On the Loose (6 page)

Frances touches her wide brimmed hat. She looks at Maxine, then over to me. At my shrug, Frances regards Maxine again. “Um . . . thank you. I think.”

“Yes, when I first met my husband, Mr. Simmons, God rest his soul, I was sporting a beautiful wide-brimmed hat as well. It makes us women look mysterious. Of course I was also in a totally sexy bathing suit. I was dancing at the Circus Circus casino in Vegas, and in between the matinee and evening shows, I had decided to visit the pool.” Maxine kicks her legs out. I notice they’re covered in goose bumps. “One look at these gams, and it was all over. Yup, sometimes you just have to be willing to show a little leg, you know?”

Frances nods her head slowly. “Sure. Okay.” Her eyes close and her head returns to her chair.

“I’m full of tips.” Maxine crosses her arms as a breeze ripples the water. “Yes, indeed, I’m a wealth of information on many topics. Dancing . . . fashion . . . dating.”

“Dentures.”

Maxine gives me the stink eye. “As I was saying, the social graces have always come to me so naturally. But you know, the Lord does not bless everyone with such skills.” She clutches her chest. “My heart breaks for you young people today. So many girls these days rely on their outer beauty instead of their inner poise.”

Frances sits up so fast her chair buckles, her legs shooting to either side. “Katie Parker! You told her!”

I open my mouth to defend myself, but Maxine beats me to it. “My dear, your secret is safe with me. Katie simply took your little situation to heart and knew to go to the ultimate authority for help.
Moi
.”

“If you tell anyone, Maxine, I will make sure the story of you and Sam is front page news. I’ll post it on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. . . the billboard downtown!” Frances sputters.

“
Tsk, tsk, tsk
. There’s no need for the theatrics. I’m here to help.”

My friend’s eyes narrow. “And in return?”

Maxine waves a careless hand. “Oh. Nothing in return. Well, I guess I would like you and your teenybopper friends to stay out of my church pew, but I don’t think that will be a problem,
hmmm
?”

Steam is practically coming out of Frances’s ears.

Maxine rubs her hands together. “I do so enjoy a good challenge. This will be fun. The three of us working together . . . to make you datable.”

See, I should be feeling badly. Maybe I shouldn’t have told Maxine about Frances and Nash, but I know Maxine. She’s all talk. All bluff. She’s like one of those cats that chase mice to play with, not to swallow whole. While Maxine will enjoy teasing Frances, she would never actually tell anyone about her long-standing crush on Nash Griffin. And we do need some help.

“I don’t need your assistance.” Frances lifts her chin regally. “But thank you.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to . . . oh!”

“What?” I ask, watching Maxine jump.

“The fish. They’re biting my tushie.” She jumps again.

Frances giggles with satisfaction, but I just roll my eyes. “Well, get out of the water.”

Maxine settles back into her float. “I didn’t say I minded it.”

The roar of a boat motor drowns out any further comments.

James stands at the wheel of a white and aqua striped boat, his hat perched backwards on his head. He cuts the motor and calls out to us. “Ready to hit the waves, ladies?”

“Where’d you get that thing?” I yell back.

“Found it at the dock. Surely no one will miss it.” He laughs at his little joke. “It’s a renter, so come on. Time’s a-wasting. Go get Millie, and let’s take a ride.”

Fifteen minutes later Millie, Maxine, Frances, Rocky, and I are all suited up in our life jackets, ready to take to the open water.

I tighten the clasp on my vest. “Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”

James shrugs. “Don’t you think preachers and speed boats mix?”

Well, now that you mention it, no.

“This summer we’ll come back out and ski. Who’s gonna be ready for that? How about you, Maxine?” James puts the boat into motion and pretty soon it feels like we’re flying.

“Nope. I am officially retired from skiing. After last summer’s debacle at the senior citizen’s lake day, I’m through with water sports.” She leans in close to my ear, her voice raised over the noise. “Let’s just say my top blew off, and I accidentally showed everyone how the Lord has greatly blessed me.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon in the boat. We eat the lunch Millie packed and take in the scenery. Maxine, Frances, and I see who can get the most waves from fishermen.

