Page 46 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

It’s as though he’s just given my lungs permission to breathe.Air sparkles through my body, bringing it back to life. Tears sting my eyes. “I just didn’t want you to—we’re always dragging you into these dangerous situations—”

“And I know that if I were to one day be kidnapped while doing Tai Chi, you’d rain down hellfire on everyone and everything to save me.” Nathan pulls me close, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the warm, comforting scent of him. “We’re going to be okay, Meds. We’ll get in there, we’ll find your aunt, and we’ll get out and—I don’t know—repay these poor caterers somehow, and then we’ll be out of here, and this whole thing will be the best dinner party story ever. Can you imagine the Johnsons’ faces when we tell them about this?”

Somehow, he’s always able to make me laugh, even in the worst moments. “I don’t know, I’m sure Bryce would come up with some scandalous story to top it off.”

Nathan snorts. “He can try.” He shrugs on the chef’s jacket and buttons it up before spreading his arms. “How do I look?”

“Annoyingly sexy. How do you make even this shapeless outfit look good?”

“Talent, baby.” He winks.

“Gross,” I laugh. But when I’ve shed my clothes and put on a caterer’s uniform myself, I look down and think that yeah, maybe this will work after all, and we’ll be back in LA before we know it, trading stories with our friends overdinner.

13

Abi takes charge of the minivan full of drugged caterers, driving it away from the Ritz and parking it someplace where no one would accidentally stumble upon the unfortunate load. Meanwhile, his chauffeur drives the rest of us in the catering van to Kristofer’s mansion. Along the way, we go over our plan. Once again, we come up with a list.

Go inside Kristofer’s house as caterers. (Check. Well, almost checked. We’re halfway to achieving this point, good job, everyone.)

Big Aunt takes care of the food preparation while the rest of us go through the house to find Second Aunt.

Find Second Aunt.(How? I don’t know, how I know? You have to thinking! Thinking very hard. If you are kidnapper, where will you keep the Denzel in distress?...maybe a cellar of sorts. A wine cellar? Ah, yes, good thinking. You see? You can do anything, just need to thinking hard.)

Give Second Aunt caterer’s uniform that we have saved for her and leave the premises as caterers.(Ooh, this very good idea, just like James Bun. James Bond. Yes, James Bun, that what I say.)

There is no step 5, but Ma insists that we can’t end with Step 4 because 4 is an unlucky number.(Is mean death, you want this to end with death?)Hence, Step 5. What is Step 5?(Step 5 is, you and Nathan make grandkids.)Focus, Ma.

“I feel good about our plan,” Fourth Aunt says. “A solid five-step plan, easy to follow.”

Nathan grimaces. “Well, except we don’t have any of the important details. Like how to find Second Aunt—”

“Like Meddy suggested, she’s probably in the wine cellar,” Fourth Aunt says with confident simplicity.

“Right... but then how would we get into the wine cellar without anyone noticing, and what if she’s not in there...” Nathan’s voice trails off as he takes in the myriad expressions around him. Fourth Aunt is sneering at him like,What kind of moron can’t find his way down to the wine cellar?Ma is looking like she’s this close to wailing, and Big Aunt is looking like a North Korean dictator who’s just been told that his parade was canceled due to bad weather. “Ah, you’re right. It’s a piece of cake. We’ll find her. Somehow.” He gives a half-convincing smile, which is enough to assuage Ma and the aunties for now.

What little confidence I have is shaken as we arrive at theperimeter of Kristofer’s estate. Like Julia Child’s estate, his is surrounded by impossibly high walls topped with barbed wire. But as the front gates yawn open to let our little van trundle in, I see that his has even more armed guards strolling across the grounds. There are at least a dozen of them, and I don’t care what Julia Child says, I can’t imagine these men carrying toy rifles. Those rifles look real as hell. I gulp audibly and have to remind myself to keep breathing. It’s okay, Meddy. It’s going to be okay. You’ve been a photographer for so long, you know that people in the service industry are next to invisible. You’ve seen how Big Aunt and Second Aunt and Ma flit through weddings, practically unseen by the hosts and guests alike. This is just the same. In your black caterers’ uniforms, you are all invisible.

We’re stopped as soon as we enter the gates. Two guards, one of them with a large German shepherd, approach the van, gesturing to the driver to roll down his window. As the German shepherd sniffs around the van, the first guard says, “Name?”

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