A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

Maybe she could use it as a bargaining tool. “I’ll tell you everything about my dream, Chief Deputy Cooper. Right after you tell me what you’re hiding.”

He nodded. “Breakfast in absolute silence, it is.”

Damn. So close.

She brought out her phone to check up on her little pasta primavera, which was a nickname Auri hated. Not that her loathing stopped Sun from using it. Auri would need something to tell her therapist.

After texting the same word seven times and discovering autocorrect changed it to something different each time only after she hit SEND—seriously, how does one go from pumpernickel to colonoscopy—and having her daughter type back things like, Mom, stop, and This is getting painful, and, Mom, really, stop, Sun gave up and called her.

“What the heck, Mom?” she said.

“Sorry. Freaking autocorrect.”

“It’s not autocorrect when you can’t spell.”

“Pumpernickel is a hard word. Now knock-knock.”

“I already know this one.”

“Not this one. It’s new. And you’re on speakerphone. We have to entertain Quincy.”

“Hi, Quincy!” she shouted.

“Speaker. Phone. You don’t have to yell.”

“Sorry!” she yelled to spite her.

“Hey, bean sprout,” he said with a chuckle.

Sun only bristled a little that he got a hi and she got a what the heck. “Knock-knock.”

Auri exhaled. It was a long, drawn-out ode to every tragedy Shakespeare ever wrote. “Who’s there?”

“Pumpernickel.”

“Pumpernickel who?”

“If I had a pumpernickel for every time I found a boy in your room—”

“Oh, my God, Mom! Did you tell Quincy?”

“Tell me what?” Quincy asked, the smirk on his face manifesting in his voice.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Bean Sprout Vicram,” he teased, “did you have a boy in your room?”

“No.”

Sun made a strangling sound, trying to suppress a giggle. “I’m going to assume your grandparents made sure Cruz left you with your virtue intact.”

“Mother.”

Sun’s brows shot up at the formality their relationship had sunk to, and she had a full-on scuffle with the giggle fighting tooth and nail to escape. The kid had a boy in her room. She had to know there would be consequences.

“My virtue is right where you left it.”

“In the laundry room?”

“Are you guys there yet?” she asked, wisely changing the subject.

“Just about. We’re going to grab some breakfast, then hit the prison. I can get some numbers in case you want to invite any more boys into your room once they get paroled.”

“Mother,” she said again. “I’m going to start recording our conversations so I’ll have something to present to the judge during my emaciation hearing.”

When Quincy tossed her a questioning look, she covered the phone and whispered, “Emancipation.”

“Ah.”

“She’s been threatening it for years, but I figure as long as she can’t pronounce it, no judge in the state will know what she’s asking for.”

He nodded and tapped his temple.

“Stellar idea, honey,” she said into the phone.

“Did you find him?” Auri asked, doing a one-eighty.

Because Auri’s tone held a sadness that hadn’t been there a moment earlier, Sun knew exactly who she was talking about. “Not yet, sweetheart. I don’t think Levi will be found until Levi wants to be found.”

“What if he’s really hurt? He could be lying dead somewhere.”

Sun had worried about that very thing. “We’ll find him, bug. Maybe you should ask Jimmy if they’ve heard anything.” A long shot since she’d just spoken to Jimmy, but Levi could’ve gone home last night.

“Okay. I’ll text him now.”

“Let me know. Are you helping your grandparents with the attic?”

“About to. Grandma made pancakes and Sybil is coming over.”

“Awesome. You guys have fun. And keep me updated.”

“Be careful, Mom. You know—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “I know what they do to cops in jail. You tell me in minute detail every time I threaten to kill your grandparents. Love your face.”

“Love yours, too. Bye, Quincy!”

“Bye, sprout.” He chuckled softly when Sun hung up. “Emaciation? That’s hilarious.”

“Which is why I never correct her when she mispronounces anything. One, it’s adorable. And, two, my need to be entertained supersedes her need to cinch a full ride to Harvard.”

“I don’t know, Sunbeam. I think the kid has a shot at the Ivies.”

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“If she doesn’t get pregnant first.”

Sun slammed her lids shut. “That child’s virtue had better be right where I left it when I get back.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, his laugh a little too jovial as he turned into the parking lot of the Florence Café.

Breakfast turned out to be a pancake lover’s dream. Unfortunately, Sun had decided to cut back on the carbs, so she had bacon and eggs while living vicariously through her BFF, trying not to drool as he cut into a huge stack of fluffy goodness and refused to answer any of her questions on the subject of whatever he was hiding from her. It didn’t happen often, so the curiosity was eating her alive.