Excerpt from Real Women Sing the Blues

I rolled out of bed, still naked, and searched the room for a hint of Jon’s whereabouts. Perhaps he’d gone out to bring back breakfast. But this was L.A. and not New York and nobody really did that here.

A pit of disappointment lodged in my belly. The only evidence that he’d ever been in this room—his room—was a note on the desk next to the phone that said, “Last night was terrific, but business with the vineyard calls me to Hawaii. See ya ’round, kid.”

“A vineyard in Hawaii?” I tried to wrap my head around so many things at once. I fell back into bed and propped myself up against the pillows. I began ticking off on my fingers the mind-boggling events of the past few days.

(1) My mother appears out of nowhere and announces that my father is not my father.

(2) I leave my apartment and job and everything I know about my life in New York.

(3) I reunite with Jon.

(4) My mother shows up.

(5) Right behind my mother, this Monterey Jack, this man my mother claims is my father, appears.

(6) I have wild sex with Jon.

(7) Jon disappears, leaving a note, claiming to own a vineyard in Hawaii, of all places.

What the hell should I do now? The old Robin would have limped off, nursing her wounds when it came to her personal life, writing it all off as a failure. But the new Robin would take her old business aggressive self and use it in her personal life. Therefore, there was only one choice: chase Moondoggie all the way to Hawaii.

I showered, got dressed, and then made a few phone calls, culminating in a First Class ticket to Hawaii and a hotel reservation at the Halekulani. Then I went down to 25 Degrees to get some breakfast before the hotel limo shuttled me to LAX. Thank God I still had business connections and could make arrangements at such late notice. But my mother, Millie, had taught me everything I knew about getting things done. Everything in business, that is. It was time to put those Millie lessons into practice in my personal life and chase after the man I wanted.

Okay, so maybe my mother had let this Monterey Jack get away—I still didn’t know the exact details there. Perhaps, my mother had wanted to let him get away. But, apparently, something had changed because she was here and he was here with her.

Scanning the menu, my heart stopped when I noticed the chorizo egg quesadilla—the Latin breakfast brought back last night’s memories of my Latin lover—the same one who had fled this morning with nothing but that note “Last night was terrific, but business calls me to Hawaii” replaying in my mind. And then there was something else. Oh yea, something about “See ya ’round, kid” just like he used to say to me back in high school.

“I’m surprised to see you having breakfast here, Robin. I would have expected breakfast in bed with your Latin lover.”

I turned my head. My mother was dressed in a pair of white slacks and blue jacket, with red and white polka dot blouse tucked inside the slacks. A pair of red and white Spectator pumps completed her outfit, confusing me as to whether she was conducting business or pleasure this morning.

“I could say the same for you, Millie.” My mother preferred I call her by her first name in public, and I happily complied. There were times when I didn’t want to admit that Millie was my mother.

Millie gave her order to the waiter, a “Bloody Mary with Grey Goose vodka and a soft boiled egg” and said, “So, where is he this morning, Robin?”

“Monterey Jack or Jon?”

“I know where Jack is, but do you know where Jon is?”

“Hawaii. He had business in Hawaii.”

“Oh, Hawaii is it? Wonder what her name is this time? You didn’t buy that, did you? Because if you did, I’m embarrassed to think we’re even slightly-related.” Millie turned around, peeking to see who might over hear her and say, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Certainly, no daughter of mine.”

“Like mother, like daughter, I would say. Cuz I don’t see Monterey Jack here and if he had been, surely the two of you would be having, now what do you say, oh yes, breakfast in bed.”

Millie laughed, shook her head, sipped the Bloody Mary she’d ordered and said, “On second thought, isn’t Jack a form of Jon? Maybe we and our men are more alike than I’d thought.”

I sipped my coffee, “Our men?”

Millie ignored my question and asked one of her own, “Where are you headed now, dear daughter?” I knew I was in trouble now when she called me that.

I attempted to dive into my breakfast with the enthusiasm of the hungry, but after two bites, I realized I wasn’t hungry after all.

“Mother, I’m going to Hawaii,” I glanced at my cell phone and noted the time, “and my limo will take me to LAX in about twenty minutes, so I’ve got to run.”

I signed the bill, kissed my mother on both cheeks, and walked away, waving off any attempts at stopping me or going with me. The last thing I needed was for my mother to chase after my while I was chasing Moondoggie.

Excerpt from Real Women Sing the Blues – available FREE on amazon.com Oct. 22-24: