Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Our breath fogged the cold morning air as Doris, Alice, and I stood on the sidewalk in front of my house with our spouses and suitcases, staring down the empty street like we were waiting for a train we weren’t entirely sure was coming.
Alice looked at her diamond-encrusted watch. “It’s exactly nine o’clock. Marge said to be here at nine o’clock sharp. Where the hell is she?”
“Did she tell anyone what time our flight was at?” Doris shivered, and Axel wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze that made her smile.
I looked up and down the street for any sign of Marge, but there was nothing but the snow piled up along the edges of Wilder Lane, stubborn drifts that refused to admit winter was losing.
“She didn’t tell us anything. Just to be here right now. She was very vague… and laughing a lot last night when we talked. Which makes me incredibly nervous.”
“Knowing Marge is planning this makes me more nervous than my cancer does. She’s more likely to be the death of me.”
I chuckled despite the dark humor that made my stomach drop. I pulled my coat tighter and looked at Alice, who had designer sunglasses on even though it was thirty-two degrees and overcast.
Alejandro, standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist, laughed too, but I saw it in his eyes.
That same fear hidden in me was hidden in him as he tried to put on a brave face.
His hand kept finding the small of her back, her shoulder, her hand—not possessively, just…
there. Present. Like he needed the contact to know she was alive and still his.
He was terrified even though he hid it beautifully.
He loved her so completely it was written all over him.
Alice had spent so many years being the most stunning woman in any room, but with Alejandro, this might be the first time she was ever truly, quietly, desperately loved.
He wasn’t dazzled by her. He just loved her.
All of her. And she would need that in the coming months more than she’d ever needed anything.
Tom’s hand squeezed mine. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
He always knew what was going on in my head, and I loved him even more for it.
“I’m fine,” I said, though I wasn’t sure that was completely true.
“She said nine o’clock,” Doris pointed out. “She said have your bags packed and be ready. So, we’re ready.”
“Ready for what, though?” Alice tilted her head. “That is the question.”
“Maybe it’s a limo?” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed my own suggestion. “Like last time she had a limo for us, and she went all out on luxury.”
Tom smiled as he looked down at me. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Sylvie. I love how optimistic you are.”
I laughed and smacked him on the chest, my hand bouncing off his muscular pecs. “Shut up, Tom. Maybe she’s being nice.”
He pinched his lips and shrugged but then laughed softly through his nose.
“Roxie, come on, do you know anything?” I asked her.
Roxie, standing alone at the edge of our group, just shrugged. “I know nothing more than you do. She was working away on the computer all night and then took an Uber this morning and that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. She told me to be here too.”
“Damn it,” Alice grumbled. “Why did we let Marge handle the planning?”
“Well, she didn’t exactly give us a choice,” Doris pointed out.
“We’re here!” Rachel called, rushing down the street toward us, Emma propped on her hip and Blake in tow.
“Careful of the ice, honey!” Tom pointed to a patch in front of them.
Rachel and Blake moved around it, then arrived at us, panting.
“Thank God we made it! We didn’t want to miss saying goodbye, but Emma kept pulling off her socks.”
Emma, bundled in a snowsuit so puffy she resembled a small pink marshmallow, squealed when she saw us, reaching out with her mittened hands.
“Hi, baby,” Tom said to Rachel first, and kissed her head. Then he stole Emma from her arms. “And hi, baby, to you too.”
He kissed her several times, and she shrieked with delight as he lifted her up and down in the air, kissing her nose with each descent.
“Where’s Marge?” Blake asked, his arm around Rachel’s shoulder as he squinted, looking left and right down the street.
“That’s the question we’re all asking,” Alejandro answered.
“Do you think she got us a resort?” Doris asked suddenly. “Oh, I could really use a pool. This winter has been endless. Look at that snow.” She gestured mournfully at the drifts along my fence. “I haven’t been warm since November.”
“If Marge got us a resort, I will eat that hat.” Alice gestured toward Roxie, who wore a knitted yellow beanie with a pompom.
Roxie frowned. “Yeah, she was laughing a lot last night. I don’t think she’d be laughing over a resort. She seemed extremely pleased with herself.”
“Damn it,” Alice hissed through her teeth.
Emma reached both arms out toward me, snowsuit rustling, and I took her from Tom. She grabbed my nose immediately, which she had recently discovered was extremely funny, and I made a face that caused her to dissolve into the kind of baby giggle that rearranged your entire cardiovascular system.
