Not So Peachy Day Read online

  Sam let the phone ring ten times and then hung up. “Momma Peach didn't answer,” he said in a worried voice. “I'm going down to check on her. You keep your camera pointed right at Coplin, okay, Ralph?”

  “You got it, Sam,” Ralph said, watching Vern approach Andy. “I'm catching every move Coplin is making. Hopefully, he'll do exactly what Momma Peach thinks he's going to do and we catch it on camera.”

  “Let's hope,” Sam said and trudged over to a door on the roof. He pulled the door open and descended down a flight of metal stairs that ended in the kitchen. He spotted Martha and Beth standing in the dark kitchen, lit only by the light of a single gas ring burning. “Where is Momma Peach?” he asked in a worried voice.

  “She went into the other room,” Martha told Sam. “Is anything the matter?”

  “Momma Peach didn't answer my call just now. Coplin is right outside the back door,” Sam explained and ran into the dining room. “Momma Peach?” he called out. “Momma Peach, where are you?”

  “Oh, give me strength…Mr. Sam! In here,” Momma Peach's voice floated into the dining room and reached Sam's ears.

  “Bathroom,” Sam said and ran to the back of the dining room and cut down a small hallway. “Good grief,” Sam said. “Momma Peach?” He eased into the ladies’ room.

  “Mr. Sam!” Momma Peach yelled. “I had…an emergency…and no toilet paper!”

  Sam put his hand over his mouth—and his nose—and fought back laughter. “You picked a good time to get trapped in the ladies’ room, Momma Peach. Coplin is right outside.”

  “I don't need a lecture, Mr. Sam, I need a roll of toilet paper to wipe my tush with. Now get me some or our whole plan is doomed,” Momma Peach begged.

  Sam found an extra roll on the wash counter by Momma Peach’s coat and yelled, “Incoming,” and tossed the roll of toilet paper over the top of the stall.

  Momma Peach caught the toilet paper with a sigh of relief. “Oh Mr. Sam, you're a hero. Now get out and let me have my privacy!”

  “You got it,” Sam said and ran back out into the hallway.

  Momma Peach quickly cleaned up and hurried her short little legs out into the hallway. “Thank you, Sam,” she said and hugged him so tight he nearly lost consciousness.

  “Momma Peach, can't...breathe...can't breathe...” Sam said with his face turning red above the squeeze of Momma Peach's arms and chest. “Can't...breathe...”

  “Oh,” Momma Peach said and let go of Sam. “Sorry, baby.”

  Sam took a few deep breaths of air. “Love hurts sometimes,” he said. “Come on, we better hustle back to the kitchen.”

  “I can’t believe my perfect plan was messed up by an explosion of—uh, Tabasco,” Momma Peach moaned and hurried back into the kitchen with Sam. Sam pointed to the stairs. “Okay, hurry,” Momma Peach begged.

  Sam ran back up to the roof, found Ralph, and hunkered down. Ralph held up the security screen he was holding and let Sam see. Sam studied the screen. It appeared that Coplin was talking with Andy. He looked at Ralph and saw the man was now wearing a pair of headphones. “You're hearing the conversation?” he asked. Ralph nodded his head yes. “What are they saying?”

  “Andy Pracks is telling Coplin all about Momma Peach...and about Timmy. He's demanding Coplin go across the street to the inn and grab the boy,” Ralph said in a worried voice.

  “Not good,” Sam said and went for his cell phone. But before he could reach it, Ralph yanked off his headphones. “Coplin is about to shoot...” he began to say but was interrupted by the sound of three bullets firing. Sam threw his eyes down onto the security screen Ralph was holding and watched Andy Pracks crumple down onto the snow.

  Coplin took off and ran around the side of the truck stop just as the back door opened and hot, scalding water laced with cayenne pepper was thrown out. “No!” Sam yelled and exploded back down the stairs into the kitchen. “Coplin is going for Timmy!” he yelled at Momma Peach.

  Momma Peach threw down the pot she was holding. The pot crashed down onto the kitchen floor with a loud bang. “Mr. Sam—”

  “No time!” Sam yelled and grabbed Momma Peach by her arm and yanked her outside into the storm and started running across the road through the snow drifts. He spotted Coplin enter through the front door. “He's inside already!”

