tours.
I waited for the obvious next question but she fell silent. There was no way in hell I could explain any of this to my family, so why try? We were here to see if we could find a way to rescue Sugar Maple, not play Meet the MacKenzies.
After my daughter Steffie died in an accident, I had stepped away from family and all of the baggage, both good and bad, that came with it. Too many memories I wasn’t ready to embrace. That was one of the things about big families: it’s a hell of a lot easier to disappear when there are five other siblings, five in-laws, and thirty-three grandchildren to keep track of. It would be Thanksgiving before they noticed I’d gone missing.
The Target parking lot was its usual crazy mess of runaway shopping carts, crying kids, and shoppers in search of a spot near the entrance.
“There’s one near the door,” Janice said, pointing over my shoulder.
“This tank would take out half of the Toyota next to it.” I snagged a double spot near the back of the lot.
“You coming, Jan?” Chloe asked as she unbuckled her lap belt.
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Penelope.”
“Is she okay?” I asked Chloe as we crossed the parking lot.
“No,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “She’s not okay at all.”
She told me about Janice’s decision to pierce the veil if we couldn’t restore Sugar Maple to its Vermont footprint.
“Would that reunite her with her family?”
“Probably,” she said. “Nothing’s guaranteed but it probably would.”
“Did you try to talk her out of it?”
“I told her how I felt but . . .” She glanced toward a red PT Cruiser angling for a spot. “It won’t come to that. We’re going to bring Sugar Maple back and everyone will pick up where they left off.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to that. She knew the odds were against us. She didn’t need to be reminded.
Targets are like Burger Kings and Walmarts: if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. We could have been in Montana.
“I’ll check out the cat carriers,” Chloe said.
“Better you than me,” I said with a quick laugh. “I’ll grab some prepaid cells and meet you at the checkout.”
She disappeared up the pet supplies aisle. I continued on to electronics, where I went face-to-face with a wall of cell phones. Nobody needed that many choices. I looked for lots of minutes for not much money and grabbed three of them just to be on the safe side.
“Can I pay for these up front?” I asked the teenaged clerk draped over the counter, paging through a copy of Teen People with one of those vampire boys on the cover .
“Whatever,” she said without looking up.
I headed for the pet supplies aisle, where I’d last seen Chloe. She wasn’t there but I had a pretty good idea where I’d find her.
I stopped a middle-aged man wearing a red smock and a badge that read SAM.
“Wool?” I said and he stared at me with a blank expression on his ruddy face. “You know, yarn.” I mimed knitting. “Baby booties. Blankets. Sweaters.”
He pointed toward the far corner of the store. “Over there with the sewing stuff.”
I thanked him and took three steps in that direction, when someone called out my name.
“Luke?”
I would know that voice anywhere. I put my head down and kept walking.
“MacKenzie, wait up!”
Busted.
I turned around and there was my old pal Fran Kelly, the admin assistant at my former station house, who had put the whole Sugar Maple thing in motion for me. She was pushing a cart filled to the brim with toys and kids’ clothing and a giant ten-pack of paper towels.
“Frannie!” I laughed as she abandoned the cart and made a run for me. “What the hell are you doing in North Reading?”
She flung her arms around me and gave me a bear hug a WWF contender would be proud of. “I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were still up in the Vermont wilderness.”
Definitely not the time for full disclosure. I took a quick look
I waited for the obvious next question but she fell silent. There was no way in hell I could explain any of this to my family, so why try? We were here to see if we could find a way to rescue Sugar Maple, not play Meet the MacKenzies.
After my daughter Steffie died in an accident, I had stepped away from family and all of the baggage, both good and bad, that came with it. Too many memories I wasn’t ready to embrace. That was one of the things about big families: it’s a hell of a lot easier to disappear when there are five other siblings, five in-laws, and thirty-three grandchildren to keep track of. It would be Thanksgiving before they noticed I’d gone missing.
The Target parking lot was its usual crazy mess of runaway shopping carts, crying kids, and shoppers in search of a spot near the entrance.
“There’s one near the door,” Janice said, pointing over my shoulder.
“This tank would take out half of the Toyota next to it.” I snagged a double spot near the back of the lot.
“You coming, Jan?” Chloe asked as she unbuckled her lap belt.
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Penelope.”
“Is she okay?” I asked Chloe as we crossed the parking lot.
“No,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “She’s not okay at all.”
She told me about Janice’s decision to pierce the veil if we couldn’t restore Sugar Maple to its Vermont footprint.
“Would that reunite her with her family?”
“Probably,” she said. “Nothing’s guaranteed but it probably would.”
“Did you try to talk her out of it?”
“I told her how I felt but . . .” She glanced toward a red PT Cruiser angling for a spot. “It won’t come to that. We’re going to bring Sugar Maple back and everyone will pick up where they left off.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to that. She knew the odds were against us. She didn’t need to be reminded.
Targets are like Burger Kings and Walmarts: if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. We could have been in Montana.
“I’ll check out the cat carriers,” Chloe said.
“Better you than me,” I said with a quick laugh. “I’ll grab some prepaid cells and meet you at the checkout.”
She disappeared up the pet supplies aisle. I continued on to electronics, where I went face-to-face with a wall of cell phones. Nobody needed that many choices. I looked for lots of minutes for not much money and grabbed three of them just to be on the safe side.
“Can I pay for these up front?” I asked the teenaged clerk draped over the counter, paging through a copy of Teen People with one of those vampire boys on the cover .
“Whatever,” she said without looking up.
I headed for the pet supplies aisle, where I’d last seen Chloe. She wasn’t there but I had a pretty good idea where I’d find her.
I stopped a middle-aged man wearing a red smock and a badge that read SAM.
“Wool?” I said and he stared at me with a blank expression on his ruddy face. “You know, yarn.” I mimed knitting. “Baby booties. Blankets. Sweaters.”
He pointed toward the far corner of the store. “Over there with the sewing stuff.”
I thanked him and took three steps in that direction, when someone called out my name.
“Luke?”
I would know that voice anywhere. I put my head down and kept walking.
“MacKenzie, wait up!”
Busted.
I turned around and there was my old pal Fran Kelly, the admin assistant at my former station house, who had put the whole Sugar Maple thing in motion for me. She was pushing a cart filled to the brim with toys and kids’ clothing and a giant ten-pack of paper towels.
“Frannie!” I laughed as she abandoned the cart and made a run for me. “What the hell are you doing in North Reading?”
She flung her arms around me and gave me a bear hug a WWF contender would be proud of. “I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were still up in the Vermont wilderness.”
Definitely not the time for full disclosure. I took a quick look
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