“How many did you get?” Frances asks, her black hair blowing in her face. “I got ten.”

I hold up eight fingers.

“Ha! Amateurs. I got fifteen.”

I push my hair back. “Well, I guess if we had blown kisses to every boat we’d passed, we’d have gotten fifteen too.”

The sun begins to drop in the sky, and James steers us back to the marina. I rest my head on the seat and watch Millie behind the black of my sunglasses. Her curly blonde hair is damp, and she sits next to Captain James. Every once in a while she looks over at each of us and gives a big smile, as if to say, “I’m so glad you’re here with me today.” That’s Millie. She could possibly have a major disease, and she still looks all peaceful and happy. Meanwhile, I’m completely in knots. I want to get home so we can get her test results. How can she stand to be out here? Isn’t she desperate to know? How do you just leave home for days at a time when you’re waiting to find out if you have cancer?

If Millie has cancer, I wonder if she’ll call her daughter. James and Millie have a twenty-five-year-old daughter who is MIA. She’s a long story, one I know little about, but apparently their only child Amy is a little cuckoo. At least that’s my primary theory. Millie sends her money and stuff, but Amy just continues to ignore her parents. Kind of weird. Amy’s an actress, so my other theory involves Tom Cruise, but I’m still working out the details of that one.

After docking the boat, we walk back to the campsite. I’m exhausted, but in a good way. My skin tingles with a little too much wind and sun (despite the fact Millie was coming at me every hour with the sunscreen), and my limbs feel heavy from all the motion. Maybe sleeping on the hard ground won’t be so difficult after all.

“Why don’t you girls hit the showers up the hill while James and I get the steaks on for dinner.”

“I’ll go with them,” Maxine says in a rush, pushing through us to get to her tent.

Frances and I grab our shower gear and begin our walk.

Maxine catches up to us, her sandals flip-flopping all the way. “Nothing like an invigorating shower to revive us, eh, girls?”

I look over my shoulder. “You just wanted to get out of potato peeling duty.”

Maxine pops her bubble gum. “Yeah, that too.”

We make it to the bottom of the hill and are ready to start our upward trek, when a familiar voice shouts a hello.

“Hey, girls!” The object of Frances’s crush, with a towel wrapped around his neck, strolls our way.

“Hi, Nash.” I’m the only one who offers a greeting. Maxine stops to openly stare at him, while Frances makes like a statue, frozen and totally blank.

“If you’re headed for the showers, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.” He runs a hand through his wet, sandy-blond hair.

I can almost feel Frances melting.

“The hot water was pretty much nonexistent when I was in there, so be prepared.”

“I like water.” This from Frances.

Maxine does a double take at my befuddled friend. Then shoots her blue eyes at me.

I shrug as if to say,
I know. I think she’s possessed by aliens too.

Nash only laughs. “Yeah, water is pretty . . . um, cool. Kind of necessary for a shower, I guess.” Silence follows his comment—because really, how do you continue this line of conversation? So Nash politely tells us good-bye, and on down the hill he goes.

Frances pivots to watch his every step away from her.

“I did it again,” she says.

“Girl, did you hit your head or something before we came?” Maxine shifts her bag on her shoulder and continues walking. “Because that was just pitiful to watch.”

Frances falls in behind us, her feet stomping on the pavement. “I know, all right? I don’t think you need to point out the obvious. I get tongue-tied when he’s around. My brain just malfunctions.”

“Don’t worry, Frances. We’ll help you. We’ll have Nash Griffin writing you love sonnets yet.” I offer an encouraging smile.

“I don’t know that I want love sonnets.”

“Okay, sharing his lunchtime tater tots.” Now that’s something a girl can appreciate.

Later in the
evening, after the steaks have been devoured and the dishes cleared away, Frances and I zip ourselves into our tent for the night. Dread settles in my stomach as I look at my sleeping bag. If I put myself in that, it’s like I’m a human hotdog, all nicely wrapped up for some grizzly bear’s convenience.

