Buried In Buttercream

looking at Tammy with love-struck, beagle puppy eyes.
    She gave Dirk a questioning look. He gave her a little smile and a slight nod.
    “But who’s gonna keep this wild woman here out of trouble?” Savannah asked. “Tammy’s hell on wheels when she’s gamblin’ and drinkin’ and all those evil doin’s.”
    Tammy snickered. “Oh, come on. I don’t—”
    “Well, I don’t have time to walk around town with her on a leash,” Dirk said. “I’ve got a murder case to work.”
    Dirk and Savannah fixed Waycross with a pointed stare, which he didn’t even notice, because he was too busy watching Tammy giggle.
    Finally, when Savannah cleared her throat much too loudly, he looked up. “Oh!” He stammered, stuttered, and turned two shades redder than Tammy. “You mean? I? Oh! I’ll do it. That is, well, not the leash thing, but I’ll come along and keep an eye on her.”
    He reached over and placed his hand on Tammy’s shoulder. “If you want me to, that is. I know you don’t really need anybody to take care of you, ’cause you’re plenty smart enough to do that for yourself. But if you want some company—”
    “Sure! You bet!”
    More giggling. More goo-goo eyes. More blushing.
    It was almost more than Savannah could stand.
    “I’m going to go pack,” she said. “And while I’m at it, I’m gonna try to figure out how to tell my grandmother I’m going to a place where you can commit all seven of the deadly sins in seven minutes without even getting up outta your seat.”

    “How’d it go over with Granny, you telling her we were taking this trip?” Waycross asked.
    Savannah glanced in her rearview mirror at the tall good-looking kid in the backseat of her Mustang and wondered, not for the first time, if he was really her brother. He was the only redhead in a family of midnight brown brunettes. He was slim and trim when the rest of them were ... well ... not so slim and trim. He was as easygoing and peaceful of spirit as the rest were rowdy and cantankerous.
    Sometimes Savannah wondered if her mother had strayed from the straight and narrow on the night Waycross was conceived.
    And as soon as the thought went through her head, Savannah pushed it aside. It didn’t matter. She was just so grateful to have a brother like him ... no matter where he came from.
    “How do you figure it went over?” Savannah said. “You know Gran. It went over like a fart in church.”
    Dirk shifted in the passenger seat, making a show of how uncomfortable he was. It was the exact same type of seat as the driver’s, but he had to pout about something when she didn’t let him drive. “Doesn’t your grandmother know that we’re going to be too busy to do any of the stuff she’s worried we’ll do?” he said.
    “Oh, I don’t think she’s fretting about us getting arrested for public drunkenness or prostitution or raising a ruckus,” Savannah said, “but when it comes to stuff like this, she always says, ‘Flee even the appearance of evil.’”
    Dirk sniffed. “Heck, if I did that, I’d spend all my time fleeing from most of the people I know.”
    “Alma’s planning a day in Hollywood and Beverly Hills for everybody,” Tammy piped up from the backseat. “Once your granny gets to see Lucille Ball’s and Jack Benny’s old houses, she’ll be in a better mood.”
    “Don’t count on it,” Waycross said. “You’d be surprised how long Granny can hang on to a grudge.”
    Tammy rolled down her window, put her face half out, and took a deep breath. “Ah, I love the desert. It’s so clean and fresh and natural.”
    “Yeah, this is really cool!” Waycross agreed. “I’ve never seen the desert before. It’s awesome.”
    Savannah looked ahead at the straight, straight road stretching into infinity before them. And on either side, brown sand decorated with brown brush. Only the occasional Joshua tree broke the monotony.
    “Eh, maybe for rattlesnakes, jackrabbits, lizards, and rats,” she muttered, but not loud enough for them to hear her. No point in popping anybody’s bubble.
    “I like it because it reminds me of Bonanza ,” Dirk said wistfully, as he, too, rolled down his window and took a deep breath. “I can just see Hoss and Pa and Adam and Little Joe riding their horses across this very spot, rounding up cattle, shooting at bad guys.”
    “Dirk, you’re just too old to be that obsessed with a television show,” Savannah said.
    “I like it, so shoot me. What’s wrong with