Her mouth falls open. “I have absolutely no idea what to even say to that.”

I lean over and tuck a strand of her sunny hair behind her ear. The stuff is always sticking up all over the place and for some reason, I love it. Anyone else would look like an electrocuted poodle but on her, the effect is charming.

“Don’t worry about it, buttercup. It’s not an insult. We’re just different, that’s all.”

She regards me from beneath lowered lashes, her gray eyes worried. Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip. “What about your dad?”

“Uh, my parents divorced when I was a kid. So what did you do before you worked for Patrick?” Talking about my deadbeat dad is not the way to get this date back on track.

“I was in school. I was in my junior year when my parents died. Even though the school gave me a leave of absence to deal with everything, I couldn’t keep my focus even after I came back. My grades suffered. I had a partial scholarship but you have to maintain a certain GPA to keep it. So now I’m trying to earn enough money to go back and retake some of the classes I failed.”

“Makes sense. Is that why you started dancing at the Black Kitty?”

Her head snapped up. “Dancing? Oh god, you mean stripping? I’m not a stripper.”

The disdain in her voice is obvious. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it but after everything I’ve witnessed over the past twenty-four hours, it strikes me as incredibly ironic that most of the girls stripping at the Black Kitty are probably farther along in their college studies than she is. Most of them are dancing to pay their way through school. Or to support their kids.

“Are you okay?” Emma asks.

Part of me says to just write this whole thing off as a bust, to grab my shit and go home. But I’m so disappointed. So damn disappointed because I thought she was different. I contemplate not answering. She doesn’t get it and people like her never do. But something inside me wants her to understand.

“Those girls you look down on are just doing what they need to survive. Half of them are in college and will probably make more money than either of us when they finish.”

I shake my head but before I can say anything else my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out. Normally I wouldn’t take a phone call in the middle of a date, even one as spectacularly bad as this one but when I see my mom’s name on the screen, I answer immediately.

“Hey, Mom. Is everything okay?”

“Hi baby. Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t find my pills. I think I remember you setting them all out for me in that nifty little pill case. The one with the days of the week on it, right?”

“Yeah, I left it right on the kitchen island so you’ll see it every morning.”

“That’s what I thought but it’s not there.”

I sit up on my knees and start placing things back in the cooler. Emma watches me and then starts packing up the items she took out.

“I’ll come find it for you, Mom.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s no need for you to drive out here just for that. I’m sure it’ll turn up. I probably just moved it while I was cleaning off the counter and now I don’t remember where I set it down. You know I do that sometimes.”

It’s been happening more and more lately. She’s forgetting things and doing things that don’t make sense. It worries me. What if she forgets she’s already taken her medicine and then takes it again? She could overdose herself without even realizing it.

“I’m in Virginia Beach anyway. I’ll be there in a minute.”

After I hang up with my mom, I turn to Emma. “My mom can’t find her medication. She does this sometimes. Misplaces things. I need to get over there. I’m sorry to bail on you.”

She follows me, her legs working double time on the sand to keep up with my long strides. “It’s no problem. I think it’s nice that you’re so devoted to your mom.”

“Well, she did whatever she had to do to keep us all together when we were growing up. We didn’t have a lot of money but she never let us down. Now it’s our turn to take care of her.”

When we reach the parking lot, I wait while she fumbles with the keys on her chain to find the right one. She opens the trunk so I can place the cooler inside.

“Sorry I have to cut things short.” Even though things weren’t going well, I still feel bad about running out on her. I’ve been hitting on her for weeks and now the first time she says yes, I ditch her after less than an hour.

“No, I understand completely. I hope your mom is okay.” Emma closes the trunk and then unlocks the front door of the car. I wait while she slides behind the wheel.

“Thanks. I’m sure she’s fine. I just want to check on her.”

She turns the key and her engine strains to turn over. It sounds like it’s pleading for help.

“Ugh, I hate this stupid car.” She tries it again and a cloud of smoke erupts from beneath the hood. Emma gets out of the car and waves her hand in front of her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ve pissed her off.”

I glance at my cell phone again. There’s no way I have time to get beneath the hood and figure out what’s wrong. But I also can’t just leave her here alone. I could take her home and come back for her car later but that would be going completely out of the way. And my mom didn’t sound good. 

“Come on.”