Page 12 of Born to be Wilder

“Well, I’ve got the whole route mapped out here.” She tapped the paper map taped to the dashboard.

Alice recoiled. “A paper map? We all have GPS. If we’re taking an RV, I don’t want us getting lost.”

Marge snorted. “Psht. I could get us to New Orleans with nothing but a compass and a paperclip. Trust the process, Alice.”

“Trust the process to get us all killed,” Alice mumbled under her breath.

“Do we take turns driving?” Doris asked.

“No!” we all echoed while we simultaneously spun toward her, eyes bulging wide as no doubt we each remembered our last experiences with Doris’s driving.

She frowned and crossed her arms, dropping into the chair beside the table.

“Only I’m on the insurance to drive. None of you have experience with a craft of this size. I do.”

“A craft?” I arched an eyebrow. “This isn’t a boat.”

“Well, don’t say that, because if Marge drives us off a bridge, it could be,” Alice pointed out.

We all laughed as Marge grumbled she was a good driver. Then she turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled back to life.

“Okay.” Marge rubbed her hands together, and I wasn’t sure if it was because they were cold or she was up to something terrifying. “Here’s the plan. We have seven days before the main Mardi Gras weekend when Alice will earn her beads.”

We all listened as Marge kept talking. “That means we’ll spend six days on the road, staying in campsites at night and driving or exploring along the way. It’s only an eighteen-hour drive, which gives us plenty of time to stop along the way and have some fun. No wishes from the basket this year, so we need some kind of system where we each get to pick a couple things to do.”

“Oh, kind of like mini wishes?” I asked, the idea warming in my mind.

“Yeah, like mini wishes. We all have to do what the wish maker wants. As long as it’s on the route, roughly, we are all game. No exceptions.”

“And who gets to make the wishes?” Doris asked.

“Well, why don’t we take turns? Make it fair,” Marge said. “Since Alice’s wish is New Orleans, then that leaves the three of us. So, six days on the road, two days each for doing wishes. How does that sound?”

“Sounds fair!” Doris smiled. “Who goes first?”

“We need a captain system.” Marge pressed a finger to her chin, and then her eyes brightened. “Oh! The Viking helmet! Whoever wears this helmet is the captain and gets to pick what we’re doing and where we’re going.”

I smiled and reached over, plucking the Viking hat off Marge’s head and putting it on my own. “I can get behind that. Captain’s choice. Two days each.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Marge grinned. “And since you’re wearing it now, how about you be the first captain, Sylvie? I’ll show you the route, and you can do your little research to see what’s along the way that you want to do, or if you see something as we go, just call out and I’ll go wherever you want. Just… not far off the route. I’ve got the map to stick to.”

“We have GPS if we need it.” Alice held up her phone.

“I prefer old school.” Marge patted the map. “Now, we ready, ladies? Get this impromptu Wilder Widows road trip started?”

Doris clapped.

Alice sighed.

I shrugged. “Let’s go.”

Marge grinned, then pushed a button on the radio. “Born to Be Wild” poured out of the speakers as she shifted into drive. “We’re born to be wilder, ladies! The Wilder Widows ride again! Whoo!”

“Doris, you’d better pray hard we arrive safely in New Orleans.” Alice slid into the swivel seat behind Marge. I jumped into the passenger seat and buckled myself in tight, and Doris hopped into the seat behind me.

Through the big windshield, I could see our little crowd on the sidewalk—Tom with his arm around Rachel, Blake waving, Rachel waving Emma’s tiny hand, Roxie already crying and blowing kisses. Axel tipped his hat at Doris while she waved back, and Alejandro just smiled softly, those brown eyes shimmering, and I knew he was fighting back tears. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for him to let her go away for even a week during this time, but he knew we needed to be with her too. He was a good man, and she was lucky to have him at her side for this rough patch in her life.

Marge checked her mirror, the tires squealing as she pressed the gas too hard.