  “Oh, my babies,” Momma Peach cried. “Momma Peach's plan—”

  “Andy Pracks told Coplin to snatch Timmy, Momma Peach. Your plan was a good one, but sometimes a snake can bite even when it's wounded,” Sam yelled over the howling winds as he raced across the street.

  Momma Peach felt tears sting her eyes. She didn't count on Andy Pracks mentioning Timmy to Coplin. She assumed the snake would beg for his life. “I made a horrible mistake.”

  “No, you didn't,” Sam told Momma Peach, working his way through knee-deep snow. “Momma Peach, we'll win this war yet, you wait and see.”

  Momma Peach wiped at her tears as she forced her short legs to move through the snow. When she finally reached the front lobby door she heard three gunshots explode from inside. “No!” she cried and ripped the front door open and ran inside. John was waiting for her.

  “It's okay, Momma Peach,” John said and lowered his gun. “The man is dead.”

  Momma Peach slid to a stop inches away from the dead body of Vern Coplin. Vern was lying on his back dressed in a black military-style assault suit that now had three holes in the chest area. Momma Peach burst out into tears, ran past the body, and wrapped her arms around John. “Oh, my hero!” Momma Peach cried.

  John began fighting for air as she clung to him and sobbed in relief. “Momma Peach...I can't breathe...”

  “Who cares,” Momma Peach cried and hugged John even tighter.

  Sam walked up to John and patted him on the shoulder. “Well done, soldier.”

  John lifted up his right hand and made a thumbs up. Sam smiled and walked into John's apartment, made his way back to the bedroom where Rosa and Timmy were sleeping and checked on them. Rosa was cuddled up next to Timmy, safe and warm, sound asleep. “Sleep, babies,” Sam said and sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the comforter up to Rosa's chin again.

  Momma Peach appeared in the doorway, hurried over to the bed, bent down, kissed Rosa on her forehead and then kissed Timmy. “My sweet babies,” she cried in a soft voice.

  Rosa stirred. “Momma Peach?” she asked in a sleepy voice. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is perfect,” Momma Peach told Rosa and wiped her tears away. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

  Rosa closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Sam smiled and gently pulled Momma Peach out into the hallway and closed the door. “Momma Peach, you can't hate yourself, you hear me? We both agreed to use Andy Pracks as bait, assuming the man would beg Coplin for his life.”

  “Oh, but I was stupid to think that snake would do as I ordered him,” Momma Peach fussed at herself. “But,” she said, relieved that her babies were safe and sound after all, “sometimes even Momma Peach needs a little help.”

  John wheeled himself down the hallway. “I called the sheriff. He ordered me to stay put and said he'd get here whenever he could,” John explained. “I guess there's no rush.”

  “No rush at all, Mr. John,” Momma Peach agreed and looked at the heroic man in the wheelchair before her. “Heroes come in all forms, Mr. John, and you're one of the greatest heroes I know.” Momma Peach bent down and kissed John on his cheek.

  John smiled and kissed Momma Peach right back. “Let's go get us a cup of coffee and some donuts,” he said. “Sam, if you don't mind, drag the body outside into the snow.”

  “Gladly,” Sam said and stretched his back, “and then I'm going to get me some sleep...a hot shower first...and then sleep.”

  “Baby,” Momma Peach said and took Sam's hand, “we can't sleep yet. We have to get ourselves back across the street and tell Martha and Mr. Ralph that everything is okay.”

  Sam let out a moan and looked down at his sno
w-caked boots. “Sure, fine, why not,” he said and let his head drop. “Old Sam might as well catch pneumonia while he's at it.”

  Momma Peach chuckled to herself. “Next time, let me choose where we go on vacation.”

  Sam lifted his head and looked into Momma Peach's eyes. “You bet,” he said. “John, we'll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Drag the body out the door with you,” John told Sam and winked at Momma Peach. Momma Peach winked right back. Outside, the storm continued to rage, but somehow that didn't matter anymore because the battle was over.

