“I’m adesigner.”
April grinned. “You sure as shit are.”
Ramona rolled her eyes, but took her iPad out of her bag and flipped open the folio, slipped her Apple Pencil out of its slot, tapped on her Notes app.
“Okay, Dylan wants to play Putt-Putt,” she said, writing it down as number one.
“Putt-Putt?”
“Yes, Putt-Putt. But I think the new course will be too crowded, especially in the summer.”
She met April’s eye and they both grinned.
“Dickie’s,” they both said at the same time.
Dickie’s was Clover Lake’s first Putt-Putt course, just on the outside of town. It was run-down and featured creepy clowns on a lot of the holes, along with all manner of plastic animatronics covered in moss. Dickie, the owner, refused to close when the new courseopened near downtown, and the result was a cult classic attraction that was mostly frequented by high teenagers.
“Dickie’s is perfect,” Ramona said, when a knock sounded on the door.
“Ramona?” Dylan called from the other side.
Ramona turned and flung open the door, her stomach swooping to her feet when she saw Dylan’s face. Not only because she was a very famous person just,right there, but because god, she was pretty.
“Hey,” Ramona said.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Dylan said, then jutted her thumb toward the shop. “Molly needs to go.”
“Oh, shitballs,” April said, scrambling up from where she was leaning again on the desk and opening the small closet, grabbing a couple of packages of wrapping. “Thanks, Dyl.” Then she was out the door, waxing apologetically to her customer.
Dylan’s eyes followed her out, a smile on her face. “Already have a nickname. I like her.”
Ramona laughed. “She loves her nicknames.”
“What’s yours?”
“What isn’t my nickname?” Ramona said. “Ray is her go-to. Mona when she really wants to annoy me. Ona.”
“Using all syllables, I see.”
“She very resourceful. Nothing wasted.”
Dylan’s eyes sparkled. “What else?”
“Ra, Ram, Llama Face, Am—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Dylan said, holding up her hand. “Llama Face?”
Ramona fought a smile. “Pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Ramona dropped her chin to her chest, cursing how easy it was to talk to Dylan. “Then can I at least defer any questions untila later time?” she asked. She tapped her iPad screen. “I’m making us a plan.”
Dylan narrowed her eyes. “I won’t forget Llama Face.”
“I would never expect you to.”
Dylan folded her arms. “Fine, then. What’s the plan?”
