a one-night stand with Daphne?”
JT at least blushed at the words.
“Aunt Velma,” I whined. “Can you just give us a minute?”
“Why? If I leave, the nice police officers over there are still going to get to hear you both.”
JT and I both turned to look at the men watching us like a tennis match.
I lifted my hands in surrender. “Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.”
One of the police officers cleared his throat. “Can we get your autograph before you go, Miss Tangles?”
***
I opened the door to the RV and stepped back as Tigger hissed at me from inside. “Jesus,” I muttered. The cat’s fur stood on end, the tail straight up and it’s little kitty fangs hung down like a vampire. Velma leaned in and looked over my shoulder.
“That cat is feral,” she muttered. “Esther, get your crazy cat!”
Esther, a blur of hot pink, came by and scooped up the animal. “He’s a good attack cat.”
Why anyone would want to steal the pickle was beyond me. With the coast clear, I climbed into the RV followed by Aunt Velma, JT taking up the rear.
Esther was back in the recliner, cat in lap. It didn’t look overly feral at the moment. Maybe it was schizophrenic instead. Velma settled into the jump seat and JT and I took up our usual spots, me behind the table, him across on the bench seat.
Goldie turned from the little kitchenette and handed both JT and I each a cup of coffee.
Wrapping my hands around the hot mug, I sniffed the black brew and felt my headache recede.
“We have a problem,” Goldie said.
And the headache was back.
“Oh, which problem?” I asked, taking a tentative sip.
Goldie poured another cup and handed it to Esther. “Can you pour a little whiskey in mine?”
A cell phone dinged. Velma grabbed hers from her purse on the floor between the two front seats. “Oh, it’s Carl,” she replied. I swear I saw little hearts floating around her head.
Which problem could it possibly be? I was stuck with a chauvinistic asshat, or perhaps it was the feral cat. Maybe it was the pint-sized lush, or was it the nymphomaniac Amazon? Goldie was actually looking pretty tame right about now and that was saying something.
“Put that away, Velma. Carl can live without you for a few minutes longer.”
Aunt Velma pursed her lips but put her phone away.
“What’s the problem, Goldie?”
“Seniorita is having her girl parts pulled out and we need to go and be with her in the hospital.”
JT was slumped low on the bench, his legs stretched out into the aisle, if you could call it that. He just sat there and drank his coffee, not even looking up at what Esther just said.
“Seniorita? Isn’t it Senorita ?” I wondered aloud.
“Actually, it’s Tanya Kolanowski, but that’s her roller derby name,” Aunt Velma supplied. “She’s the oldest woman on the Roller Dolls team, so it’s a play on being a senior citizen.”
I envisioned Esther with a helmet and knee pads out there on the oval course. “How old is this woman?”
“Forty-two and she’s having a hysterectomy. Something weird’s going on in there and the plumbing’s got to go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but why is that a problem?” My brain was still a little foggy, but the coffee was helping. A second cup would help even more. I got up to help myself.
“We need to go to Fargo.”
Now JT came alive. “Over my dead body.”
“I have to agree with him on this one,” I muttered.
The Dixie horn blared, making me wince.
“There’s our ride!” Esther stood, dumping the cat onto the floor, where it padded unhappily into the bedroom at the back.
“Ride?” I asked, JT tipping down the metal blinds.
“Esther’s grandson is loaning us his car so we can drive to Fargo.”
“I thought he was going on the rodeo circuit?”
“Who’s we ?” JT asked warily.
“Goldie, Esther and me,” Velma said, picking up her purse.
I held up a hand. “Wait a second. Sit down!” I shouted, the ladies were fluttering
JT at least blushed at the words.
“Aunt Velma,” I whined. “Can you just give us a minute?”
“Why? If I leave, the nice police officers over there are still going to get to hear you both.”
JT and I both turned to look at the men watching us like a tennis match.
I lifted my hands in surrender. “Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.”
One of the police officers cleared his throat. “Can we get your autograph before you go, Miss Tangles?”
***
I opened the door to the RV and stepped back as Tigger hissed at me from inside. “Jesus,” I muttered. The cat’s fur stood on end, the tail straight up and it’s little kitty fangs hung down like a vampire. Velma leaned in and looked over my shoulder.
“That cat is feral,” she muttered. “Esther, get your crazy cat!”
Esther, a blur of hot pink, came by and scooped up the animal. “He’s a good attack cat.”
Why anyone would want to steal the pickle was beyond me. With the coast clear, I climbed into the RV followed by Aunt Velma, JT taking up the rear.
Esther was back in the recliner, cat in lap. It didn’t look overly feral at the moment. Maybe it was schizophrenic instead. Velma settled into the jump seat and JT and I took up our usual spots, me behind the table, him across on the bench seat.
Goldie turned from the little kitchenette and handed both JT and I each a cup of coffee.
Wrapping my hands around the hot mug, I sniffed the black brew and felt my headache recede.
“We have a problem,” Goldie said.
And the headache was back.
“Oh, which problem?” I asked, taking a tentative sip.
Goldie poured another cup and handed it to Esther. “Can you pour a little whiskey in mine?”
A cell phone dinged. Velma grabbed hers from her purse on the floor between the two front seats. “Oh, it’s Carl,” she replied. I swear I saw little hearts floating around her head.
Which problem could it possibly be? I was stuck with a chauvinistic asshat, or perhaps it was the feral cat. Maybe it was the pint-sized lush, or was it the nymphomaniac Amazon? Goldie was actually looking pretty tame right about now and that was saying something.
“Put that away, Velma. Carl can live without you for a few minutes longer.”
Aunt Velma pursed her lips but put her phone away.
“What’s the problem, Goldie?”
“Seniorita is having her girl parts pulled out and we need to go and be with her in the hospital.”
JT was slumped low on the bench, his legs stretched out into the aisle, if you could call it that. He just sat there and drank his coffee, not even looking up at what Esther just said.
“Seniorita? Isn’t it Senorita ?” I wondered aloud.
“Actually, it’s Tanya Kolanowski, but that’s her roller derby name,” Aunt Velma supplied. “She’s the oldest woman on the Roller Dolls team, so it’s a play on being a senior citizen.”
I envisioned Esther with a helmet and knee pads out there on the oval course. “How old is this woman?”
“Forty-two and she’s having a hysterectomy. Something weird’s going on in there and the plumbing’s got to go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but why is that a problem?” My brain was still a little foggy, but the coffee was helping. A second cup would help even more. I got up to help myself.
“We need to go to Fargo.”
Now JT came alive. “Over my dead body.”
“I have to agree with him on this one,” I muttered.
The Dixie horn blared, making me wince.
“There’s our ride!” Esther stood, dumping the cat onto the floor, where it padded unhappily into the bedroom at the back.
“Ride?” I asked, JT tipping down the metal blinds.
“Esther’s grandson is loaning us his car so we can drive to Fargo.”
“I thought he was going on the rodeo circuit?”
“Who’s we ?” JT asked warily.
“Goldie, Esther and me,” Velma said, picking up her purse.
I held up a hand. “Wait a second. Sit down!” I shouted, the ladies were fluttering
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