“It’s from all the time we spent in the pool—don’t worry,” Greta said.
Rebecca didn’t seem convinced.
“Ready?” Wilma interrupted. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, so she wasn’t sure the shot was centered, but she stretched out her hand, took the picture, and hoped for the best. “Now let’s tweet with the hashtags #campingwiththegirls #exploringnewfrontiers #nevertooOldtogetarapsheet.”
“Two months,” Adrian said sternly. Wilma could almost see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. That handsome young face of his, frowning and getting wrinkled prematurely. What a waste. “The B&B opens in a couple of months. Couldn’t they wait?”
Rachel raised her voice, sounding exasperated. “They don’t make long-term plans.”
“Two months is a long-term plan?”
“What do you think? They don't even buy their bananas green,” her granddaughter all but yelled. Wilma could also visualize her, standing as tall as possible—on tiptoe probably—facing off with Adrian. “This is an abuse of authority.”
Rebecca turned to Wilma. “I love your Rachel. You really got lucky in the grandchildren department.”
Wilma knew. She’d missed her granddaughter’s childhood because of the divorce, but Rachel had gotten in touch with her ten years ago, and when she decided to move to Alden, Wilma had been ecstatic.
“Like you can complain with Mike,” Greta said to Rebecca. “You’re both lucky. I struck out.”
Greta’s son was no fun. Her grandson, Connor, was a sweetheart, but he was in the military and was very seldom in the United States.
“I remind you I’m already taking care of all the maintenance on the sheriff cars.” Rachel’s voice was getting louder by the second.
“Three cars. Do I have to remind you what the OGs did to make that happen?”
Greta and Wilma stared at Rebecca, who whispered, “What? That was an accident! It could have happened to any of us.”
“Wait a second.” There was a pause, and then Rachel cursed. “You’re holding them in their bathing suits and wet robes? What are you thinking? They’re old. They could catch a cold and die!”
Good attempt at guilt tripping. It might have worked with other police officers, but Adrian was too seasoned. The OGs knew; they’d tried it before.
Adrian snorted. “They won’t. Viruses don’t dare mess with them. And it’s not my fault they decided to drive there in bathing suits, without any spare clothes. Wait, how do you know—”
“They’re tweeting from their cell, that’s why. You have them half-naked in there.”
Oops… and Wilma’d thought she’d pointed the camera at their faces.
“I’m going to sue you,” Rachel continued. “The whole department. This is misuse of power. Abuse of authority. A human rights violation. Whatever it’s called.”
From then on, Wilma couldn’t make out the words, because both were screaming. After a short while, the door from the corridor opened, and Rachel marched in, followed by Adrian.
“How good to see you, dear. You’re here to bail us out?” Wilma asked as the sheriff began unlocking the cell.
Rachel had her arms crossed and her lips pursed, giving him the evil eye. “I'm afraid not, Grandma.”
Adrian opened the cell and, to their surprise, pushed Rachel in and closed the door behind her. “She’s being charged with disorderly conduct.”
“Disorderly conduct, my ass,” she replied. “This is contempt of cop.”
The sheriff ignored Rachel. “The phone, ladies,” he demanded, stretching his hand out to them.
Wilma harrumphed but gave it to him. “Don’t take it out on poor Walter. He was scared of frisking me.”
“Have a great evening, ladies,” he said as he walked away. “See you tomorrow.”
“Now what?” Greta asked when they were alone again.
The four of them sat on the bench.
Wilma sighed. “Now we wait until Mike logs on to Twitter.”
The next day, Rachel stomped down the stairs of the town hall, the OGs in tow, Mike behind them.
“Sentenced to community service,” she said, fuming. “At age eighty. For breaking and entering and attempting to bribe an officer of the law. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
Her grandma and the other two culprits turned to each other and shrugged. No, not ashamed at all.
“It could have been worse,” Wilma admitted.
“Really? How much worse?”
“We could have been naked. Skinny-dipping at our age is probably considered two offenses—indecent exposure and attempted murder. If we got community service for this, imagine what we would have gotten if we gave the sheriff a heart attack.”
Ha-ha.
“And we had a hostile judge.”
“Well, if you hadn’t reprimanded him…” Although Rachel understood her grandma. Who could look seriously at a judge when you’d changed his diapers? All in all, they had been lucky. Alden only had two judges, and Greta had had an altercation during bingo with the other one, who was infamous for holding grudges.
“They have a point there,” Mike admitted, trying very unsuccessfully to stifle his laugh. “The judge was a jackass.”
“Not helping, Mike. You’re taking this rather well.”
He lifted his hands. “As they said, it could be worse.”
Since hooking up with Kyra, Mike had become much more relaxed. A year ago, he would have hit the roof and lectured them too.
“I see. Our grandmothers are going through their bucket list, and the only one worried here is me.”
“Oh, I’m worried,” Mike interjected. “I’m worried you seem to be going through the same list. Need I remind you that you also got arrested?”
“We appreciate all you do,” Wilma said, patting Rachel on the arm, “but you have to recognize you were not too… inspired when you started a brawl with the sheriff.”
“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Greta offered.
True. Although Rachel was sure a ton of honey wouldn’t be enough to sweeten that sour-ass sheriff of theirs.
Disorderly conduct charges. Apparently yelling at a sheriff and threatening to cut his balls off was punishable as a crime too.
“What exactly is a bucket list?” Rebecca asked, turning to her grandson.
“A to-do list before someone kicks the bucket,” he explained. “Get a tattoo, try bungee jumping. Shit like that.”
The faces of the three ladies brightened.
“Not helping. At. All,” Rachel punctuated.
Greta’s eyes went big. “Oh, that’s a great idea. Not the jumping. The list.”
Both her friends nodded.
Mike seemed to have finally realized his mistake and tried to change the subject. “What were you doing at the old B&B?”
“We promised Audrey that we would go for a swim when the place reopened. She would have been so pleased to see her beloved business up and running again.”
“You could have waited until it actually reopened,” Mike suggested. “We would have avoided all this mess.”