I pick the bill up and toss it back to him.
Mabel’s got a whole basket strapped to the center console with Ziploc sandwich bags of sweets—brownies, cookies, popcorn. All decorated with red or green frosting or sprinkles. None of it is in a sealed package.
“Slow down, boys, one question at a time.” She glances at Conor in the rearview mirror, sitting at a light that I think we can turn on red at. She places her hands in her lap, so I guess we’re not going anywhere. “It’s not late, it’s early. I wake up atthree every morning. Do my stretching and then go out to pick up rides.”
“You don’t find it dangerous?” Conor continues, and Tweetie gets annoyed.
“You’ll have to remember that question because it’s your friend’s turn.” Her eyes shift to Tweetie. “Yes, they are homemade. We all get together and swap our treats, so you get a variety.”
They all? There’s more than just Mabel?
“But my speciality are the sugar cookies.”
“Oh, that sounds good.” Tweetie gets up and reaches between Henry and me, trying to place the twenty in her money container made out of a leftover container with a slot through the plastic lid.
Henry pushes him back. “You’ve eaten enough.”
“Now now, boys, that’s not nice. He’s a growing boy.”
Henry and I exchange a look.
“Hey, Mabel, the light is green now.” I inch forward in my seat, anxious to get this thing moving.
Her hands slowly go to the steering wheel and turn with the perfect hand-over-hand technique as though she were taking her driver’s test.
Tweetie keeps tapping Henry on the shoulder with his twenty-dollar bill.
We finally get on the highway, and I follow on my own GPS to see how close we are to the destination, but since we only travel in the right lane as every tractor trailer passes us, it’s like we’re barely moving.
We learn that Mabel used to be a teacher. She’s a widow and has one daughter. She asks us if we’re single, to which we inform her we are all very much taken.
“I’ve got a baseball player if she’s interested,” Tweetie says. “Likes to walk in rooms unannounced.”
Henry grows tired of Tweetie’s pestering and takes the twenty from him, putting it in the plastic container and tossing him a bag of cookies, which finally shuts him up.
An alarm on Mabel’s phone goes off when we’re about ten minutes away from the rental shop. Mabel pulls over to the side of the road, and the tires slide on the snow a little before she comes to a stop. I want to message Kyleigh and tell her I love her and Parker if I don’t make it home.
“Is there a problem?” Henry asks, leaning between the opening of the seats to address her.
“I just have to take my pill. Give me a minute.”
Conor grunts behind me.
“Oh dear,” she says, reaching into a bag in the front seat. “I forgot my water.” She puts her seat belt back on and clicks on her turn signal. “Sorry, boys, I just have to stop at the gas station and get some water. I’ll be quick.”
“We’re in kind of a hurry.” I turn to the guys. “Do any of you have a water with you?”
“No, Magic, I don’t have a water bottle, because I’m not eight years old and going to school,” Conor grumbles.
“Well, if I don’t take my meds, you will get there much later.” Mabel lets loose a throaty chuckle.
Henry’s eyes widen since we have no idea what the meds are for. Having no choice but to be okay with it, we wait for her to ease back on the highway, and we all look over our shoulders to make sure it’s clear. She gets off at the next exit and pulls into a gas station.
I open the door. “I’ll get the water. Any certain kind?”
She waves me off and points at another minivan a few spots over. “Nonsense, Glady is here.” She climbs out of the van, and we all watch her.
“She bedazzled it,” Tweetie says, sounding impressed by the silver bling that reads GrannyGo shining on the back of her velvet track suit.
