“Good idea.” Goldie pointed to her room. She hadn’t unpacked two of them, so it should be easy.
“Okay, so, if they’re going to believe this, they can’t get too close. What do you advise? You’re the one with the Oscar.”
Goldie looked at J.J. And assessed her best acting coach's advice.
“You’re an open book, old friend, so maybe act like you’re trying to hide. Like you know they’re out there. But don’t look straight at them. Also, don’t be nice to Joe. Be the diva they think I am.”
“Got it. Come on, beefcake. Let’s hit it.”
“Oh, and Hope is going to drive through town once,” Libby explained. “At the stoplight, we’ll roll the window down enough that they get a glimpse. They’re congregating at Green and Lake Manitou.”
“I’m going to be the best bait this lake has seen since Jared put filet minion on his hook after Mama brought it home in a doggie bag.”
“Good luck,” Libby said to J.J.
“You too.”
Joe opened the door for J.J.
Goldie tried not to laugh, watching J.J. adopt a totally different posture. She was perfect. “Uh, maybe she is the real actress among us.”
“She’s for sure a ham,” Libby replied.
“Now it’s time for my performance?”
“You got it. We’re going out the way I came in. And if anyone spots you, they’ll think you’re J.J.—they certainly won’t think you’re Goldie Hayes slumming it back here.”
Goldie followed Libby out to the deck.
“The place doesn’t have a working dock. I found that out a few days ago.”
“Right, take off your tennis shoes.”
Goldie did what Libby said. It was easy to fall right back into that dynamic. Libby was good at rallying the troops and, in this case, mounting a mobile diversionary operation.
“You’re giving four-star general energy.”
“Okay, then, march!”
They waded through the weeds and out to the water, right into the muck that Goldie had gotten stuck in on the first day. She still wasn’t a fan, but with Libby’s long legs and assured direction, Goldie didn’t have a chance to really get grossed out.
The water was up to Goldie’s knees and then, as they waded further out, her hips. She was falling behind.
Goldie tried to buck up and match her lanky friend, stride for stride, but wasn’t succeeding.
Libby turned around and saw the struggle. “Here.” Libby reached a hand back to Goldie.
“I can do it, I’m—whoa.” She rethought her independence and grabbed Libby’s hand.
“Okay, where’s the little goldfish I grew up with?”
“It’s ugh, well, I am used to poolside, I guess.”
“You peeled a leech off your butt cheek with your bare hands without blinking an eye. Remember?”
Goldie remembered. Libby was right. She’d been so buffed, polished, and pampered lately that she’d forgotten how she used to be.
“Aha!” Libby waved her long arms, and a fancy-looking boat turned toward them.
