Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots (Page 50)

Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots(50)
Author: Abby McDonald

“Please tell me that was the last of the ironing!” I make a return trip from the laundry room to find Susie perched by the kitchen table. Now that the decorating is finished, there are mismatched china plates propped up on an old cabinet, and faded sepia photographs framed on the wall. It looks homey and cute, just like something from those Anthropologie catalogs Fiona was hurling around.

“For now, anyway.” Susie laughs, passing me a glass of cold lemonade.

“Thank God.” I throw myself down in a chair and stretch. “Next time, can I just do something easy? Building the roof, maybe, or paving the driveway.”

“Ironing does suck,” she agrees. “Why do you think I run around in all those wrinkled shirts?”

“But not today.” I notice that she’s dressed elegantly, in a print wrap-dress and dangling gemstone earrings, and for a change, her curls are pinned back in a neat chignon. “Do you have another meeting at the bank?”

Susie gives me a mysterious smile. “Nope. I have something fun planned, for us girls. A way to say thank you for all your hard work. Ta-da!” With a flourish, she produces a glossy pamphlet.

“‘A day of indulgence at Blue Ridge,’” I read. “Wait, this is that fancy resort. We can’t go — they’re competition!”

“Exactly.” Susie nods. “We need to research. Some spa treatments, a mud bath — and if that doesn’t ease your aching muscles, we’ll bring out the heavy artillery: Sven, the Swedish masseur!”

“That’s awesome!” I’m easily convinced. “When do we leave?”

“Whenever Fiona’s done on the computer. FIONA!” she bellows with the same breath. “We have a download limit, remember!”

A few seconds later, Fiona appears, slouching in the doorway. Tugging at one oversize sleeve, she rolls her eyes. “No need to yell.”

“Isn’t it great that Susie organized this spa trip?” I say, giving her a meaningful look.

“Uh-huh.” It’s only a murmured agreement, but Susie leaps up, delighted.

“So we’re all set!” She beams at us both. “Just grab your suits for the hot springs, and we can go!”

As Susie rushes off to get things together, I turn to Fiona with a warning look. “Please, she really wants this to be a bonding thing.”

Fiona wrinkles her lip. “Like, with gossiping about boys and makeup?”

“Maybe.” I keep my gaze fixed on her. “She’s been working so hard for this place, she deserves some relaxing time.”

“Whatever.” Fiona sighs, but she gives me a grudging nod. “As long as she doesn’t try and give me a makeover!”

As it turns out, even Fiona can’t complain about the Blue Ridge experience. Soaking up to our necks in a tub of mineral salts later that afternoon, all domestic disharmony has been forgotten. Or, at the very least, stored up for later.

“So this is how the mega-rich live.” I sigh, inhaling the deep aroma of rosemary and eucalyptus, or whatever magic potion they smeared on my face to release my pores, stress, and/or tension. “Maybe I should start buying lottery tickets.” Steam drifts above the water, soft music plays quietly, and a glass wall affords us a stunning view of the valley.

“No . . .” Susie breathes, her eyes covered with a blue gel pack. “Who wants exquisite luxury when you can have creaky pipes and an old front porch?”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, only a little sarcastic. “Endless perfection is, like, sooo boring.”

I lean back, gazing out at the gorgeous vista. It’s strange, to have the sprawling wilderness outside and this high-tech luxury inside. All around us is gleaming marble and metal, with a hovering host of uniformed “assistants” waiting to bring us anything we might possibly require. But this is probably as close to the great outdoors as some tourists will get: separated by a polished plate-glass window while a manicurist attends to their toes.

Susie lifts her mask and reaches for her flute of sparkling water. “I think it’s time for a toast: To the Bramble Lane Bed and Breakfast. May she break even sometime in the next two years!”

“You picked a name? That’s great.” I congratulate her.

“It was Fiona’s idea.” She beams.

Fiona rolls her eyes, picking at the mud mask on her face. “I only said that people would have to fight their way through the brambles to even find the place.”

“But it’s perfect.” I let my toes float to the surface of the water, wriggling them. “It makes me think the place is ramshackle yet charming.”

“That’s the plan,” Susie agrees. “I decided we should keep up your ‘rugged adventuring’ marketing strategy.”

“It’s hardly a strategy!” I laugh, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Jenna; it’s worked out great. Your environmental tips have been a huge help, and we’re fully booked for opening week.”

“That’s because you did such a great job with the renovations.”

Fiona interrupts. “What is this — a mutual appreciation society?”

I grin. “OK, so maybe we’re all awesome.”

We relax again for a moment, lazily drifting in the water until Susie lets out a wistful sigh. “It’s been great having you around, kid. You’ll always be welcome here again.”

Fiona perks up. “When are you leaving?”

“Ten days,” I answer quietly. Noticing her expression, I splash water at her. “And you don’t have to look so happy about it.”

“Am not.” She splashes back. “Well, it’ll be cool not having to wait around for the bathroom.”

There. Just think, a whole summer of bitching, tantrums, and animosity could all have been avoided if only Susie and Adam had renovated those other bathrooms first!

“I’m sure Fiona will miss you,” Susie says soothingly, like a true mom. My eyes meet Fiona’s across the tub, and we share an amused look. “I know I will.”

“She’ll just miss your good influence,” Fiona murmurs, as if Susie isn’t here. “That’s why she had you here in the first place.”

Susie splutters, “I did —”

“Sure you didn’t.” Fiona arches a mud-smeared eyebrow, cracking the mask. “You were hoping all her perky enthusiasm would rub off on me.”