As if he sensed I was about to lose it, he didn’t offer me any further kindnesses.

He left.

I concentrated on finding my insurance agent’s number, calling her, reporting the incident and learning that they’d have to come and look at my car.

I then texted Mag that I needed the deets.

Within a minute, he’d texted me the deets.

It was already at a body shop, waiting for the go-ahead to be fixed.

Not surprising with these good, kindhearted people.

I sat with the book.

Jet took a break and sat with me.

Indy took a break and sat with me.

Tex boomed at me.

Duke studied me like he was trying to figure me out (so I avoided looking at Duke).

Then Roxie showed with two men she introduced as Tod and Stevie, who both wore wedding bands and made it clear in sweet ways that they belonged to each other.

Roxie also had a number of bags, and after she made the introductions and Jet and Indy had wandered over, she said apropos of nothing, “Shut up. I won’t hear it.”

She then yanked out three pairs of faded jeans (two distressed, all three cool), five tees (and they were fab) and two cardigans (slouchy and overlarge, in great colors).

And after all of this littered the seating area I was in, she dumped two big Soma bags at my feet and stated, “Undies, bras and nightwear. And the other stuff is no big deal since we got it all at a vintage store, so it cost practically nothing.”

It was the “practically” part of that that bothered me.

Then Tod dumped a big Sephora bag at my feet and said, “Cleanser, toner, moisturizer and some cosmetics. And shut up, I won’t hear it either.”

“But I don’t even know you,” I noted.

“Girl, we got a communal slush fund for shit like this,” he returned.

I’d been reading so I did not find this surprising.

Still.

“I—” I started.

“Shut up,” Tod said.

“But I—”

“Shut up,” Tod and Roxie said in unison.

“But—”

“Shut up!” Tod, Stevie, Roxie, Indy and Jet all said once.

I shut up.

Air kisses were then exchanged, even with me, and Tod, Stevie and Roxie took off, Jet going with them to pick up her boys (she had three sons) and get home to make dinner for her family, Indy going to pick up her kids (she had a girl and boy) before she met up with Lee and they went to her in-laws for dinner.

This was when I got call number two from Mag.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“The Rock Chicks are bossy,” I informed him.

“Good bossy, or bad bossy?” he asked.

“Is there a good bossy?” I asked in return.

“Yes,” he answered.

Hmm.

“I have a bunch of new stuff and I don’t think they’re going to let me pay them back for any of it,” I shared.

“Then it’s the good bossy,” he stated. “See you around six.”

He hung up before I could say another word.

I folded all my new stuff up and returned it to the bags.

Then I went back to reading.

It happened at close to six.

With perfectly imperfect timing, it happened just when the bell over the door rang and I looked up from reading about when Indy performed with Tod at a drag show and then she, Ally and Tex got into a car chase after shots were fired at the gay bar.

I looked up to see Mag walking in, eyes on me, a smile on his handsome face.

Because of this…

Because I’d spent the day with nice people who looked after me, got me lunch, bought me stuff I needed, handed me orgasmic coffees, instead of what I might have been doing if Lottie and Mag had not intervened in my life: cowering in fear while sorting through the ruin of my apartment…

Because of all of this, when my phone rang and I looked down at it and saw it was my mother calling, I took the call without thinking.

I put it to my ear as Mag approached me, my eyes to him, and began, “Hey—”

“What the fuck is the matter with you!” my mother shrieked in my ear.

My blood turned to ice and Mag disappeared from sight, seeing as my mind blanked and I had no vision at all.

“Do you know how much shit Mick is in right now?” Mom asked. “Do you, Evie? Do you?”

I did not answer as my phone was slid out of my hand and I watched Mag’s long forefinger hit the button for speaker.

And Mom’s voice filled the air.

“Answer me, Evan! Your brother fears for his life because you have shit for brains!”

I stared at the phone.

Mom kept going.

“Genius my ass!” she shouted. “Dumb as a rock. Who cares how a radio works? You gotta keep a bag safe to keep your brother safe, you do everything you can to keep that bag safe!”

“Listen to me,” Mag growled, and my eyes darted up to his face.

Oh boy.

He was using that tone he’d used with Lottie that morning.

Except worse.

Way worse.

“Who’s this?” Mom demanded.

“It doesn’t matter who this is. You can call this number again when you get the go-ahead from Evan to call this number. And if you don’t ever get that go-ahead, you never call this number.”

“Fuck you, let me talk to my daughter.”

Mag’s gaze shot to me.

Yep, I said with my eyes. That’s my mom.

“This is her mother?” Mag asked to confirm.

“I said, let me talk to my daughter,” she ordered.

“Toothpaste,” Mag muttered, staring at me.

Damn.

Somehow, I’d given it all away over a tube of toothpaste.

“Evan had her apartment tossed last night. There’s little that can be salvaged. She lost almost everything,” Mag told Mom.

“Well, my son might lose his life!” Mom snapped.

“It’s clear it’d be smooth sailing for you if you were given Sophie’s choice,” Mag remarked.

“What?” Mom asked.

“We’re done,” Mag stated.

Then he made that so by disconnecting and went on to move his finger on my screen to do other things.

He then extended my phone to me and said, “She’s blocked. She’s your mom, that’s not my call. I’m just askin’ you to give yourself a break from that at least until we know if you’ve got more than a couple pairs of vintage jeans to your name.”

I pressed my lips together and ignored the fact that Tex and Duke had both sidled close during that spectacle.

“Did she know before I told her what happened to your place?” Mag asked.

I shook my head.

“You didn’t call her?”

I shook my head.

“Your father?”

I shook my head.

He rolled his head around on his shoulders as he drew breath into his nose.

“Mag—”

“Baby,” he whispered, “I can’t. I can’t right now. Mac called. Said they dropped some of your stuff at my pad. I wanna get you home. I wanna get you fed. I wanna get you settled. I do not want to listen to you make excuses for your mother.”

I pressed my lips together again.

“You know that shit’s not right, yeah?” he asked.