Picture Me Dead

“Ashley…” Nick began.

 

“Where’s Sharon? Is she up yet? I need to thank her for the cookies,” she said, staring back at the newcomer. She got a better look at him now. Tough guy, strong body, good-looking face, easy, powerful, controlled manner. Probably thought he was God’s gift to the women of the world.

 

She purposely looked away from him and at her uncle.

 

“Sharon didn’t stay last night. She was getting ready for some campaign work this morning,” Nick said. “Ashley, if you’ll take a second—”

 

“Can’t. I’ll hit all the traffic if I wait. Love you.”

 

Rude, perhaps, but she was in no mood for an introduction and pleasantries.

 

“Drive carefully,” Nick admonished.

 

“Absolutely. You know me.” She kissed his cheek. “’Bye. Love you.”

 

Outside, she retrieved everything that she had dropped, except, of course, the cookies that had spilled and fed a half dozen gulls.

 

She could hear Nick apologizing to the man on her behalf. “I don’t know what’s with her this morning. Ash is usually the most courteous young woman you’d ever want to meet.”

 

Sorry, Nick, she thought. She hoped the guy wasn’t a really good friend of his.

 

She was about fifteen minutes late picking up Karen, which made her about twenty-five minutes late picking up Jan. Yet once they were all in the car, it didn’t seem to matter so much, and the tension and anger she had been feeling ebbed quickly. They were still a good fifteen to twenty minutes ahead of the real start of rush hour. Both Karen and Jan were in terrific moods, delighted that they were heading off on their few days’ vacation together. There had been one container of cookies left, and Jan had happily dived right into them.

 

“Hey, pass the cookies up here,” Karen said to Jan.

 

“Excuse me, you got shotgun, I got the cookies,” Jan responded, grinning, then passed the tin of homemade chocolate chip cookies up to Karen in the front seat. Karen offered them first to Ashley, who was driving.

 

Ashley shook her head. “No, thanks.” Her eyes were on the road. So far they were clipping nicely along I-95. It didn’t seem to matter that they had started out later than intended. Not that much later, she told herself.

 

“That’s how Ashley stays thin,” Jan noted. “She has the ‘just say no’ thing down pat.”

 

“It’s because she’s going to be a cop,” Karen said.

 

Ashley laughed. “It’s because she gorged on them before leaving the house,” she told the two of them. That was true. Before the one container had gone to the birds, she’d eaten a number of them.

 

“Think they might be dietetic cookies?” Karen asked hopefully.

 

“No way. Nothing that tastes this good is dietetic,” Jan said with a sigh. “We’ll make it up, though. We’ll check into the hotel, go to the pool, swim like the dickens and walk it all off at the parks.”

 

“We’ll just eat more junk at the parks,” Jan said woefully. “Boy, Ashley, you just had to bring these cookies, huh?”

 

“If I hadn’t brought the cookies, we just would have stopped and ordered something really greasy at one of the rest stops,” Ashley assured her. “There should have been more cookies, actually. Enough to last the trip.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I dropped them. Actually, I banged into some guy looking for Nick and they went flying. His fault, not mine.”

 

“We’re going to have to stop anyway—coffee to go with the cookies,” Karen reminded her. “In fact, I’m stopping here and now. Not one more bite until we get the coffee to go with the cookies.”

 

“Milk would be good,” Jan said.

 

“Milk goes with Oreos,” Karen said. “Coffee goes with chocolate chips.”

 

“I actually had coffee, but then…oh, well,” Ashley murmured.

 

“You dropped it, too?”

 

“Yeah, I dropped it.” She grinned at Jan via the mirror. “Actually, I spilled it all over him. And myself. I had to change. That’s why I was so late.”

 

“Was it a good friend of Nick’s?” Jan asked. “Was he ticked?”

 

“Hey, was he cute, or one of the old salts?” Karen asked.

 

“I don’t think he’s a good friend, but I’ve seen him around before. I guess he was ticked. But it was his fault.”

 

“That you spilled coffee on him?” Jan said.

 

“Well, he was just there—practically in the doorway. Who expects to open their door to a hulking stranger before six in the morning?”

 

“Well, actually, you should,” Karen pointed out. “All those aging old tars living in the houseboats at the marina know Nick is up early, and they’d rather have your coffee than make their own.”

 

“So, Ash, you started the morning off by burning an old geezer?” Jan said. “That isn’t like you. Most of the people who frequent that place think you’re the most wonderful little darling in the entire world and that Nick is lucky to have you.”

 

“I hope you didn’t cause an old guy’s pacemaker to stop,” Karen told her.

 

“I don’t think this guy has a pacemaker.”