Brenda drove the big RV through the park, searching for campground number fifteen with a scenic view of the ocean. She glanced at Naughty Nana, aka Sandy Baker, sitting beside her, whose nose was buried in the latest issue of a Hollywood gossip rag, her mouth thankfully silent.
They’d been on the road together for over a month, and so far, Sandy’s only contribution was her constant yammering at Brenda about her desire to get remarried.
The only time the woman’s jaw wasn’t yapping was when she slept or read the latest trash magazine. Eight hours a day of non-stop lip-smacking, whether it made sense or not, had left Brenda with a case of selective hearing. Only so much time could be devoted to talking about men before you repeated yourself. Sandy yammered on like a stuck recording, repeating herself over and over.
Brenda had learned all the details of Sandy’s two husbands and how they had died, leaving her barely enough money to survive. How their children didn’t want her living with them. How she’d given up everything to come with Brenda on this journey to find husband number three. And God love her, Brenda hoped she found him soon.
The distance between Texas and Florida had not eased Brenda’s longing for George, and she’d come to realize that maybe she was only meant to have one true love in life. Maybe, when George died, part of her had gone with him. Maybe she would spend the rest of her days alone, but Lord, she knew she didn’t talk non-stop about his death.
“Oh, look at that, would ya? You can see the ocean from the campsites. Which one is ours?” Sandy asked, the magazine momentarily forgotten.
“Number fifteen.”
“Oh, I can’t wait. As soon as you park this big rig, I’m going to slip on my bathing suit and check out the beach for men and shells.”
Nothing like seeing a sixty-five year old grandma, size sixteen, bleach blonde hair, and saggy wrinkles in a bathing suit, strutting around the campground, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The sight was guaranteed to make you diet.
One thing for sure, Sandy wouldn’t be around to help set up camp. In the month they’d traveled together, she’d done little more than pay her portion of the gas and groceries. No help with the cooking or cleaning.
Instead, she flitted like a lovesick bee from one RV camp to the next, meeting people and searching for nectar.
Before they left Baton Rouge, Sandy had made the announcement that on this trip she would find love once again. More power to her, but so far her search had only yielded lust. As long as it was male and they were breathing, she was interested.
“There is number fifteen and would you look at the scenery right next door.”
Two gray-haired gentlemen in walking shorts sat outside their trailer, a can of beer in one hand.
“I don’t see any women’s bathing suits hanging on their clothes line. I bet those boys are in need of some female companionship.” Sandy clapped her hands like an excited child. “This is it, I feel the vibes. We’re going to get lucky.”
Lucky at what? Brenda thought with a sigh. Syphilis? Gonorrhea?
Brenda drove past the concrete slab of the campsite and backed the big rig into the small space, lining up the camper with the water and electrical connections. She pulled the parking brake and gazed out at the scenery.
“We’ve arrived,” she said, turning off the engine and watching Sandy’s ass exit the camper. Brenda sighed, glad to see the woman go.
Oh God, I promise I’ll never choose a traveling companion online again!
Brenda opened the door and slid out. With keys in hand, she unlocked the side panel and grabbed the chocks that blocked the wheels so the camper couldn’t roll. The routine of making camp took over as she hooked up the water and electricity.
Sandy had blazed a trail over to the men sitting in the camping space next to them.
“Hello,” she called. “I’m Sandy Baker. My friend, Brenda Jones, and I are traveling together.”
Her shrill voice traveled across the area, competing with the pounding of the ocean against the beach.
Brenda stopped and drew in a deep breath as memories washed over her like the surf, threatening to pull her under. George on the beach with their children laughing as he chased after them in the water.
Damn him for dying before her.
The pounding of the waves soothed her, and she focused on breathing air in and out, remembering George’s hands on her, the memory bittersweet. She missed that old man. Yet, the ocean never failed to give her peace.
No, this wasn’t the perfect situation, but in the last month she’d felt more alive than she ever had sitting in that empty house. Like her daughter, she had to move on with her life. George was gone and somehow she had to learn to live without him. Leaving all her friends behind had been tough, but change never came easy. Sometimes you had to jump into the surf of life, even if that meant you got slammed into the sand.
At the crunch of gravel, she whirled around to see the two men in their late sixties following Sandy into camp like obedient puppies. God, men were easy.
“Brenda, come meet Dick and James. They’re retired and traveling together, just like you and me.”
Brenda gazed at the tallest of the men, James. Big brown eyes twinkled with merriment, and his wrinkled face had an infectious smile.
“I’m James,” he said to Brenda. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied, wishing they would leave, so she could finish setting up camp.
“Nice camper.”
“Thanks, it’s courtesy of my dead husband.”
One thing she could say about George, he’d left her well taken care of and for that she was grateful, though she would rather he was by her side.
“Oh,” he said taking a sip of beer from the can in his hand.
“Yeah, we were supposed to travel together, but unfortunately, he couldn’t make it.”
He gave her a compassionate glance. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said, not really knowing why she had told him about George, but James had a kind face and a sympathetic gaze. She just hoped he was smart enough to stay out of Sandy’s clutches.
