Blood Games

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‘Where are we going?’ Finley asked. ‘To grandmother’s house?’

Helen, behind the steering wheel of the rented Wagoneer, grinned over her shoulder and sang, ‘Over the river and through the woods…’

‘Hoping we’ll run into the Big Bad Wolf?’ Abilene said.

‘Finley’d like that,’ Cora said from the front seat.

‘Gimme a break. I’ve sworn off guys.’

‘Since when?’ Abilene asked.

‘Since last summer and surfin’ Sam, or whatever his name was.’

‘You don’t even remember his name?’ Helen asked.

‘He was just another hunk to the Fin-man,’ Abilene said.

Finley jammed an elbow into her side. ‘Rick. His name was Rick. But I’ve reformed. I promise to be a good girl.’

‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ Cora said.

‘Where we’re going,’ Helen explained, ‘I don’t imagine we’ll be running into any fellas.’

‘I sure hope this isn’t a camping trip,’ Vivian said.

‘What’ve you got against fresh air?’ Cora asked.

‘Fresh air’s fine. But I can get it without flying three thousand miles.’