Page 6 of Grown-Up Second Chance

“Because it’s the way I want it,” Liz said firmly. “Now make sure you eat your salad. Got to get some greens in you.”

I obediently put a heaping helping of salad on my plate and passed the bowl to Kathleen.

“Is she always this much of a tyrant?” I asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then why were we protecting her all those years?” I asked. “Who’s protecting us from her?”

“Good question,” Kathleen said. “Maybe it should be a cucumber shoot-out at dawn to see who can take her down?”

“Tomatoes would be better.”

“Not tomato season yet.”

“Good point.”

“I’m ignoring you!” Liz sang out, then dug into her salad and chewed away while staring at us, her expression rather like Peter Rabbit’s after he’d once again escaped the wrath of Mr. MacGregor.

Kathleen and I looked at each other, shrugged, and stuck forks into our own greens.

It was good to be back with family.

~~~

“Are you sure you know how to operate this thing?” Kathleen asked as I set the smokeless fire pit up in the center of our chairs.

I was especially proud of my new acquisition. It had been pricey, but I had envisioned hours around the campfire with my sisters, talking about our childhoods and catching up on the missed years as adults. And maybe roasting a marshmallow or two.

YouTube videos and the excellent instructions provided by the manufacturer made me confident.

“I’m sure I can handle it.”

Using the logs the camp store had delivered that afternoon, I set up the teepee just as I’d been taught in Girl Scouts. I’d purchased the special fire-starter material at the same time I’d gotten the grill. Around the logs I carefully tucked what looked like a mass of Ramen noodles from one of the cheap packages college students consume.

I was just about to start the fire when our neighbor came around the front of his RV. He was carrying a can and accompanied by a small furry dog. Our neighbor had arrived.

“I got just what you need,” he said. “I was out walking my dog … this is Hooch … remember from the old TV show? Anyway, I saw you settin’ up this fire, and I said to myself, Henry, I know just what these gals need.”

He paused.

I was almost afraid to hear what came next. What exactly was it that he felt “us gals” needed that only a man could provide?

I shuddered.

“So I brought over my can of trusty lighter fluid. It’ll start anything,” he said. He took a step toward my brand new smokeless never-use-an-accelerant fire pit.

I rose from where I was sitting and held up my hand.

“Don’t come any nearer,” I warned, holding up my lighter stick. “I’m armed.”

His face whitened, and he stepped back.

The dog started yapping.

I glared at it.

“Shh … shh,” he said. “Don’t go botherin’ the lady now.”

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