met this guy in Phoenix.”

Of course she did.

“He has a house right next to Elizabeth Taylor’s old place in Palm Springs, and I had to come see it.”

“Obviously,” I mutter.

“We’ve had a wonderful three weeks.”

I can hear the smile in her voice.

“But tomorrow, he wants me to go hiking in Joshua Tree with him, so I think I’m going to pack my stuff while he’s out picking up dinner and head back to Arizona.”

I close my eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“Oh, honey, trust me, he had the best three weeks of his life. He’s not going to regret a thing.”

I shake my head as I fold another piece of cardboard over a box. “O-kay.”

“Now, back to the important question. Why exactly are you moving my favorite grandson to Wyoming?”

“He’s your only grandson.”

“Well, even if I had another one, the handsome little devil would still be my favorite.”

“That’s not how it works. You can’t have a favorite.”

“I absolutely can.”

I smile because despite everything—despite the fact that my mother is currently plotting an escape from a man in Palm Springs, despite her revolving door of boyfriends and her complete inability to behave like a normal adult—I love her.

More than I can explain.

“Remember me telling you I ran into Bryce Raintree and he invited me to his wedding?” I ask.

“Oh, yes, Bryce Raintree. I’d like to save a horse and ride that cowboy. It’s a damn shame you two didn’t run into each other before he went and got engaged.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Mom.”

“What? You have eyes, don’t you?”

“Bryce is very happy. And Charli is wonderful,” I say.

“I’m sure she is.”