Rocky Mountain Mayhem (2 page)

“I remember Miss Wendy. She always has
candies in her purse. And Miss Lucy made me cookies for my
birthday. Those were yummy.” Audrey reached into the suitcase and
pulled out Vivian’s bra.

“Our room fits four people. Did you forget
someone?” Vivian gently took her bra back and stuffed it into an
outside pocket.

Audrey looked at her fingers and counted.
“Mommy, Miss Lucy, Miss Wendy…” Her lip twitched to the side and
she tapped her cheek as she thought about it.

“What about Miss Kate?” Vivian asked, tugging
on the uncooperative zipper.

“Oh yeah! I wore a princess dress to her
wedding. I remember.”

“You’re so smart!” Vivian scooped Audrey up
and gave her a hug. “Nana will pick you up from Miss Margie’s house
later today.”

Audrey clapped and squeezed her cheek next to
Vivian’s. “I love Nana!”

“I know you do, Sugar-pop, that’s why I asked
her to come. Y’all are going to have a fun week.”

Three-year-old Lauren toddled into the
bedroom from around the corner, dragging a pint-sized vacuum.

“There’s my little helper!” Vivian put Audrey
down and picked up Lauren. “Are you helping Mommy get the house all
clean for Nana?”

Lauren shook her head, no.

“Well, it sure looks like you are.”

Lauren looked at the floor, blue eyes
mournful, lower lip sticking out, a contrast to the happy-colored
small bows Vivian had put all around her hair, something Lauren
loved.

“Are you sad Mommy is leaving?”

Lauren hugged Vivian’s neck, still grasping
the vacuum, which knocked against Vivian’s back.

Vivian squeezed her for a moment, then drew
her back and looked at her. “I’ll bring you back a present from
Colorado, okay? And Nana will be here. You’re going to have a fun
time. Promise. Plus, Nana can cook!”

Lauren gave a small smile, but Vivian
couldn’t help but feel bad. She put Lauren down and went to check
on the twins, Ben and Olivia, who were playing with a large-piece
puzzle in their room. They were almost a year and a half old and so
cute. Ben had finally started growing straight, blonde hair and had
giant rosy cheeks, and Olivia’s light brown curls were already
falling into small ringlets.

Ben saw Vivian watching, stood up and ran
over. He never walked, went straight from crawling to running. And
sweet little Olivia, she’d been a very careful walker, never
wanting to fall. They were total opposites.

The last time Vivian left the kids had been
several months ago

when the four friends went to Mexico.

She had just turned 30, was in the midst of
her divorce and really needed to get away, so the girls made quick
arrangements and hustled her out of town. Their trip was filled
with all sorts of fun: parasailing, barhopping, market shopping,
sight-seeing. One problem though, Vivian had nearly been arrested
for murder. She and her friends, Wendy, Kate and Lucy helped the
local police solve the crime, and she was totally cleared. Since
then her life had settled into a routine as a single mom of four
young children. She smiled to herself.

It hadn’t been easy and money was tight, but
she managed. Fundraising for the hospital kept her busy during the
day, and the kids filled in the rest of her life. Her friends and
family were lifesavers. Everyone poured out to help after Rick left
and the caught-you-red-handed (squeezing fake boobs) incident in
the swimming pool. And post-divorce developments produced more shit
than she could shake a stick at.

Vivian loaded up the car with kids and
luggage, gave her dog, Cooper, a treat and then headed over to Miss
Margie’s house. She super-squeezed all the kids goodbye, then
pointed the mommy-mobile to the airport.

She and her friends had decided on the Rocky
Mountains based on the recommendation of their masseur friend in
Playa del Carmen, Rodney. He had worked at a fancy resort near Vail
and suggested going during “mud season” in late April/early May
when the room rates were lower and most spas discounted. Lucy,
living in Boulder, agreed, and having her vehicle handy helped save
money.

The girls booked their flights and room
months ago, making the trip über-affordable. Vivian called in her
mom to keep the kids since Rick hadn’t gotten permission from the
SPS (swimming pool slut) to take the kids a little extra.

Whatever
, Vivian thought as she
followed the signs to the airport.
I managed, just like I always
do, and I’ll be up in the mountains soon enough
. She pulled
into remote parking and pushed the button for a ticket. In no time
she had parked, been picked up, gotten her boarding pass from a
kiosk, checked her bag and made it through security.

