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"Yeah, you. What's this with Thailand?"
I arched a brow. "Now you believe me?"
He shrugged, tipped up the corner of his lip. "You have to admit, it's a good front for being Silky Tangles."
"Silky Tangles?" Esther asked. She narrowed her eyes at me. "I thought you looked familiar. You're pretty smart going off and doing that job on the sly. I could pull it off if I was a few years younger. My breasts aren't quite what they used to be."
Goldie chuckled into her drink. JT shifted uncomfortably, possibly from the visual Esther shared or indigestion. How Esther knew who Silky Tangles was had me putting down the remainder of my sandwich for good.
The RV came to a stop. "Okay, people. I need a break. I'm starving," Velma said as she turned off the engine and came into the back to join us. I glanced out the front window. We were in a Wal-Mart parking lot, the farthest spots from the entrance.
"Where are we?" Goldie asked, glancing out the side window.
"Hardin," Velma replied, making herself a sandwich.
"I'll drive," Esther piped in.
"Oh no, you don't," JT said. "You've had way too much to drink and that secret ingredient you mentioned has to be some kind of moonshine. Unfortunately, none of us can drive except Velma."
"In that case, I say we spend the night here, get schnockered, then head out in the morning," Esther said. She worked her wayout of the recliner and grabbed everyone's cup, added one from the cabinet for Velma, and lined them up on the tiny countertop.
JT glanced at his watch, rolled his eyes. "We've been gone ten hours and only made it two hundred miles. At this rate, we'll be in Sturgis in three days."
"Then have yourself another drink. It'll change your whole outlook." She handed him a full cup.
"We're in Montana, one of the prettiest places on earth and our view is the Wal-Mart parking lot," Goldie grumbled.
"Just for tonight, GG," Velma commented, accepting the cup Esther offered her and taking a big sip. "Wow, that's a serious drink. I'm too tired to search for a campground. Besides, you can always park your camper overnight at a Wal-Mart."
I wasn't getting involved in this one; I was along for the ride. I knew going in that this wasn't going to be a straight shot to Omaha since nothing with Aunt Velma ever went as planned. I'd hoped, but deep down, knew that I was doomed. It was going to be an adventure; I just didn't know what it would entail. JT, on the other hand, had to come to the realization that Sturgis might not actually happen. Maybe he had come to terms with this because when Esther handed him his drink refill, he tossed it back like a fraternity brother.
"Let's play a game," Esther said, settling back into the recliner.
I had no interest in playing Quarters and Truth or Dare with this group would give me nightmares.
"What game?" Goldie asked.
"What's the one word you hate?"
"That's a game?" Aunt Velma asked.
"Sure," Esther countered. "I'll start. I hate the word tabernacle."
"Tabernacle?" Goldie repeated, shaking her head. "What on earth is wrong with that?"
"It's the 'nacle' part. It just sounds weird. I mean, it's just a funny sounding word for a church. What's the point?"
Okay, the wordwasweird.
"You go next, Daphne," Esther said.
I thought for a moment. "Slacks." Everyone glanced at me. "What? Old grandpas wear slacks, so I hate it when I read in books these thirty-year-old hot guys are wearing slacks. It ruins it." I took a gulp of my drink. "Pants is better."
The ladies considered it and somewhat grudgingly agreed.
"I don't like the word demure," Aunt Velma said.
Goldie frowned. "Why not? What on earth is wrong with it?"
