Overdrive by Chloe Cole

hand and cleared her throat before continuing. “And now here we are, you and I. I have spent my whole adult life trying to escape my beginnings. It’s a part of me, the need to make sure my children don’t go and undo all the hard work me and my mama did to get them out. To give them some legitimacy. But it’s times like these I feel a bit like a general without a war. You know what I mean by that, darlin’?”
    “I think I do, yes, ma’am.”
    “Because nowadays, nobody cares much about legitimacy or about what’s proper. Sure, the Montclaires do, and the Samuels, but aside from this little vacuum of a world I live in, does anyone really know or care?” She shrugged helplessly, suddenly looking every one of her sixty years. “Not one lick.”
    A surge of sympathy rolled through Frankie, and she reached out to give the other woman’s hand a squeeze. Things were never as black and white as they seemed.
    “Mackenzie has always suffered my silliness with a sort of good-natured acceptance. He’d get irritated, but he let me have my way if it didn’t tax him overmuch. But yesterday?” She shook her head grimly. “Yesterday I pushed him too far. Lord, I never saw him so furious. Gave me a piece of his mind, he did. Told me I had better take my snobby ass—he sure did cuss at me—over to your house and apologize for my behavior.” She lifted a hand to her elegant, champagne-blonde coiffure and sighed. “I didn’t much care for any of that and told him so. But he was right, and I told him that too. Then he told me he loves you.”
    Frankie slammed her eyes closed as white lights exploded behind her lids. She sucked in a breath, then another, but she couldn’t seem to get enough air.
    “Put your head between your knees, darlin’, and breathe through your nose.” Mimi’s voice sounded very far away, as if they were playing telephone with two cans and a length of string. “Get yourself together, young lady. Last thing I need is to tell my son I went and killed you. He’s likely to think I did it on purpose for spite. Come on now, slow breaths.”
    A cool hand rubbed circles on her back as she did Mimi’s bidding. After a minute, her heartbeat started to slow and her lungs began to cooperate.
    “W-we only went on one date,” she wheezed.
    “Must have been a doozy. Or maybe he loved you before that. When I look at you, I surely do see a bit of this girl in there.” She tipped her head toward the photo of herself as a child. “I have neither the backbone nor the inclination to resurrect her, but I think I could get used to having someone with a little fire around in small doses. Not that I’d ever admit it outside these walls. Think on it long and hard because this whole hippy-dippy nonsense won’t happen again. I love my life and I have no intention of changing it for anyone. When I walk out this door, good old Mary-Alice is dead and gone again. If you become part of the family, I’ll butt in where I’m not welcome, browbeat you into fundraising events and even try to dictate your wardrobe. I’ll ride you about using the proper fork at a restaurant and I’ll not let my grandchildren run around like heathens. In public, at least,” she added with a wink. “As long as you understand that, and you’re good to my son, you and I will do fine.” She pushed the chair back and stood. “Now be a dear and fetch my coat.”
    Frankie’s thoughts were racing as fast as her heart. It took a raised brow and pointed stare to kick her into gear. She made her way down the hall to the closet and retrieved the coat. Mimi had followed her and stood, arms outstretched, as Frankie held it open for her to step into.
    “I appreciate your hospitality. Although I never did get that cup of tea,” she said with a tsk as she let herself out, pausing on the doorstep. She didn’t turn around and her voice was hushed, but Frankie heard her loud and clear. “I do apologize for my behavior the other day. It