Damn, I’m making good time. My life never
goes this smoothly
!

She grabbed a soda and bag of chips from the
bookstore and stopped to peruse the titles. After a while she
checked her phone and decided it was time to head to the gate. The
plane was loading already, so she hopped into the back of the
line.

Air travel is safer than riding in a
car
. She tried to keep herself calm as she took her seat, near
the wing of the plane. It only partially worked.

Nervous and needing to occupy her mind, she
picked up the inflight magazine and turned to the Mensa quiz. “The
same name applies for a kitchen appliance and where cattle graze.”
Stove, oven, refrigerator, microwave, mixer, blender, food
processor, field, pasture, ranch
. Not wanting to look up the
answer, she moved on. She skipped the Tom Swifty sentence, they’re
always stupid, and instead figured out how many Girl Scouts sold
how many boxes of cookies. She allotted the other questions a
minute each, gave up and flipped to the answers. Range was the
kitchen appliance/cattle grazing.
Duh
! Vivian thought.
Who uses that word
?

She wasn’t about to do the Sudoku puzzle so
she grabbed her book,
Plum Spooky
, by Janet Evanovich, one
of her favorite authors. She looked up from her book and caught the
eye of a ruggedly gorgeous man walking toward the back of the plane
to the tiny restroom. She felt an impulse to see if he’d like to
join the mile-high club.
Was he wearing a ring
?

It was only a slight impulse, so she went
back to reading about the mishaps of Stephanie, drinking her Coke
and eating her chips. As he walked back to his seat, Vivian eyed
him all the way, enjoying the view.

Before long she had given her trash to the
flight attendant and put her tray table up. Then she was back on
solid ground.
Thank you, Lord
, Vivian thought as the plane
rattled and slowed. Once off the plane, she made a beeline for the
restroom. She texted the girls while on the tram going from the
concourse to baggage claim.

Good news! I’m not dead. We didn’t crash.
Baggage claim in a few!

She made her way through the crowd and saw
Kate, Wendy and Lucy waiting for her by the carousel. Just like on
the last trip, they surrounded her with open arms and giant hugs.
Unlike the last trip, there were no tears. Instead, Vivian handed
out trashy straw cowboy hats and stuck one on her own curly blonde
head.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeee-hawwwww!” she yelled,
drawing the attention of numerous bystanders, but she didn’t care.
The girls yee-hawed her back, holding their hats high in the air
and waving them around.

“Nice. Where’d you get these?” Kate asked,
sticking hers back on her straight brown hair. She was the stunning
result of an American sailor and a Taiwanese mother. Tall and trim
with almond-shaped brown eyes, she was a looker and smarter than
most men who crossed her path. She met her match in Shaun, and they
had been married just over a year.

“At a truck stop, of course!”

“You can take the girl outta the Get-Down,
but you can’t take the Get-Down outta the girl,” Lucy said.

They all grew up together in
Pasa-“Get-Down”-dena, Texas, a.k.a. Stinkadena, a suburb southeast
of Houston. The city was mainly blue collar with roughnecks working
in the refineries and industrial plants along Highway 225. The air
had an aroma of rotten eggs and a color the twinge of funk. In the
Get-Down, you never knew when the next refinery was going to blow;
you just had to be prepared to hunker down. The girls laughed about
making it out alive and without any weird medical issues, though
they were only 30. Guess time would tell.

Vivian had known Wendy the longest,
technically since kindergarten, but they couldn’t remember each
other until first grade. That was a long way back to remember. They
grew up a few streets apart, and their parents still lived in the
same houses. People tended not to leave the area once they settled
in. The funky air must have seeped into their brains and programmed
them not to leave, kinda like “Hotel California.” They had been in
the same activities K-12 — Brownies, Girl Scouts, dance, band,
flags, all-around getting into trouble.

The time they drove to Galveston when
Vivian’s car overheated was classic. They were determined to go to
the beach, so they stopped every few miles to pour water into the
coolant reservoir, and they ran the heater trying to pull heat off
the engine. It was mid-July. Not the smartest thing to do, but they
were determined. Indian Beach awaited. And boys.

