I get specific about my employment because out of the corner of my eye, I spot a copy of the most recent Forbes on the top of a stack of magazines. Though I’m sure the subscription belongs to Kurt, should anyone happen to flip it open to the table of contents, they’ll see the shout-out Forbes gave TIF. Debbie was always vocal with her disdain toward people who migrated to LA for a “career in showbiz.” Maybe knowing her former daughter-in-law now has a legit job at the latest and greatest “Company to Watch” will give me a bit of a long-overdue edge.

“MY SON,” she says, using her baritone voice, “who I thought was peacefully resting in Pala this whole time, has been—I don’t know—rolling around in your trunk? Tossed into your purse? I mean, where are you even keeping him?”

So much for the edge.

“In my apartment,” I quick-fire back.

“With that freak roommate of yours? She’s probably going to turn his ashes into a circus exhibit when you’re not looking.”

I try not to linger on that hurtful remark. I may not hang with Casey all the time (or really at all before the urn came back, to be precise), but she definitely doesn’t deserve to be the target of Debbie Austin’s rage right now.

“He was on my nightstand all night, Debbie. He’s been right next to me this whole time until I went to work.” I leave out the part where he stayed at home while Casey dragged me to the bar Saturday night.

“I don’t care if you kept him in your bank vault. Anywhere besides Pala, where I thought he was, where I put him on purpose, is unacceptable for any length of time. For one minute, Charlotte, try to think about me in this situation. Imagine not knowing where the ashes of your only child are. It’s a little unsettling, isn’t it?”

I don’t appreciate the accusations she’s throwing at me, her news source on all this. If she was so concerned, she should have set up a Google alert for the Pala Mausoleum and she would have been the first to know. I’ve done so since Decker’s return and I’ve already gotten news hits. In fact, there’s even a farmers’ market there later this week and proceeds will go to fire damage relief efforts. So there.

“Again, I’m sorry, Debbie. But he’s safe and the urn is obviously fine, so please try to calm down.”

“Calm down? I’m glad that he’s managed to make it this far, Charlotte. Really, I am. But I think it’s pretty clear that he should stay here with his mother and father.”

I know I mentioned Debbie is an irritatingly composed person, which she is. Until she isn’t. This quick-to-boil demeanor has always thrown me for a loop. She can make any situation unnecessarily tense and difficult, skewing my ability to think clearly. She got like this in the hospital, too, which is how he wound up in Pala in the first place. I can’t let her take control again.