Page 17 of The Executioners Three
Mmmm. Manly man soap smell.
“Hey Mom!” Freddie roared, swinging out of her room—only to barrel straight into Mom and Steve standing right there. They looked sheepish.
“Were you just listening to my call?”
Mom gave an appalled gasp that Freddie didn’t believe for one second. Then, in a deft change of subject, Mom reached out and pinched Freddie’s collar. “Where did you get this jacket?”
Freddie couldn’t keep from smiling. “Kyle Friedman lent it to me. And now he’s on his way here.To pick me up.”
“Kyle Friedman?” Steve asked. “Wasn’t he the kid who tried to start a local surf team?”
Mom, meanwhile, grew hearts in her eyes. “He offered you a Fruit Roll-Up in fifth grade, didn’t he? When we had to pick up a box of old documents at his house. What a charmer.”
“Yes,” Freddie said, surprised her mom recalled that. Then again, it had been a Very Exciting Day for Mom—reclaiming forgotten documents in the old Historical Society members’ garages. It had also been a Very Exciting Day for Freddie, since Fruit Roll-Ups were alsoverboten.
“Me and Divya are going out with him and his friends.”
“Did you hear that?” Mom threw Steve an exultant smile. “She has friends!”
Freddie scowled. “I’ve always had friends.”
“More like friend, singular,” Steve countered.
Once more, Freddie stuck out her tongue. Then she turned to her mother. “You have Xena?”
“Oh, yes!” Mom scooted for the kitchen. “Thank you so much for letting me use her.”
Freddie followed on her heels. “Did you replace the film?”
“Of course.” Mom snagged the Nikon F100 off the counter and handed it to Freddie.
Who instantly hugged the camera close. “Did you miss me, little warrior princess? I know, I know. I missed you too, my sugar wookums.”
Steve cleared his throat. “Get a room, you two.”
Freddie side-eyed him. “Don’t listen to the mean man, Xena.”
“When will you be back?” Mom pushed in. She was bouncing on her toes. “Late? Teenagers should stay out late.”
“I don’t know, Mom. You’re the adult here.”
Mom blinked. “Okay. Then just be back in time for Y2K. No one knows what’s going to happen. It could get dangerous.”
“That’s two and a half months away.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Be serious, Mom. My ride is probably here by now!”
“Her ride, Steve. Did you hear that? She has aride.”
“Mom!”
“Okay, okay. Does oneA.M. seem fair? Maybe two is better.” She tapped her chin.
Freddie’s eyes widened. “Only if you want me to get arrested. The city has a curfew of midnight for anyone under eighteen.”
“Well, then midnight it is!” Mom slapped her hands onto Freddie’s shoulders and twirled her toward the front door. “Although,” she whispered as she pushed her daughter forward, “I won’t tell Sheriff Bowman if you’re a bit late.”
