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THE RAMBLER WENT FROM 15 to 50 in a matter of seconds, whipping the three back in their seats.
“Go, Granny, Go!” Granny Boudreaux shouted.
“What the hell?” Gertie said.
Granny Magoo hooted. She looked into the rearview mirror. “It’s been pure agony driving you around as if you were a piece of china. But if you utter a word of this to your mother, I’m turning you over my knee.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Gertie said.
Marge turned to check on Celia. “She’s gaining on us!”
“Little bitch,” Granny Magoo said.
“Forget you heard that, girls,” Granny Boudreaux added, “although Celia certainly is one.”
Without slowing down, Granny Magoo hung a right at the end of the street. Ida Belle and Gertie slammed into Marge, then they all slammed in the other direction as she made a quick left.
“Where are you going?” Ida Belle shouted. “This is Palmer’s farm!”
“Martha Palmer’s a friend of mine. She won’t mind. Toss me a few of those cookie cutters, Polly,” she said to Granny Boudreaux.
Granny Magoo slowed to acknowledge Mrs. Palmer, who was hanging a bedsheet on a clothesline next to her house. “Celia Comeaux’s on our tail,” she shouted out her window. “She’ll be by here shortly.”
“Not through my farm she ain’t,” Mrs. Palmer said. She looked at the three in the back seat. “Hello, girls. Welcome back.”
“Gotta go,” Granny Magoo shouted. “Have a few cookie cutters as our appreciation.”
She tossed the cookie cutters out the window, then hit the accelerator and lurched forward, hanging a right to avoid a cow being milked by Mr. Palmer before speeding through a bumpy field of turned earth.
Marge looked back to find Celia turning onto the Palmer’s land. Mrs. Palmer yanked a sheet from the clothes pail and tossed it toward Celia’s windshield. Direct hit.
“Celia’s out of play for now,” Marge said, her voice as bumpy as the field.
Gertie screamed, pulling Marge’s attention to the windshield as a face bounced off it.
“Oh, it was just a scarecrow,” Granny Magoo said. “Don’t be a baby.”
The Rambler took one final huge bump before Granny Magoo turned left onto a paved highway, heading toward Mudbug.
“I could go for a chocolate shake at Mudbug Marty’s,” Granny Magoo said.
Granny Boudreaux chimed in. “And maybe pick up a bottle of bourbon. You didn’t hear me say that.”
Granny Magoo nodded. “First we stop off at Dolly Harkins’ place. She called last night and said she reserved a bag of discards for us.”
Granny Boudreaux turned back toward the girls. “When you get to be top-notch pickers as we are, people start leaving you the good stuff in bags. Saves your back from bending over the cans. You’ll find that out someday.”
“God, I hope not,” Ida Belle said under her breath.
Granny Boudreaux’s expression turned serious. She shook her finger at them via the rear-view mirror. “And, remember, if anybody asks about today, deny, deny, deny.”
“Celia saw me,” Marge said. “And she thinks Ida Belle and Gertie were you two.”
Ida Belle sighed. “As far as anyone knows, all we did was pick stuff out of garbage cans. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Well, we did throw things at Celia,” Gertie said.
“We?” Ida Belle said. “It’s ‘we’ now?”
Marge shook her head. “Self-defense. She had a bat. No, the sheriff can’t get us for anything. What’s important is that we have the dog hair and poop samples.” Marge then remembered what she’d taken from Bonnie’s house. “Oh, I almost forgot. I searched through Bonnie’s clothes basket. No bloody clothes, but I did find something that might be of interest.”
Marge opened her purse and whipped out the pair of men’s tighty-whities, adding a “ta-da” as if she were pulling a rabbit from a hat.
Ida Belle’s eyebrows shot up. Gertie whistled.
“And they’re monogrammed,” Marge said, holding them up. “With the initials, ‘WG.’”
“Wade Guillory,” Gertie said in awe.
“Oh, my Lord!” Granny Magoo screamed from the front seat as she stared at the rearview mirror. “You put those down. A lady does not flash men’s underpants for the world to see.”
“They’ve been washed,” Marge said.
The car veered sharply to the left.
A horn honked.
Tires squealed.