“Can I help you set up your camp? Maybe hook up your electricity?”
“Thanks,” she said, “I have the power and water done. All I need to finish is roll out the awning and string the lights before dark. Then I have to cook something for us to eat.”
It was nice to have help setting up the camp. And James obviously knew what needed to be done.
“Don’t worry about cooking. We have fish on the grill that are almost ready. Why don’t you girls come over in fifteen minutes and we’ll have dinner together,” Dick offered.
Brenda shook her head. “Oh no, we couldn’t impose.”
“We’d love to,” Sandy responded, giving Brenda a quick glance of disapproval. “Let us freshen up a bit and we’ll bring a salad. That’ll be our contribution to the meal.”
Oh, no. Sandy had thrown out her bait and looked like she was about to hook a sucker.
“Sounds great,” Dick said.
“In the meantime, I’ll finish setting up camp,” Brenda replied, dreading the evening after a long day of driving.
“Here, let me help you with the awning,” James offered, stepping forward and taking the crank handle from her.
He rolled out the awning, pulled out the poles and snapped them into place. He made it look so easy. She wanted to curse George all over again. Why couldn’t a woman have the strength of a man?
“Well, damn, you did that in no time. It takes me thirty minutes.”
“And sometimes it rolls back up all by itself, because she didn’t do it right,” Sandy informed them, throwing her two cents into the conversation.
Brenda resisted the urge to strangle her. It wasn’t like she helped pull the awning out or even held the poles for her.
“Me, I don’t do manual labor,” Sandy announced. “I gave up that nonsense when I received my first Social Security che
ck.”
“You can say that again,” Brenda said, beneath her breath, her teeth clenched.
Brenda figured Sandy had given up manual labor years before she received her social security. The woman thought work was something you convinced other people to do for you. And right now she had Brenda. But that wouldn’t last forever. Soon she would either find a husband or Brenda would decide to head the RV back to Baton Rouge. And that could happen very soon the way things were going.
“I’m going to go get ready. See you soon,” Sandy said, climbing into the camper.
“I need to go check on the fish,” Dick said, and left James and Brenda alone.
“What else can I do to help you?” James asked her, an easy smile on his lips.
Brenda opened the box on the side of the camper and pulled out a string of stars that, when plugged in, would light up the camping area. They shed enough light that she could walk around at night without a flashlight.
“All I have left are these lights to hang.”
He grabbed the string from her. “Where do you want them?”
Uneasiness settled over her as she gazed at him, wondering about his intentions. “I’m not used to men offering to help me. What is it you want?”
He grinned. “Talking to Dick all day and night gets kind of boring. A little female companionship over dinner is something that I would do back flips for, if I still could.”
“What do you mean by ‘female companionship’?”
She wanted to make certain he knew right up front that there would be no hanky-panky with her. She couldn’t vouch for Sandy, but Brenda wasn’t playing that game.
“Dinner and conversation,” he said, raising his hands. “That’s all.”
“You’ll get plenty of conversation from Sandy.”
Stringing the lights around the awning, he said, “Someone to sit around the campfire, listen to the surf pound the beach, sip wine, and talk with would be nice.”
That sounded way more than nice. How could she say no? “Okay, dinner with someone other than Sandy sounds great. I think I can do that.”
“Good. Now I have the lights strung. What else?”
“I’m done.”
“We’ll see you at six-thirty,” he said, with a wave as he left camp.
“Yeah, we’ll see you then,” Brenda said, for the first time actually anticipating the dinner Sandy had charmed their way into.
It sure beat the shortcut Sandy had suggested on the road in Louisiana. Nothing like driving a gas-guzzling tank of a camper down a muddy dirt road.
Brenda was certain they were going to meet Jesus on that road, and Sandy almost had, because Brenda had been ready to dump her out of the moving vehicle.
Brenda watched James stroll back to his camp. She had come on this trip to meet new people, experience new things, and have fun. Maybe, the time had come to start doing just that.
Katie trudged up the stairs to her dorm room, not knowing what to expect and wishing that one of her parents were with her to experience her first day at college. Why had it seemed like her father had been relieved to see her leave. All her dreams of leaving for college had never been like the reality. She’d thought her parents would deliver her to school and they would have the tearful goodbye.
Instead, she was alone and questioning everything she’d come to believe in the last eighteen years.
Nervous, she opened the dorm door to see a big bouquet of flowers on a desk. With a quick glance around the room she realized she’d arrived before her roommate.
Walking over to the flowers, she saw her name on the card. She imagined they were from Matt and quickly tore open the card. Disappointment filled her as she read the message. I’m so proud of you. Love you with all my heart, Mom.
A gigantic lump formed in her throat. She clenched her eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling onto her cheeks. She refused to cry.
Two months had passed since she’d seen her mother and she missed her. All summer she’d tried not to think of how, in summers past, they would have spent time together, even going on girl trips. But no matter what, Katy ached for her mother.
