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“Only Doris would get cuffed because of fudge,” Sylvie said between gasps for breath. “Fudge.”
Alice’s whole body shook along with ours. “Fudge. Are you freaking kidding me? This is all happening over a baked good?”
“And her suspicious behavior,” the guard defended. “It’s our job to take threats seriously.”
“No, we know. We know,” Sylvie agreed. “It’s just ... If you knew Doris, you would laugh too. Fudge.”
We laughed harder, our breaths petering out as we struggled to catch the next one. Finally, the door to Doris’s interrogation room opened, and she stepped out.
Her swollen eyes, which looked like she’d been crying the whole time, clapped right onto us. “Oh, thank goodness you’re still here! I thought you may leave me behind!” Her face pulled tight as she fought more tears.
We could barely muster the strength to stand and hug her as we continued sobbing with laughter and tears.
“You’re okay,” Sylvie finally managed out as the four of us stood hugging in the airport.
“Why are you all laughing? It was scary!” Doris whimpered. “I thought I was going to jail!”
“Yeah ... for fudge,” I said, then rolled harder with laughter.
Doris frowned. “I made it for us to enjoy on the plane ride. I can’t believe they thought my fudge was a bom—”
I slapped my hand across her mouth, stopping her from saying the word that got us in this pickle in the first place. “For cripes sake, Doris! Erase that word from your vocabulary!”
She stopped moving her mouth under my hand, so I pulled it away.
“I was really scared,” she said as we all finally stopped laughing.
“I know, sweetie.” Sylvie squeezed her shoulder tight. “But we knew you wouldn’t get in any trouble. You could never do anything wrong. A simple misunderstanding.”
“Yes. A misunderstanding,” Alice said, then grabbed her bag from the guard. “A misunderstanding that is now resolved, and we are free to go to the plane. The one with the vodka on it. Ladies?”
Without another word, Alice started off through the airport.
“I guess that’s our cue,” Sylvie said with a shrug.
We all grabbed our bags, and with one last look at the grumpy guards, we hurried away.
“Hey! I was right! Therewasa bar right where I thought it would be!” Alice shouted over her shoulder as her strides quickened toward the bar that was, as she’d predicted, right around the corner.
“Last call for flight 1862,” someone announced over the loudspeaker.
“Cripes! That’s us! We gotta board that plane! Hurry, ladies!” I sped up. “Let’s move! Gate C5!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!” Sylvie puffed behind me.
“Slow down, Marge!” Doris called.
“I’m not slowing down. You girls need to speed up! Knees to chest! Knees to chest! Hustle soldiers, hustle!”
When I caught up to Alice, she paused at the entry of the bar. Before she could say a word, I caught her by the back of the shirt and dragged her along with me. “Nope. No time.”
“What? I wasn’t going in. I was only looking. Let go of me!” she argued, her little feet hurrying to keep her moving so I wouldn’t drag her.
“Likely story. You’ll have to wait until we’re on the plane. Let’smove!”
I released my grip on her shirt when I felt certain she was committed to the goal of reaching our gate. We turned the last corner to our gate, the four of us puffing as we slammed to a stop in front of the door separating us from our plane.
“Tickets?” the woman holding the scanner asked.