Gertie and Marge stared at the truck bearing down on them and screamed.
“Go right, go right!” Ida Belle yelled.
Granny Magoo, with Granny Boudreaux’s help, turned the steering wheel sharply to the right. Marge heard the truck’s driver scream as he sailed on by and the Rambler returned to its lane.
“Oh, crappola,” Granny Magoo said as she eased the Rambler to the right shoulder and stopped the car. She turned in her seat and faced Gertie. “Your mama doesn’t need to know about this.”
Ida Belle pulled in a breath and blew it out. “Remember to breathe. We’re alive, that’s all that matters.”
They all murmured their agreement.
Until.
“Is that a siren?”
Granny Boudreaux turned in her seat and pointed to each of the three girls. “Remember. Deny, deny, deny and we’ll all get out of this unscathed.” She gazed past Marge through the back window as the siren stopped. “Ida Belle, didn’t Walter say he had a surprise for you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Looks like you’re about to find out what it is.”
A car door slammed behind them.
Marge peered out the window at the approaching deputy. “Holy shit.”
“That is neither holy nor a decent thing to say,” Granny Boudreaux said, waving her finger in Marge’s direction.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
Ida Belle turned toward the familiar voice as Walter bent down, his face now even with the driver’s side window.
“I’ll be damned,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie cranked the window down and stuck her head out. “Walter, what are you doing in that uniform?”
“Hey, Gertie. Welcome home.” He looked at Marge. “You too, Marge.”
He cut a handsome figure in his Sinful Sheriff’s Department uniform, Marge thought. He was never her shot of moonshine, but she could see how some women couldn’t resist his wavy dark hair and hazel eyes. Those eyes were now settled on Ida Belle. His face broke in a grin.
“Surprise, Ida Belle. I was hoping to tell you over dinner at the Sinful Café later tonight, but, well, here I am.”
“We all kept your secret, boy,” Granny Magoo said.
“I appreciate that. Now, before I forget...” he said, scratching a few things on his pad of paper, “here’s your ticket for reckless driving.”
“Reckless driving?” Granny Magoo yelled as he handed her the ticket.
“You swerved in the other lane and could have caused an accident.”
“No I didn’t,” she said.
“And that was after you were speeding down the street and cut through the Palmer’s farm.”
“No I didn’t.”
“I’ve been following you.”
“No you haven’t.”
Granny Boudreaux nodded to the girls and mouthed, deny, deny, deny.
“Give me the ticket,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll pay it.”
“No you won’t,” Granny Magoo said.
Walter looked at Ida Belle. “Are you sure you want to pay the ticket?”
She nodded.
“But we didn’t do anything!” Granny Boudreaux said.
Walter flashed a stern look the grannies’ way. “Don’t even get me started about assaulting Celia Comeaux with items from her trash can.”
“We did no such thing.” Granny Magoo said.
Walter frowned as he took note of Gertie and Ida Belle’s granny outfits. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
Ida Belle turned to Gertie. “Let me out so I can settle this.”
“Show more cleavage,” Gertie whispered.
“I will not.”
Gertie sighed and got out of the car and allowed Ida Belle to exit.
––––––––
THIS WAS ONE THING Ida Belle hadn’t been expecting. Damn that Walter for looking so good in a uniform. He always did look good in his Marine dress blues. And out of them. Damn her brain for giving her that visual!
She’d been bracing for their reunion ever since she and the girls stepped onto U.S. soil. She’d seen it time and time again. Girls came back from the Army and immediately fell into marriage and family. Stay strong, she reminded herself. You have a plan. Stick to it.
They walked a few yards from the car.
“This is certainly a surprise,” she said, tapping his deputy’s badge with her index finger.
“Not as big a surprise as seeing you dressed like someone’s grandma,” he said, running his eyes over her granny getup. “Wanna tell me why you and Gertie were pretending to be garbage-picking old ladies?”
Ida Belle shrugged. “It’s not illegal and neither is picking through garbage in a public alleyway.”
“And assaulting Celia?”
“That should be the right of all citizens,” she said, smiling. “She must have left out the part about coming at us with a baseball bat. And she thought we were them,” she said, pointing back to the car. “Granny Magoo and Granny Boudreaux shouldn’t be subject to that kind of harassment. Now, explain this.” She reached over and touched his badge again, this time brushing her hand along his chest. That part was accidental. Though it did feel nice.
