“You called her Sheena, Queen of the Jungle.”
“Heh.” Maggie grinned. “Oh, I was good in my day, wasn’t I?”
“Still are, Mags. One more?” She offered the now very small joint.
“Of course,” Maggie said. “This is better than wine and no calories.”
“Until we go in the bar and get french fries!” Jo said.
Maggie’s eyes widened as she exhaled a big puff. “Well, there’s certainly enough ketchup!”
They both howled at that like it was the funniest thing either of them had ever said, and Jo grabbed a bottle of industrial-sized ketchup to?—
“That’s your phone ringing, Mags.”
“Is it?” She stood and patted her jeans pocket. “I thought it was my head.”
While they giggled extensively over that, Maggie managed to find her phone, tap the screen, and…
“Oh, boy.”
“What’s wrong?” Jo asked, up immediately to peer over her shoulder. “Eli! Tell him to come and join us!”
Maggie whipped around. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No, but you are.” Jo Ellen snorted. “You better not let him know.” She sang the warning. “You’ll be in big trouble with your son.”
“Shut it.” Maggie swallowed, willed her head to clear, and, goodness, would her face stop smiling?
“You have to answer or he’ll think you’re dead.”
She was right. Clearing her throat, she sat back on the crate and gave Jo Ellen a warning look. “Stay cool.”
“Who, me? Cool Hand…Jo?”
Maggie bit back a laugh—Jo Ellen howled—and answered the phone.
“Hello, Eli.” Oh, dear. That sounded…high. Like high-pitched, not high…as a kite.
“Mom? You okay?”
“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because we’re in the middle of a hurricane.”
They were? She’d actually forgot about Norman. “But I’m safe and sound.”
Jo Ellen leaned in and mouthed, “And high on pot!”
Maggie flipped her hand and scowled, inches from Jo’s face.
“What’s Gator Jack’s like?” Eli said after the awkward few seconds of silence.
“Very crowded and loud.”
“Really, I don’t hear anything.”
“Well, I’m…in the bathroom.”
