Peaches

up with warm fuzzies for Birdie, who couldn’t fathom manipulating people the way Murphy had just tried to do.
    “She might be really sorry,” Birdie suggested.
    Murphy considered this. Maybe Rex and Leeda had talked about the kiss. Maybe they’d even broken up. If Leeda knew it wasn’t Murphy’s fault, she probably felt terrible. She would probably grovel. And Murphy would have to think about whether to take her back or not.
    “Do you think so?” Murphy asked, hating to sound so unsure and pathetic. She nibbled on a hangnail on her thumb.
    Birdie nodded.
    “Did she say that?”
    “She used our advice for the bachelorette party.”

    Yellowbaby clunked into the semicircular driveway of the Cawley-Smith house, where the crepe myrtle made a crimson soldier’s bridge over the road, dropping tiny fuchsia petals onto the windshield and on top of the car.
    “I’ll go get her.” Birdie went up to the door and disappeared inside while Murphy sat with a butterfly in her stomach and tried to look careless. Never, never, never would she let Leeda see her rattled. She was the last person who would ever see that.
    The door cracked open a few minutes later, but it wasn’t Birdie or Leeda who exited. Rex emerged from the door and walked up to the car. Panicked, Murphy looked in the rearview mirror. There was his car parked behind her, in the alcove in the bushes.
    Rex came up to the car and bent down to look through the passenger window. Murphy didn’t bother rolling down the window or leaning over to open the door. He looked at her sadly and gave her half a wave, pulling his hand out of his pocket only for a moment before he tucked it back in. Murphy looked down at the door handle, then gently waved back and let herself meet his eyes for a moment. Looking at him through the glass felt like being an animal in the zoo. Murphy would probably be a python.
    Rex looked thoughtfully at her for another moment, and then he stood and walked toward his car.
    A few minutes later Leeda and Birdie emerged carrying enough luggage to fill two Yellowbabies.
    “Hey, Murphy,” Leeda said coolly, opening the door.
    “Hey.”
    “Where am I supposed to sit?” The question was clearly directed at Birdie.
    Murphy rolled her eyes.
    It was going to be that kind of trip.

    “No matter how many times you press that button, the AC is not going to work.”
    “Oh.” Leeda pulled her manicured finger away from the snowflake-marked button below the radio, then fiddled with the tweezers that stuck out of the tape deck. “We should have taken the Beemer.”
    Murphy’s shoulders, which Birdie had a great view of from the backseat, stiffened so visibly she looked like a football player. Birdie could feel the negative energy oozing from the front of the car. She sighed and leaned closer to the open window,feeling the breeze on her face. They had crossed the border into Mississippi about an hour ago, and the air had gotten both thicker and smellier.
    “It smells like bayou,” she said, hoping to spark a conversation. “I bet there’s alligators.”
    Both Murphy and Leeda were silent.
    “Have you guys been counting the armadillos?”
    “No, Birdie. How many have you seen?”
    “Twenty-three. All dead.”
    Silence.
    “It’s so mysterious. I never see live ones on the highway. It’s like they arrive from the woods already dead.” Birdie knew it was a stupid thing to say, but she was desperate.
    “Maybe the noxious fumes from Yellowbaby are poisoning them before we can get to them,” Leeda offered.
    “Ha. Maybe,” Murphy said, very pissed off.
    Birdie turned her focus back to the dusk rushing up on the car outside and the sound of the swamp bugs hitting the windshield. She had the surreal feeling that she wasn’t here at all. Not in this car with Murphy and Leeda. Definitely not on her way to go see Enrico. She doubted that was going to sink in until she actually saw him. And then she would freak out.
    The thing was, once she stood in front of Enrico, there was no going back. It wasn’t like at the orchard, where she could make some excuse for bumping into him. This was what she needed. A no-escape clause. She only wished she could have brought Honey Babe and Majestic. The silence in the car was oppressive and it made Birdie feel lost and sad. She leaned between the two girls, determined to change this.
    “I hear iguanas love it when people pet them. Can you believe it?”
    Neither girl even bothered to answer.
    “Well, wake me