Vivian had known Lucy since sixth grade where
they met in band. They were band dorks but cool band dorks, or at
least that’s what they told themselves. Lucy and Vivian hit it off
instantly and have had some kind of cosmic connection ever since.
They could finish each other’s sentences, knew what the other was
thinking, and shared all the same interests; well, except Lucy was
a neat-freak and Vivian was not. As roommates at the University of
Texas at Austin they got along great, never had typical roommate
issues. Vivian kept the living room as neat and tidy as her messy
brain could. Lucy accepted it, didn’t go into Vivian’s bathroom,
and it worked.

Vivian met Kate in the ninth grade, also in
band. Though a complete brainiac, she was lots of fun and that was
Vivian’s style. She, too, went to UT Austin, and they would see
each other from time to time, usually at parties or on Sixth
Street.

The girls waited for Vivian’s bag to emerge
from the chute and laughed about Lucy wearing her high-heeled,
sling-back slutty shoes that were way too much for an airport
outing.

Lucy looked at Vivian and said, “This coming
from Ms. Naturalizer slip-on clogs.”

“I’m traveling, my feet swell, and I can
easily get these off at security. Besides, they’re comfortable, and
I can walk in them without fear of breaking an ankle. Or my
neck.”

Lucy harrumphed and grabbed Vivian’s giant
burnt-orange bag off the conveyor belt, almost losing her balance
on her stilettos.

Wendy, Kate and Vivian couldn’t help but
laugh. At least she didn’t fall on the floor like she had at the
Purple Peacock in Playa del Carmen.

“Damn, girl,” Vivian said to Lucy. “You’re
looking even better than you did a few months ago. And I’m lovin’
the hair.”

“Thanks, I’ve been training for a triathlon,
and the Colorado air does wonders for my curls.” Lucy fluffed the
auburn curls that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.
Her flawless, fair skin made her green eyes pop, and her muscular
physique turned heads.

The girls stilettoed, clogged, tennis-shoed
and flip-flopped out to Lucy’s four-wheel drive SUV and loaded
their stuff in the back. Vivian’s grandiose bag went in first.
Everything fit except the cooler, which they put in the back seat
between Wendy and Kate, who were dubbed the “Back Seat Bar
Babes.”

Getting in the passenger seat, Vivian
thought,
Nothing’s gonna go wrong on this trip. I just know
it
!

VIVIAN took her shoes off and put her feet up
on the dash as Lucy drove away from the airport, toward I-70.
Living in Boulder the past three years, Lucy made regular treks
into Denver for work and into the mountains to hike, bike and ski.
She was designated navigator on this trip, and all were glad they
had Lucy’s SUV and not a P.O.S. rent car like they did in
Mexico.

Turning in her seat, Vivian tapped on the
cooler lid, and her green eyes flashed with anticipation. “Whatcha
got back there?”

“Let’s see.” Wendy opened the lid. Her long,
silky brown hair fell across her face. “I can tell Lucy packed this
and I appreciate the organization, but it looks like an assortment
of
cerveza
, soda, water and…what’s this?” She pulled out a
bottle and read the label. “Fancy shmancy champagne.”

“That’s to celebrate with at the hotel,” Lucy
said. “We have to toast to our second girls’ getaway. Don’t you
mess up my perfectly packed cooler, there’s a system.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n.”

“Check out the seat-back pocket in front of
you, Wendy.”

Wendy stuck her hand in the pocket and pulled
out their four “Life’s a beach” koozies they had used in Playa.

“Woo-hoo!” Wendy squealed and handed them
out. “I’m all about the koozie!”

Vivian examined hers. “Boy, this is looking
ratty. It still has lime grime and sand stuck on it.”

“I thought we needed a remembrance and didn’t
wash them,” Lucy said.

“Aw, that was a great trip,” Kate said.
“Except for the Jon dying and you being accused of murder thing,
Viv.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Wendy said and
laughed. “So what’ll it be for now?”

“Beer me,” Vivian said. “Wait!”

“What?”

“Are there limes?”

“Hello!” Lucy said. “You’re dealing with an
expert here. They’re cut up and in a baggie, ready to go.” Since
Lucy had the conveniences of home, she had run to the store and
bought an assortment of snacks and beverages for the trip and cut
up limes for Vivian’s Dos Equis.