RV There Yet? by Diann Hunt Read Free Book Online Page B

try it.”
    Lydia pops her head in the door. “Hey, I’m going to go inside for a minute to get a bag of chips. You guys want anything?”
    â€œNo thanks,” we say.
    â€œYou want to drive next?” Lydia asks me.
    Gulp. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.”
    â€œYou can try it out by moving straight ahead, away from the pumps, so other people can get their fuel.” Lydia motions to an empty spot.
    â€œReally? You want me to try it?”
    â€œSure.” Lydia closes the door.
    Starting the engine, I carefully edge forward. My queenly perch lifts me above the masses, and I sense this whole power thing could get the better of me. Okay, so I only moved forward a couple of feet, but still.
    â€œYou’re blocking those cars,” Millie graciously points out.
    I turn to face Madame Librarian. “Well, if the drivers come back before Lydia, I’ll move. No use worrying about it now.”
    Lydia steps up to the store’s door as if she hasn’t a care in the world. Just goes to prove you never can know what’s going on in the heart of another person. A man holds the door open for her.
    â€œNow that’s just nice,” I say, pointing to the man, who is dressed in a crumpled white T-shirt, black jacket, tattered jeans, and dark, scuffed boots. Gray stubble shadows his chin. “Not much to look at, but nice.”
    Millie turns to see what I’m talking about. “Yeah, you don’t see many men doing that nowadays. If you’re not a babe around twentysomething, the men don’t even notice.”
    â€œBabe? Did you just say ‘babe’? In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you use that word.” You think you know a person.
    â€œHey, I’m hip,” she says, thereby proving she’s not.
    We look back toward the guy holding the door open for Lydia. “That guy reminds me of Bruce when he lost all that weight before they found out he had diabetes,” Millie says. “He probably weighs all of, what, eighty pounds?”
    â€œUm, I’d say he’d tip the scales at a hundred five, at least.” We both chuckle.
    â€œHere he’s doing something nice, and we’re making fun of him,” Millie says, spoiling everything.
    â€œJust like we used to make fun of the boys at camp when we were fifteen,” I reminisce. I pull out a magazine and read an article on the latest breakup in Hollywood. When I look up, Lydia is exiting the store.
    â€œYou know, a bowl of grapes sounds pretty good to me right about now,” Millie says, getting up from her chair and heading for the refrigerator. “You want some?”
    â€œNo thanks.”
    Lydia walks toward a trash can at the side of the store, still in view. I notice a teenage boy walking behind her, a little too close to suit me. Lydia must sense it too. Just as she attempts to turn around, his hands reach out to grab her. Lydia struggles to break free and takes off running toward the open field at the side of the store.
    â€œMillie, he’s after Lydia!” I scream.
    â€œWhat?” Millie asks, semichoking on a grape.
    A driver is waiting in a nearby car with its engine running. In case he’s in cahoots with that kid, I kick the RV into reverse so I can block him. Millie loses her balance and drops her bowl, sending grapes rolling all over.
    The RV’s side is too close to the car, so getting out on the driver’s side is not an option. Springing into action, I scramble to the other door. “Come on, we’ve got to help Lydia!”
    I shove the door open and run toward that teenager in full middle-age fury. He trips when he sees me coming and falls forward, hitting his forehead on the ground. “Lydia, run!” I scream. My legs and arms spread like those of a flying ninja, and I lunge at the criminal for all I’m worth. A Bruce Lee scream pierces the air. In one swoop I fall hard