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Dreamer had a classroom, one room style with kids spanning from kindergarten to fifth grade. More of a home school collective than a traditional school, but as she worked on getting full accreditation she’d been sure to line up as much as she could with state standards. Even with the free thinking school that wondered out of what had been the school back decades ago, now a community center, and holding class out in the elements so the kids could learn about nature. Last week they’d gone in search of sugar maples around town with a baggie full of silver dollar pancakes so the kids could tap the tree and render down the syrup while members of the club read them stories between her lessons.
“Come in and sit down.” Amber grabbed the coffee pot and held it up. “Porsche do you want some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I just wanted to talk to you about a fundraiser I thought about.” She took a seat at the table and waited for Amber to join her. “I know you’ve helped out with the smaller one for Maisie’s soccer team in the past and we did that one for Barth Syndrome research last fall.”
“Which would have yielded little without Mountain’s contribution.”
“True,” she said tucking her hands under the table so she could fidget in peace because it suddenly hit her that Mountain was the richest man in the state technically. Showing up claiming to be doing a fundraiser might be taken the wrong way. Sure, Chief could have asked Mountain to buy the rig outright, but it would be wrong for him to be expected to fund everything in Turnabout Creek. While the man didn’t live that way, he came from some rich ass family on the east coast which meant she may have chosen the wrong partner in crime.
“So, what’s this about Porsche?” Amber sat down and joined her at the table.
“You know what, this might have been a mistake,” she admitted shaking her head.
“Give me the bullet points.”
Glancing over to Maisie the second inappropriate part of her coming here on a Saturday not weekday morning reared its ugly head. Sensing her unease Nightingale tapped on the table a few times.
“Maisie, how about I give you a spring break pass to eat your cereal in the family room downstairs.”
“Really?” the bright eyed girl gushed. “Sweet, I’ll be careful I promise and if I spill, I’ll get Spot to lick it up.”
“How about you don’t spill the milk at all?” her mother suggested. “And you can put whatever is left down for Spot when you’re done.”
“Promise,” the little girl beamed as she left the kitchen trying her best to keep the spoon and bowl balanced.
“Now, what about your fundraiser are you afraid to have Maisie hear?” she prodded. “Because she knows the truth about the Easter Bunny, but if you want Mountain to dress up as one I think he’d be cool with it.”
“Let’s put a pin in that idea,” Porsche said as she tried to shove the visual of Mountain with bunny ears and a tail on the back of a G-string from her mind. A girl could get more than lost imagining him swinging around a pole with a basket. “You know this town needs a new fire truck and Chief’s been all up in the town meetings lately trying to get funding. I thought it would be a good idea if some of the guys put on a show at the Roadhouse. With your help because I plan for shit and I need Mountains’ help with convincing the men.”
“As in stripping?” she questioned.
“Yeah,” Porsche replied then under her breath said. “Maybe being a showcase dancer.”
“I’m sorry, what was the second part?”
“You know the man you got, and trust me even from a distance women know the man is yours, but think about him dressing up as a lumberjack and now the thought of him with bunny ears—” she waved her hands to clear her mind. “Look if you and Doc both approve the other Ol’ Ladies will say yes and well… We need him to shake his money maker and be on the poster to bring all the ladies in from miles around.”
“Okay, let me process your request because it’s a bit much all at one time.” Nightingale, one of two nurses at the clinic, was now making Porsche nervous as if she was ready to have her committed for going off the deep end. “Side note, you need a refill?”
“I didn’t get any coffee,” Porsche said.
“Yeah, not coffee, you’re spiraling a bit, while that’s actually great when planning big projects, I want people to take you seriously.”
“Doc wouldn’t give me a refill so I’m rationing.”
Nightingale pulled in a bit on her lips and nodded. “Let me guess, you weren’t being compliant.”
“I should leave.” Porsche stood and Nightingale used one pointed finger with the don’t fuck with the nurse look to get her to sit.
“The hell you should, it’s actually a great idea.”
“Really?”
“My man dressed as a lumber snack, hell yeah,” she said. “But I worry about the poster. You keep him au natural and you’re gonna have a few gay bears wandering in under the cloak of darkness.”
“Do they tip well?” Porsche laughed.
“Probably,” Nightingale joined in. “I think with all of us we can do it. The club I’m sure will help too I’ll talk to Mountain and maybe test out his moves. I’ll leave you to audition the single ones.”
“You don’t think Red would have to say yes before they could do it do you?”
“It’s possible, I try to stay out of club business, that being said, if there’s an issue I’m sure Roadkill will help us.”
“I’ll work on the singles.”
“And I’ll talk to Mountain and I think he could get the guys to help.” Amber smiled softly, then got a devilish grin. “Wonder if he’d let me be the oil girl for the photoshoot.”
