“It’s all right, baby,” Mama rushes to assure. “We can plan for the weekend. Easier all around. Don’t you worry over it another second. JoJo is in town for my birthday. She can keep me company.”

JoJo is my mother’s best friend and partner in crime. I’m almost afraid when those two go off alone together. Mayhem usually ensues.

“We’ll drive up to Santa Barbara,” Mama goes on. “She’s been asking to go.”

And this is why I love her. I suppose most people love their mothers on some level. But not everyone likes their parents. I like my mother. I like talking to her, sitting in her kitchen, and letting the soothing sound of her voice slide over me with all the warm comfort of a beloved childhood blanket.

My phone’s case creaks under my grip. “Thank you, Mama. I’ll make it wonderful, I swear. But if Sam happens to show up today, please let me know. And . . . well, please don’t let her leave before I get there.”

There’s a protracted pause before my mother answers. “You’re canceling because of her, aren’t you?”

I suppose my request to keep Sam on lockdown was a bit much. Still, I play stupid. “What? No . . . of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Delilah . . . do not lie to me.”

“I swear, Mama.” I cross my fingers behind my back in a reflexive move I’ve never been able to quell. “I really do have to help out a friend.” The term friend is a joke when it comes to Macon, but I can equivocate with the best of them. “Though, as it happens, it is true that I cannot find Sam to let her know, and she . . . well, she forwarded her calls to me, so I can’t exactly hunt her down.”

She makes a sound of exasperation. “That girl will be the death of me.”

Not the words I want to hear. “Does it truly bother you when Sam gets in trouble?” Because I have to know how far to go. If only for my own peace of mind.

Mama sighs. “Of course it does. She’s my baby girl. Just as you are.”

“True. But, Mama, there might be a time when she can’t wiggle her way out of a fix.”

Say, like when Macon Saint throws her little ass in jail. If I didn’t hate Macon so much, I might find it in me to applaud him on that one.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” I continue cautiously, “if you resign yourself to that inevitability.”

I close my eyes against the surge of anger and disappointment I feel for my sister.

“I am a mother, Delilah,” Mama says in a tired voice. “I will never give up on my children. And it will always cut to the bone when either of you are hurting. You two girls are all I have left. After your daddy . . . when I lost him . . .” Her voice breaks on a weak breath.