If she’d learned anything this summer, it was that her mother was the better parent. Her father loved her, but her mother was always there for her. Her father was absent most of the time, and she couldn’t stop wondering if he'd been this absent in the marriage to her mother.
She glanced around the dorm room, her home for the next semester on the campus of the University of Colorado.
Nowhere felt like home anymore. She sighed and returned to her car to haul up her suitcase. Her Mom had wanted to help her, but she’d refused. Her Dad hadn’t even offered, just kissed her on the cheek and told her to drive safely. All alone, she’d driven from Texas to Colorado.
She wondered if he was as relieved to see her go as he’d appeared.
He’d not participated in the shopping for her dorm room, but handed her his credit card and told her to get what she needed. A thousand dollars later, she’d bought stuff just to spend his money and punish him for not making dorm decorating fun.
Staying the summer with him had been a huge mistake.
She hauled up the last box of her things, feeling like an outsider as boys and girls called to one another. What was she doing? Why hadn’t she let her Mom come with her? At least her mother would have helped her get settled and made the experience fun.
But no, she told her Mom she could do this on her own. Now, as she watched families helping their kids get settled, carting boxes and having teary farewells, loneliness settled over her like a suffocating blanket.
Katie closed the door to her room and sank onto a bed on the far side of the wall. Maybe she should grab her stuff and haul ass. Jump in the car and drive as far away as possible and not tell anyone. Would her parents care if she never showed up for college?
The door swung open and a skinny, blonde, geeky girl entered the room.
“Hi,” she said awkwardly. “I’m Crystal. You must be Katie.”
“Yeah,” Katie replied, thinking they couldn’t have picked two people more dissimilar.
Crystal’s mom and dad rushed in and dumped boxes and suitcases. The small room felt cramped as they all exchanged names and information.
As she watched them help their daughter unpack, loneliness swamped Katie, leaving her nauseous. She wanted to go home. But where? Not like she had a home anymore.
Soon, they stopped and glanced at each other, knowing the time had come to say goodbye. Katie just wished they would end it and leave. She didn’t need to witness this gushy, emotional family moment that she’d not experienced and wanted so badly.
Previously she’d been the girl with the family bond. Now she had nothing.
Crystal’s mom tried to smile at her daughter, but her eyes filled with tears. “Now, if you need anything, call, and when you want to come home, you’re always welcome.”
“Yes, Mom. You’ve already told me a thousand times,” Crystal said as her mother crushed her against her chest.
Katie’s stomach cramped fiercely. She wanted her mother worse than a baby would. She wanted her family back. She wanted them the way they were before the divorce.
Or had that all just been a front for the child they’d created together?
Her dad squeezed Crystal affectionately. “Do us proud honey.”
“I’ll call you,” Crystal promised, walking them to the door.
Her parents stood in the hallway, gazing at their daughter, and finally, with tears in their eyes, they turned and left. Crystal closed the portal and turned to Katie.
“Okay, give me the scoop. Have you checked out the boys yet?”
Katie gazed at the girl, startled by her question. Maybe she wasn’t as big a geek as she’d originally thought. “No. Maybe we should cruise the hall and see what we can find.”
“Let me fix my lipstick and let’s go. I’m so excited. College! Parties!”
Katie smiled. Maybe things would be okay.
Marianne drove her car slowly along the tree-lined street of older Victorian homes, searching the house numbers. From her college advisor she’d learned of a last minute cancellation that made a small garage apartment available. The rent was affordable, and if the apartment was nice, she’d live alone in her own space for the first time in her life.
The fear of living alone tinged the excitement to find the perfect place, yet she couldn’t wait.
Spending the last month with her friend, Paige, had gotten old. After years of living in a house, a boxy apartment seemed sterile and suffocating. She needed a yard with flowers and trees, even if they would soon be snow-covered.
She pulled up in front of a yellow Victorian home with a wide sweeping porch surrounding the warm and inviting house. The wind scattered dried foliage along the sidewalk, while a huge oak tree sprinkled the lawn with orange and gold leaves. The neighborhood reeked of old money and antiques. It was a place she would like to live. She put the car in park and switched off the engine.
Eager, she reached for the door handle of her old, beat-up mini-van. She cringed when the car door emitted a painful creak as she stepped out of the car. Daniel had promised her a new car when he received his bonus two years ago, but instead he’d bought himself a BMW. For appearances, he’d told her.
The roar of a motorcycle engine distracted her and broke the historic ambiance.
Following the driveway, she walked around the corner of the house to the back. A muscular man was bent over a Harley-Davidson, tightening a bolt. He twisted the handles, causing the engine to sputter an unhealthy cough.
A leather jacket encompassed his broad shoulders and a baseball cap turned backwards covered his head. This Easy Rider wannabe looked out of place here and for a moment she doubted she had the right address. Yet behind a vine-covered trellis, she could see a stairway leading to an apartment nestled over the garage. The professor’s son, possibly?
She cleared her throat to gain the man’s attention, but he didn’t respond. She didn’t know if he’d heard her over the sputtering engine.
Secrets, Lies, and Online Dating: Three Generations Learn to Love Again (Women's Fiction) Page 5