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were signs from him.
    The thunder broke overhead, destroying her reverie.
    With a sigh, Mackenzie shifted gears and drove away.
    *   *   *
    The semi-truck barreled down the outside lane and passed the Taurus, spewing dirty rainwater over the hood and windshield. Mackenzie steadied the steering wheel as the car trembled in the wake of the big rig. Nervously licking her lips, she tried to concentrate on the heavy traffic flowing along the interstate.
    Estelle’s voice was buried under the sound of another long-haul rig passing, but then flowed out of the Bluetooth headset clear as day. “… and make sure that you don’t stop at truck stops. Those are dangerous places. Truck drivers are hard up for women. You don’t need to be accosted. If you get too tired, do not pull over at a rest stop. Degenerates, homosexuals, and serial killers hang out there. Don’t let your tank go below half-full.…”
    Mackenzie inhaled and then gradually let the breath slip through her lips in an attempt to remain calm. Estelle was in one of her tizzies. Mackenzie was not going to be able to get a word in for a few more minutes.
    Interstate 20 was packed with large semi-trailer trucks heading toward Dallas–Fort Worth and Mackenzie’s nerves were getting the best of her. Already several trucks and cars had honked to urge her to go faster. She was hesitant to match the speed of the traffic, not sure her hands could keep her old car steady on the slick road.
    â€œMom,” Mackenzie said, trying to wedge her way into the conversation.
    It was difficult to claw out of the pit of despair that had trapped Mackenzie for so long and Estelle’s admonishments were only feeding into her apprehension about the storm, leaving Joshua, and the long trip to Kerrville. The anxiety attack at the cemetery still had a fierce grip on her thoughts. The grief counselor had warned of setbacks, but she wanted to be stronger than she felt. Listening to her mother carry on with yet another paranoid lecture was not helping. It was difficult to function when the world felt full of unseen dangers. The kind of dangers that killed your baby in your belly …
    â€œâ€¦ and if you have to stay at a hotel, if the proprietor is an Arab, you leave. They’re all sleeper cell terrorists.…”
    â€œMom, I don’t think that all Arabs are terrorists,” she said over her mother.
    Estelle ignored her and kept talking.
    Mackenzie switched lanes to let a construction truck pass. The rain was beginning to fall again and the car tires slid slightly. Her knuckles were white from strain. The world around her seemed increasingly dangerous and threatening.
    â€œâ€¦ and just you remember to not go over the speed limit. Those highway patrolmen are all rapists.…”
    â€œMom, enough! Stop it! Okay?”
    The exit sign to US-79 loomed on the side of the road and Mackenzie impulsively switched on her turn signal. The Taurus glided off the busy interstate onto the off-ramp.
    â€œI’m just trying to help you, Mackenzie. I love you.” Hurt filled Estelle’s voice.
    Mackenzie sighed, feeling the old familiar guilt. “I know, Mom. I just can’t deal with any more stress today, okay? I’m getting off the interstate and taking the back roads.”
    â€œBut there are rednecks and—”
    â€œMom, I need peace of mind! The traffic and weather is just a little more than I can cope with right now. You do remember I signed the divorce papers and that I’m leaving Joshua behind, right?”
    â€œI lost Joshua, too! I never even got to hold him! If only you had—”
    â€œMom!”
    â€œYou’re barely twenty-six and already divorced, jobless, and homeless! How can I not worry about you? I’m your mother!” There was no way Estelle was going to let her daughter win this battle.
    Relenting out of habit, Mackenzie said, “I know. I’m sorry.