Page 107 of Hell Bent

“That’s different,” Elise said.

“No,” Alix said, “I don’t think so. I lived in your house,then I lived in Grandpa and Oma’s yard until I moved in with Ned. I’ve never really been on my own. Home has to be where I am. My life has to be mine.”

Elise said, “When you were two, you started refusing to let us hold your hand.”

“I did?”

“You most certainly did. I ended up buying you one of those child harnesses with a leash, because I was so afraid you’d run ahead and fall down, or worse. When I first put it on you, you sat down on the floor and refused to go anywhere. Oma suggested we sew bells on it, and then you’d wear it, because you liked the jingle.”

“Sounds like me,” Alix said.

“I should have known then,” Elise said. “I’ve never been a slow learner.”

Alix smiled, and now, she put her arms around her mother. “Except in this,” she told her. “But maybe we’re making progress.”

A discreet clearing of Elise’s throat, and her voice sounded tight when she said, “I hope so. And I nearly forgot that I brought you your laptop, your passport, and a birthday present.”

“Oh, boy,” Alix said. “At least it can’t be a new BMW. That’s awkward, that I sold your present. I bought a really nice truck, though. A Ford F-150 V6 with a 3.5-liter engine and the Max Trailer Tow package.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” her mother said.

“It means I could tow a heavier trailer,” Alix said. “Except that I love this one.”

“I don’t see how you can love a truck,” Elise said. “Or this trailer.”

Alix smiled. “I know you don’t. I’m wired differently, I guess. I’m a cuckoo in the nest, because my favorite possessions are always the dumbest things. The red stapler I boughtthe day before classes started at Stanford, with the school logo on it, and my graphing calculator that got me through school, both of which I sure hope Ned gave back. And my trailer.”

Elise said, “You had a blankie as a baby. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” Alix said. “It was pink. It fell apart.”

“Because you took it everywhere, and I had to wash it too many times.”

“I still had a ragged little piece of it in kindergarten, though,” Alix said. “I put it in my backpack the first morning. You told me I couldn’t bring it to school, but I did anyway.”

“You said that you would leave it in the backpack,” Elise said, her smile misty now. “You said, ‘I will know it’s there. I will have the picture of it in my head.’ So I let you take it. You were loyal, that’s what I thought then. You didn’t love many people, but the ones you did love? You were fierce. You told me I was—” She stopped.

“The best mom in the world,” Alix said, her voice a little choked. “I seem to have forgotten that, sometime in the teenage years. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve talked past each other,” Elise said. “I train new associates not to do that, and there I’ve been, doing it myself. Well.” She stepped back, touched her hair, probably to ensure it was still neat, and said, “I’d better give you your birthday present, then go find a hotel.”

“You can always stay here,” Alix said. “As I’ll be at Sebastian’s, then driving straight to work.”

“Thank you,” her mother said drily, “but I’ll take my chances at the Ritz-Carlton.”

“Ha,” Alix said. “So you bought me a present?”

“I didn’t precisely buy it,” her mother said. “I brought it.”

“So not a puppy, then,” Alix said. “That was what I always asked for,” she told me, then told her mother, “Sebastian has a great dog. I’m puppy-adjacent now, anyway.”

“Well, good,” Elise said faintly, then plucked something from Alix’s sweater and held it up. “I take it this is one of the benefits.”

“Well, yes,” Alix said, “that’s a dog hair. Golden Retrievers shed. Good thing I don’t have to dress up much.”

“Right,” her mother said, and picked up her purse from the banquette. It was made of quilted leather with a chain strap, and I was willing to bet that Elise wasn’t the only princess who had one. She took a faded purple velvet pouch out of it and handed it to Alix. “Happy Birthday.”

Alix opened it. And stared. Then said, “They’re not supposed to be mine, though. I gave them back to Oma to give to you.”