“She loves her nana.” Rachel watched us with that soft expression she’d had since Emma was born—something between wonder and contentment, the look all mothers had for their children from babies until adulthood, as I still looked at her that very same way.
“The feeling is mutual,” I said into Emma’s hat.
Then we heard it.
It started as a low rumble somewhere around the corner—a big engine, the kind you felt in your chest before you heard it properly. Emma’s head swiveled toward it with the fascination of someone encountering a new sound for the first time.
The rumble grew and grew.
“Heavens to Betsy. What is that?” Doris asked.
We all looked left, then right, the sound growing louder in the crisp winter air.
When it came into view, a singular sharp gasp moved through the entire group as if we’d all inhaled the same air at the exact same time.
A massive motorhome rolled into sight, slowing down to make the turn onto Wilder Lane.
It was enormous, like a tour bus, white with a swooping silver-and-blue design along the side, taking up what felt like the entire residential street as it lumbered toward us.
The horn sounded as it approached, and it didn’t honk, instead playing a cheerful, ridiculous little melody that blasted through the neighborhood.
Nobody spoke as it rumbled to a stop in front of my house. The engine shuddered, and we all stood speechless in the silence.
The window rolled down, and Marge leaned out from the driver’s seat. A plastic Viking helmet, two curved horns jutting off either side, sat slightly crooked on her head.
She patted the side of the RV with one hand.
“Meet Bertha!”
The sidewalk erupted in laughter, shrieks, and Alice’s vocal protests. I remained frozen, mouth gaping as Tom wrapped his arms around me and Emma, his body shaking in that big, full laugh that moved my body with him as well.
“Oh, yes. YES!” he shouted. “I knew Marge would deliver!”
Finally, I found my voice. “Marge! What in the hell is that?”
“Our ride and our house for the next week!” Marge beamed from the driver’s seat. “Road trip, ladies… road trip!”
Roxie clasped her hands together and blew a kiss toward the window. “Wow! Honey, that is so neat! I wish I could come!”
Marge winked at her. “We’ll do our own trip soon, baby. Promise.”
Roxie clapped her hands and grinned.
Alice lowered her sunglasses, locking eyes with Marge. “Absolutely not. No. No way.” She shook her head wildly. “Marge. I am not getting in that.”
“Oh, come on, you ninny! Don’t be a party pooper. You’re gonna love it!” Marge flung her door open and climbed down, the Viking hat almost falling off as she dropped the distance to the ground, but she caught it and straightened it. “Damn. That’s a drop. Gonna need a step stool.”
“Marge, is that… safe? It’s so big. Can you really drive it?” Doris hugged Axel tighter like he was her anchor in Hurricane Marge.
Marge scoffed. “Psht. This baby is nothing. Percy and I went RVing plenty of times. Plus, I drove big crap all the time in the army. I’m a natural. You’ll see.”
Axel and Doris shared a look, and his eyes filled with the same worry in hers.
Marge didn’t seem the least bit deterred by the shock and horror radiating from the rest of us.
“Seven days, ladies! We drive to New Orleans, we have the time of our lives on the way, and we get Alice to Mardi Gras in time for the best weekend ever! Now, get your bags and let’s mount up. We’ve got some miles to cover today.”
Alice slowly turned to me. “Sylvie. Please back me up on this. We are not driving to New Orleans in that.”
I looked at Marge, who was grinning so wide her face might split. “We might be driving to New Orleans in that.”
Doris whimpered. “It’s enormous.”
“It is very large,” I agreed.
Alice tightened her grip on Alejandro’s hand. “She’s going to kill us.”
“Well, as long as we don’t let Doris drive, maybe we’ll be okay?” I said, though even I didn’t believe it.
“Quit yer griping over there and just come look inside.” Marge waved at us and walked around the behemoth. “You’ll see it’s really cool in here!” Her voice carried from the other side.
With a shared look of terror, Doris, Alice, and I walked around the RV, and it looked even bigger when we were right beside it.
Marge swung open the door and gestured grandly. “See for yourself. A rolling luxury vacay, ladies.”
We climbed the steps, all of us crowding into the entrance, and I’ll admit—it was nicer than I’d expected.
A full kitchen along one side, a little dining area with a booth-style table, a sitting area at the front, and down the back, two bedrooms and a full bathroom.
Everything clean and modern, the kind of rental that had clearly been kept up with some care.
“Oh!” Doris said. “It’s like a little apartment!”
“I told you.” Marge spread her arms. “Luxury, baby.”