“What?” he asked, appearing momentarily befuddled.
Ida Belle felt slightly befuddled as well. The feel of his chest under his shirt momentarily put her into a fog, which was why she needed to steer clear of this man for a while.
She folded her arms and hugged herself, allowing a moment for her brain cells to return to their regular positions. “Well?”
“Well, what?” he asked, his brain cells apparently still bouncing about in his head.
“The uniform.”
“Oh, oh, yeah. Well, it’s only temporary. Sheriff Lee’s had trouble keeping good deputies, so I told him I’d step in for a while. My dad won’t be ready to retire for another year, so until then, I’m a Sinful Deputy.”
“You’re taking over the store, then.”
He nodded. “I have big plans. My sister Jolene didn’t want to run it. Neither did my brother. So it’ll be all mine.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Okay, so about that ticket.”
“Before we get down to business, do you mind if I do one thing?”
––––––––
“OOH, LOOK AT THAT.” Gertie watched from the back seat as Walter leaned in and planted a long kiss on Ida Belle’s lips.
“We shouldn’t watch,” Marge said.
“Hell we shouldn’t.”
“I bet he kisses just like his granddaddy,” said Granny Boudreaux.
Marge looked at her in surprise. “How do you know?”
“Never you mind.”
Granny Magoo cleared her throat. “That reminds me. I hear Tina Malveaux is pregnant.”
“How does their kissing remind you she’s pregnant?” Gertie asked.
“Because all pregnancies start out with kisses like that.”
“Ooh, they finally stopped,” Granny Boudreaux said. “I think we can kiss our ticket goodbye.”
Granny Magoo nodded, then continued talking to Gertie. “Anyway, she’ll be leaving Sinful High next year, and they’ll be hiring a new English teacher. I know you only have one more semester of college left. I just thought you might want to take the position when it comes up. Tina said she’d recommend you.”
Gertie felt her heart flutter. Growing up she wanted to be a teacher in Sinful. The town was small, so openings were few and far between. Her new plan was to complete her schooling in New Orleans and apply at one of the high schools there or in a nearby suburb.
“She can’t,” Marge said. “We’ll all be living in New Orleans. Right, Gertie?”
Marge was right, of course. As a woman of the world, Gertie would suffocate in Sinful. Yet... No, she firmly told herself, Sinful may have been home, but she had outgrown it long ago.
“Right, Gertie?” Marge asked again.
“Yes, definitely,” Gertie said. “I’m going to teach in New Orleans.” Her lack of enthusiasm as she answered the question surprised her. She was committed to New Orleans, wasn’t she?
Granny Magoo sighed. “Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“She’s coming back this way,” Granny Boudreaux said. “Don’t anyone let on we were watching.”
Gertie slid in the middle next to Marge, allowing Ida Belle to slide in next to her.
“Get the ticket paid?” Granny Boudreaux asked while adding a wink.
Ida Belle shut the door. “No, I’ll have to go into the station and do that. It’s against the law to pay a deputy directly.”
“What?” Gertie asked. “That kiss wasn’t payment enough?”
Ida Belle glared at Gertie, who just shrugged. “Well, you didn’t expect us not to watch, did you?”
“That was a ‘welcome home kiss,’” Ida Belle said.
Gertie couldn’t help but snicker. “He didn’t welcome me home like that.” She turned to Marge. “Did he welcome you home like that?”
“I didn’t watch, but I’m thinking that he didn’t.”
Granny Boudreaux reached her hand back and patted the air near Marge. “Don’t you worry, honey, one of them Wienermobile boys will be planting one of those kisses on you soon. He was just too polite to do it the first night.”
“I’m not worried,” said Marge as she swatted at her grandmother’s hand.
Gertie raised her eyebrows at Ida Belle.
“What?” asked Ida Belle.
“How was it?”
“Can we just go have chocolate shakes, get some bourbon and then go home and plan our next steps?”
“Of course,” Gertie said, then, under her breath so that only Ida Belle could here, “You’ll tell me later. I get it.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“Right on.” She winked again.