Gaye steered into a parking lot and then screeched beside a van. She threw her station wagon into ‘park’, kicked open her door, and stamped to the van. She pounded upon a windowless sliding door.
“Open up, Ronny,” she said. “I know you’re in there.”
No response.
“Okay,” Gaye said. “Guess I’ll have to call Darryl. He’s out-of-town, and I bet he doesn’t know where his van is right now.”
Suddenly, the door slid open, and a sweaty teenaged boy—shirt unbuttoned—glared at her.
“Damn, Gaye,” he said. “You sure know how to ruin an evening.”
Gaye hmphed. “Only you’d call twenty minutes in your brother’s van in an abandoned parking lot ‘an evening’.”
“Thirty minutes,” Ronny said. “How can I help you?”
“Last Saturday, the bluff—you were there, weren’t you?”
Ronny glanced over his shoulder, smiled, stepped out the van, fixing his shirt. Once outside, he shut the door. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Answer the question.”
“You know, driving about like a manic and playing detective won’t help things.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe you can.” She peered at him. “So, what’s up?”
He gazed at her and then someplace into the night. Before long however, he sighed. “Yeah…”
“‘Yeah’, what?”
“Last Saturday, the bluff—I was there.”
She nodded and then pulled a phone out a pocket and texted, and he shrugged.
“But what does that prove?” He watched her type a message. “What does that prove? Are you going to answer me?” He snatched the phone and scanned the screen, and she dug a lighter and cigarette out a pocket.
“That’s a message to you,” she said, flicked the lighter, and lit the cigarette. “An address: ‘The Happy Façade’ on Maple Street.”
He looked at her.
“Tomorrow morning, meet us there,” she said and puffed the cigarette.
“Who’s us?”
She grinned. “You’ll see.” She held out her hand, and he shoved the phone into it.
“Gaye, a lot of students visited the bluff at night.”
She nodded. “The night of a much-hyped homecoming game against a division rival?” She watched him roll his eyes and patted his shoulder. “Even you can do better than that.”
Suddenly, the van door opened, and a redhead lady leaned outside, straightening her blouse.
“Ronny,” the redhead said. “Are you going to stand outside and talk all night? If so, you can just drive me—” She looked at Gaye and then pointed at her. “Aren’t you Bethany’s little sister? You are! Beth just started college, didn’t she? I start next week. Well, how’s she doing?”
Ronny waved a hand. “Melissa, can you give us moment?”
Melissa glanced at him. “Oh, sure. Sorry.” She smiled at Gayle. “Good seeing you!”
Ronny shut the door and turned to a grinning Gaye. “What?” he said. “Problem?”
“No, I’ve just never had the pleasure of meeting a high schooler who’s already into MILFs.” She chuckled.
“Melissa doesn’t have any kids, genius. And I’ve always been fond of mature women.”
She laughed.
“But what about you,” he said and snatched her cigarette. “I bet Beth doesn’t know all your habits.”
She reached for it, and he dropped the cigarette and stepped on it.
“And bet your parents don’t know either,” he said and watched her point down at the ground.
“Now, that’s how you ruin an evening,” she said and then ambled toward the station wagon. “Tomorrow, 10:00am.”
“Sure, and I’ll bring you fresh pack of cigs.” She climbed inside, shut the door, and glanced at the ground and then nodded. “That’s the least you could do,” she said out a window and then started her engine.