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

hollow and your lips have thinned, but fillers can fix that.”
    Michelle scoffed. “I’m not going to a spa while my daughter is missing.”
    Elyse continued, undeterred, and reached into her purse for a silk drawstring bag. “Let’s start with these.” She pulled a strand of pearls from the bag and hooked it around Michelle’s long neck.
    Michelle rubbed her fingertips over them. “Were you planning to donate these or sell them?”
    â€œI was saving them for Nikki. They’re of little value.”
    â€œ Au contraire , Mother,” Michelle said, spying Drew in the doorway.
    He stepped inside and kissed her on the head. “I gave you those for our first anniversary,” he confirmed. “Good morning, ladies. How is everything?”
    â€œ Bon ,” Elyse said. “If you don’t count the breakfast.” She set his plate of eggs in the microwave and pressed Start.
    Drew was already eating when Tyler burst through the front door with Bella. He locked her in the backyard, then returned for a stack of pancakes.
    Drew downed the last of his black coffee at the sink. “Be quick. Security at LAX is a bitch.”
    Elyse took Drew’s empty mug. “I don’t like my grandson driving in LA traffic.”
    â€œNot much traffic on Sunday. He’ll be fine,” Drew said, rubbing his lower back. He gave her a hug and slipped the copy of Variety under his arm.
    Michelle blocked Drew’s path out of the kitchen. “Please don’t go.”
    â€œOh, honey. I’m doing this for you.” Drew kissed her cheek, then saw her tap her lips. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wreck your lipstick.”
    Michelle glanced at her mother, then clutched his denim sleeve. “We need to talk.”
    â€œI’ll call you,” he said as she walked him to the door. He pulled a petty cash envelope from his wallet and fanned it to show her the $50 and $100 bills inside.
    Michelle shoved it in her bathrobe pocket. She used to pass out per diems in the same kind of envelope during production. “Do I have to sign a receipt, too?”
    He chuckled and pulled on his jacket. “I’ll send you a debit card, but first you need a new ID to prove you exist.”
    Michelle raised her eyes to his. “What do I need to convince you I exist?”
    â€œPlease, Michelle. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Michelle said. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes to the Variety pinned beneath his arm. Then she tilted her head to see the photo of the woman on the cover. The headline screamed about a three-picture deal at Paramount. “Is that Becca? We used to make up headlines like that in film school! I can’t believe she didn’t mention this when she visited me in the hospital. She did visit me, right? I didn’t make that up?” When he nodded, she smiled. “Let’s call her. She’ll give you a job.”
    â€œI already have a job, Michelle.” He opened the door.
    â€œYou know what I mean.” She clung to him, but he peeled her off like Velcro. “At least let me call Victor—I need to thank him for the orchids.”
    â€œGet some rest,” he said, leaning down for a real kiss. She sighed into his lips. This was how she wanted it to be. She wanted to forget about yesterday, to remember the good times, the soft kisses, like this.
    â€œBe nice to your mother,” Drew said, zipping his jacket. “She talked the rabbi out of performing last rites.”
    â€œLast rites?”
    â€œWhatever they call it in Jewish.” He meant it as a joke, but she could tell by the way his eyes darted past her that it was true. He pulled her into his arms. “Promise you’ll go back to bed and rest.”
    Michelle nodded. She would promise him anything right now. She didn’t even mind the stench of tobacco imbedded in his jacket. She could live with