From Here to Paternity

we be talking about it here,“ Shelley said. A group of guests had taken a table near them. Near enough to overhear. “Let’s go back to the cabin. Maybe the walk in the cold air will clear our brains.“
    “There speaks desperation,“ Jane said. “But any-thing’s possible.“

Chapter 21

    Shelley, Jane, and Mel decided the best way to spend the rest of their Sunday in the mountains was anywhere but at the resort. The kids didn’t agree, but hadn’t any good alternative to suggest, so were forced to go along on an extended drive. Shelley and Paul had rented a huge, luxurious van and Paul had left it for their use. But Jane wouldn’t think of letting Shelley drive.
    “She’s my dearest friend in the world, Mel,“ Jane said, “but when she gets her hands on a steering wheel, she turns into a maniac. Something viciously competitive goes on in her brain and she turns into the Hitler of the Highway. Wants to own the whole of it from curb to curb. Please, if you value your sanity, don’t let her drive!“
    When they all had assembled in the parking lot, Mel said, “Shelley, this is your vacation and you ought to get to relax and look at the scenery. Let me do the driving, why don’t you?“
    Shelley looked at him. Then at Jane. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back, Jane.“
    “Not really. I didn’t say anything to Mel I haven’t said to you about your driving.“
    “I’ll bet you told him about that Army convoy.“
    “Not a word,“ Jane said, shivering at the recollection.
    “If a bunch of soldiers can’t cope with being passed on a tiny little hill—which I could see beyond perfectly well—without going to pieces and running up on the shoulder, I’d like to know what sort of help they’d be in a war!“ Shelley said indignantly.
    Mel drove.
    And they had a lovely day. They went back to I-70 and east to the turnoff to Golden. The scenery along the narrow mountain roads was breathtaking, and when they emerged onto a stretch of high plains, it was even more so. The world had never looked so vast, clean, and beautiful. Jane and Shelley firmly squashed Mike’s proposal that nobody should visit Golden without tasting a pitcher of Coors at its birthplace. They went on to Boulder, the quintessential red-roofed college town in the foothills, and Mike looked it over with the greedy eyes of a high school senior. Jane saw it through the eyes of a parent who might have to pay the out-of-state tuition and blanched.
    From Boulder they took a back road that led to a town called Nederland, where Shelley claimed there was a magnificent rock-and-jewelry shop. She was right, of course, and once again Jane was left to marvel at her friend’s uncanny ability to home in on superb shopping opportunities. Halfway across a continent, on unfamiliar ground, Shelley had managed to know, as if by instinct, about this small shop in a tiny town high in the mountains. It was amazing.
    Jane admired a necklace of polished red agate beads, which Mel insisted on buying for her. Jane put up only token resistance to his generosity. The necklace would look magnificent with her new outfit.
    They made it from Nederland to Estes Park, where they ate and spent several hours driving on some of the roads that were kept cleared in the winter. Finally it was three o’clock, and fearing a sudden sunset, which is how sunsets happen in the mountains, they headed back to the resort.
    Jane had discovered that her children, freed from their late father’s dictatorial concept of vacationing, made pretty good travelers, and she spent much of the return trip in quiet consideration of taking a family trip when school was out. Where to go? A resort in Wisconsin, perhaps? No, a trip to Williamsburg. She had been there as a child and loved it. There would be lots of things to interest all of them in Williamsburg. Of course, she’d have to let Mike do part of the driving. That thought brought her to the next, which was about vehicles. Her poor old station wagon would hardly make it beyond the suburbs of Chicago. There were days when she wondered if the station wagon was going to make it past the pothole at the end of the driveway.
    “What are you scowling about?“ Mel asked glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
    “Cars,“ she answered. “Cars and money. Are we almost there? I’m hungry again.“
    Mel had been driving and Shelley had taken over the other front seat as dictator/guide. Every time they’d piled out and back into