I toss and turn for what seems like hours. Despite the padding beneath me, rocks nudge me in the most inconvenient places. On the other side of the tent, Frances sleeps soundly, her mouth slightly open.

Forget it. I can’t sleep.

Grabbing my flip-flops and a flashlight, I unzip the tent flap and ease myself out. The campfire is still going strong, and even though it’s after one a.m., Maxine, Millie, and James lounge in chairs, still sipping coffee.

“Did we wake you?” Millie wraps her jacket tighter around her.

I slump into a chair. “No. I can’t sleep.”

“Look, Katie, Bigfoot’s only been spotted a few times around here, so there’s really nothing to be afraid of. Well, not too much.” Maxine hides her wicked grin behind her coffee mug.

“So what were you guys talking about?”

Millie smiles wistfully. “We were just remembering some old camping trips. Amy used to love to come out here.”

I nod my head, pretending to be interested. Great. Kooky daughter can handle the outdoor life, but I can’t.

“Millie, do you remember the time your father took us to Yellowstone National—”

Maxine’s story stops short as a bird calls loudly into the night.
Hooooo! Hoooo-eeee-ewwww!

She clears her throat and continues. “. . . The time your father took us to Yellowstone, and I forgot everyone’s clothes but mine, and—”

Again the loud warble of a bird.
Hooooo! Hoooo-eeee-ewwww!

James looks behind him. “That is some birdcall. He must be really close.” He turns his attention back to the storyteller. “You were saying . . .”

Maxine’s beady eyes search the dark campground. “. . . Um . . . I was saying I had forgotten all of . . .
hootie, hootie, hoo-hoo
! . . . our clothes, and your father was so . . .” Her eyes widen in a panic.

“Mother, did you just answer that bird?”

Maxine gasps. “Um . . . no, no, I . . . um . . . Boy, Millie, you gotta cut me off from that
Animal Planet,
eh? No more Discovery Channel for me! Next thing you know I’ll be charming snakes.” She laughs nervously and gets to her feet. “I think I need to take a walk to the ladies room.” Maxine holds up her mug. “I drank way too much coffee. Hard on the bladder.”

“Hold it right there.” Millie ejects from her seat and blocks Maxine’s path. “Do it again.”

Maxine swallows. “Do what again, sweetie pie, sugar bunch?”

Millie lifts her chin. “Call that bird.”

“Millie, it was an accident. It’s like a bird took over my body or something. You know nature does weird things to—”

“Call the bird, Mom.”

Maxine nods, cups her mouth and whispers. “
Ca-caw! Tweet-tweet! Chirp-chirp!
”

She makes a show of listening for the bird then shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I guess he’s gone, so I’ll just be—”

“
Hootie, hootie, hoo-hoo
!” James’s voice echoes in the camp.

Hooooo! Hoooo-eeee-ewwww!
comes the reply.

“Do it again, James.” Millie shoots her mother an exasperated look, then takes off in the direction of the bird.

“
Hootie, hootie, hoo-hoo
!”

Hooooo! Hoooo-eeee-ewwww

Millie tears into some shrubbery, James and Maxine both at her heels. I am content to sit back in my chair, awaiting the fun that is sure to unfold.

“Who’s there? I see you. Get out here.” Then a squeal. “Sam Dayberry! What in the world are you doing skulking about in the bushes?”

I take a sip of Millie’s coffee and grin. Nope, I’m definitely not ready for bed.

T
his morning I’ve
got bags under my eyes. Bags so big a Hollywood socialite could easily carry a small dog in them.

As if Mondays don’t reek anyway, on this particular morning I am suffering from extreme sleep deprivation. Again. Something’s gotta give. Last night I had a dream I pushed a snoring Maxine out my second-story window.

To make matters worse, I’m listening to Millie grill her mother about Sam Dayberry for the zillionth time.

“But Mom, I still don’t understand how you could hide this from me.”