Page 142 of The Me I Left Behind

“Weird, like, what?”

“Like, you know, sex toys.”

“Caroline Oliver!” Maggie sat up straight and glared. “What the hell?” She noticed the cab driver looking at them in the rearview mirror.

“Now you’re awake.” Carol smiled.

“Good gracious.” She had not thought of finding anything like that at Max’s condo, but what if they did? She was going to have to be mindful of where Carol was looking.

Maggie had decided the day Max died, thinking about Lilly and her child, that she had to go to Australia. She had questions, and not that she expected to get all the answers, she wondered if Lilly could fill in the blanks.

But it was the discussion about the trust in Jonathon Murray’s office a couple of weeks later that confirmed her need to go. Someone had to deal with his condo and the business in Brisbane. She figured she and Carol could make quick work of packing up his shit and shipping it home.

Fortunately, they already had their passports, and she’d applied for tourist visas for Carol and herself the day after Max died. Those arrived within a couple of weeks. Max’s death, and dealing with his estate, might have triggered a speedy approval, but she couldn’t be sure. Cashing in on the two round-trip airfares Max had given Carol for her graduation present made the trip that much sweeter.

Her last dig at Max—hit him where it hurts. In his pockets.

“We’re here,” the cabbie said.

They pulled into the half-circle drive thru in front of the hotel. She paid the fare, and she and Carol gathered their things and exited the cab. A bellman approached at once, securing their luggage on a cart, and leading them into the hotel and the arrival desk.

He stood back. Maggie handed him some bills.

“If you need anything, please call down to the concierge,” he said.

Nodding, Maggie turned and faced the desk clerk.

“Name please?”

“Oliver.”

She typed in some things. “Party of two, staying for five days.”

“Yes.”

“May I use the card on file?”

“Yes, please.”That felt empowering.She’d made sure she had a card in her name before they’d left. While her credit was wonky at best, she was slowly building it. The cash in Max’s account, even though it was still in probate, helped convince thebank that she was credible. Maggie had to smile. Ms. Sandra Martindale, the bank manager, had been extremely helpful.

“Your room keys.” The desk clerk handed them over. “We have twenty-four-hour room service, and our restaurant opens at six-thirty. There is a buffet.”

“Thanks so much. Now, where’s the coffee?”

The desk clerk leaned closer. “Just FYI, avoid the caffeine for a while if you can, drink lots of water, get a good meal, then sleep. Hopefully, the jet lag will be gone by tomorrow morning.”

Maggie nodded and looked at Carol. “That sounds like a plan. What do you think?”

“Breakfast buffet sounds good.”

“I’m thinking room service.”

Carol eased out a slow grin. “In our jammies?”

“How else?”

The walkto the condo the next day took only ten minutes. The weather was chilly, the sun bright overhead though, and the breeze was stiff.

“Goodness Mom,” Carol said. “I’m freezing! I didn’t expect this.”