Page 64 of Tennessee Trouble

“Oh, this isn’t gonna end well…” April mutters.

No, it’s not. We need to rescue him. Old maid Marian somehow thinks that it’s still the 1960s and she’s Ginger from Gilligan’s Island.

I rush over there, my legs moving double time, crossing the grass at record speed.

“I’m Brandt, ma’am,” he says, swallowing uncomfortably. He’s doing everything he can to keep his eyes focused straight ahead, Marian’s loud and proud nudity doing plenty of talking on its own.

“Are you new here? I’m pretty sure I’d remember a young stud like yourself,” Marian flirts, reaching out and stroking Brandt’s arm.

“Just here on business.”

“Brandt’s company is partnering with Tennessee Trouble,” I jump in, hoping that it’s a rescue. I watch as Brandt’s eyes relax slightly when he sees me, the rest of his body still as tight as a circus high wire.

“Oh, how nice.” Marian turns to me, giving Brandt a break from the show. “And we don’t often see you here for Wash Day, Lindee. What’s the honor?”

Errrrrrr…

“It’s been awhile, and I thought maybe this could help provide some…inspiration.”

Yeah, that’s it. Inspiration. That’s what I’m after. A good old-fashioned cleansing of the mind to make way for new ideas. Simple, believable, and not all that untrue.

“Mmmmm.” She looks me up and down, eyes flicking over to Brandt and then back to me. “May you find what you’re looking for. Wash Day does have a way of bringing clarity.”

Giving us a wink, she wanders off, swishing her hips back and forth more exaggerated than Jessica Rabbit. There’s a part of me that thinks I should be embarrassed, worried about what this says about my town. But at the same time, she’s part of what makes Trouble special.

“She’s…unique,” Brandt comments when she’s out of earshot.

“Indeed. She’s very proud of everything she’s got going on there. If you let her, she’ll tell you all about the amazing health benefits of our little polar plunge, but we locals really know she likes people to see her without her bathing suit.”

“She is in impressive shape for someone of her age.”

“She should be,” April injects, not bothering to hide the snark in her voice. “Paid for enough lipo to fill a whiskey cask.”

I elbow April, unable to believe she just said that. Brandt chokes out a laugh, enjoying the commentary.

“So, this is your early morning commitment,” he says, ignoring April’s comments.

“Err…yeah…”

Shit. This is what I do believe we call busted. Not that I lied. Outright. I was just more than a little vague about said commitment, making it sound like a work thing rather than…this. Rather than admit that I need some space because I am starting to like him way too much.

“Didn’t take you for the polar plunge type.”

“I’m not, exactly. But every now and then…town tradition, after all.”

“So I hear.”

“Just how did you hear about Wash Day?” April asks, making sure we know she’s still here.

Not helping, April…

“I met Jules at Grind Away the other day. We got to talking and he invited me to join in.”

God bless our local coffee shop owner, giving away all our secrets. The man has a gift for gab, making him the perfect person to run such a spot. But with the way he shares things, it’s surprising that we don’t have more tourists show up to locals’ hot spots.

“He and his brother, Verne, have been in charge of organizing Wash Day for almost twenty years now,” I say, not sure how else to respond.

“That’s what he said. Apparently they took over from their uncle?” I nod, confirming. “Told me all about how the event started back in the late 1800s with the miners, who truly only bathed the once a month, but that it turned into more of a social thing in the forties. Although, apparently the skinny-dipping part didn’t come until the sixties.”