Read Online What a Mother Knows by Leslie Lehr - Free Book Online

California.”
    â€œDon’t be rude,” Elyse said. “It was on sale and Nikki adored it. When I called to make sure she received it, you put her on the phone, remember? I could barely hear her over that horrible music.”
    Michelle looked back at the image. She had researched cameras for weeks before Nikki’s birthday. The lens had to be better than the one on her phone, or why bother? This one also had the timer that was so easy to set. It looked like Nikki had put the camera on the counter to shoot it, then printed it out on her old inkjet. Michelle peered at the circles beneath Nikki’s ears. She dug the disco ball earring from her pocket and matched it to the picture.
    â€œA gift from Frank,” Elyse guessed. “Those tacky souvenirs are as popular as key lime pie down there.”
    â€œSo her birthday was two weeks or three weeks before the accident? I keep forgetting the date. What happened?”
    Elyse poured her own coffee. “It was October 8. Your husband called, of course. I flew in as you came out of surgery. Then you took a turn for the worse, and there was more surgery in November, which you did not come out of so well. By December, doctors had induced the coma to avoid permanent damage from your brain swelling.” She offered the juice, then gave up. “It’s too horrible to discuss. There were so many forms to sign: liability releases and health directives and the legal conservatorship. Then five months later, you started to wake up—and I reorganized the kitchen.”
    Michelle shook the obituary at her mother. “How long after the accident did you write this? Was Nikki still here?”
    â€œI don’t remember. I found it in the drawer and used it as scratch paper during one of my visits.” Elyse sipped her coffee. “That’s the thing about memory. It has a way of being exactly what you want it to be, mais oui? ”
    Michelle wondered if her mother had planted the idea of Nikki’s hospital visit to keep her from knowing she was gone. Or was Drew right about it being wishful thinking? But there was no reason to pick a fight over it; there were more important things to do.
    Elyse noticed the prescription bottle, then poured juice for Michelle. “Now drink up and get some rest. Would you like pharmaceutical help?”
    â€œNo, would you?” Michelle scowled at her mother. “I’m not ready to write my daughter’s obituary. I’m going to the police.”
    â€œAll in good time, ma chérie . No one is going to help if you barge in wearing hospital clothes. You’ll need proper attire.”
    â€œAren’t my suits in that garment bag in my closet?”
    â€œ Bien sûr , for charity. You were a bit more, shall we say, zaftig then.”
    â€œA few extra pounds are not the same as fat, Mother. I ran three times a week.”
    Elyse rubbed her own svelte hip. “In any case, your suits won’t fit you now. And black is no good. No need to look like you’re going to a funeral. Or like you missed one.” She raised a penciled-in eyebrow.
    Michelle sipped her juice. “Point taken, mother. But I work in Hollywood—everyone wears black.”
    â€œ D’accord , but no one has gray hair.” She turned Michelle gently toward the oven until she could see her homely reflection in the glass window. “Go blond. The roots will barely show.” She tapped the small scar on Michelle’s forehead. “And you can cut your bangs to cover this scar.”
    Michelle pushed her mother’s hand away to feel the now-familiar scar from the accident. “I’ll ask Sasha, my old stylist, to come by. She can color my hair in the sink. May I borrow your phone?”
    â€œ Non , I’ve made you an appointment for later this week at a spa in Beverly Hills: facial, mani-pedi, the works.” She pressed the loose skin on Michelle’s face. “Your eyes are