  Momma Peach dug her toes down into the warmest, whitest sand she had ever seen in her life. “Ah,” she said and leaned back in a bright blue beach chair wearing a one-piece pink bathing suit, a straw sun hat, a pair of sunglasses and a smile. The bathing suit might make her look like an overgrown pink flamingo, but Momma Peach didn't care. The ocean was clear and blue, the waves soft and gentle, and the sky bright and warm. Who cared? “Mr. Sam, this is just what the doctor ordered,” she smiled.

  Sam folded his arms back behind his head and watched Timmy and Rosa playing in the gentle waves. “Sure is nice,” he said and pulled his cowboy hat down and closed his eyes. “Nice day to take a long nap.”

  Momma Peach looked over at Sam and chuckled at the bright yellow and blue button-up shirt he was wearing over a pair of baggy tropical-print swim trunks. “Mr. Sam, you look a bit like a deranged tourist.”

  “At least I ain’t dressed like a pink flamingo,” Sam grinned.

  “You’re about to be dressed like shark food if you don’t watch your mouth,” Momma Peach promised and focused her eyes on Timmy and Rosa. Rosa was splashing water at Timmy. “Well, Mr. Sam, I am so glad the custody process worked out so well. I have custody of my sweet Timothy. The adoption process is going to take a little time, but we have time.”

  “Yep,” Sam said in a sleepy voice. “Momma Peach, we have all the time in the world.”

  Momma Peach smiled and took Sam's hand. “Mr. Sam?”

  “Yes?” Sam asked.

  “I know you want to move to Alaska when Mr. Nate decides to sell his lodge to you...and I love the lodge and think Alaska is mighty beautiful...but I don't want you to leave. Oh, I know I can come and spend time at the lodge...but...I’ll always want you at home where you belong.”

  Sam raised his cowboy hat and studied Momma Peach's face. “You mean that, don't you?” he asked.

  Momma Peach nodded her head. “Look at those babies, Mr. Sam.” Sam looked at Rosa and Timmy. “They are gonna need all the love they can get. Rosa isn't admitting it, but she's sad that her grandparents moved back to Mexico. She needs a good, upstanding father figure. And Timmy, that precious baby, is a lost child who needs more love than I can give.”

  “Your love is all that boy needs,” Sam corrected Momma Peach.

  Momma Peach watched Timmy run up onto the beach, wave at her, and then begin building a sandcastle with Rosa. “I know love is all anyone needs, and that's why I know that if you left...a big hole would form in the hearts of a whole lot of people.”

  “I'm just an old desert hound, Momma Peach. I'm nothing special.”

  “That's a lie,” Momma Peach told Sam. “You're a good man, Mr. Sam, and I don't say those words to too many of the male species.”

  Sam didn't know what to say. “Momma Peach, I...” he began to speak but stopped and let his eyes rest on Timmy and Rosa. He watched them build a sandcastle and then begin throwing sand at each other. Rosa let out a loud shriek of laughter and ran back to the ocean with Timmy on her heels. Then he thought about the lodge he wanted to buy in Alaska. He saw himself alone, renting out his rooms to a few hunters who would come and go with the wind. He saw the long stretches of quiet when no one would come to the lodge at all. What he didn't see was Momma Peach, Rosa, Timmy, Michelle, Mandy, Able, Millie and even Old Joe. What he didn't see was Momma Peach in her kitchen baking her famous peach pies or fussing over the food at the diner. What he didn't see was Timmy and Rosa playing together. What he didn't see was Michelle sipping coffee and laughing at Momma Peach when her ornery Aunt Rachel called. What he didn't see was...family. It made him think long and hard.

  After a moment, Sam turned to Momma Peach with a thoughtful look. “I spent a lot of time alone in my desert, Momma Peach. I trained myself to not miss the world because I never got to see much of it.”

  “But the world is right in front of you, Mr. Sam,” Momma Peach said and squeezed Sam's hand. “Look over there.”

  Sam turned his head and saw Michelle pushing John down a wooden ramp with Able at her side. Michelle had a peaceful smile on her face. He smiled, remembering that Michelle had not looked so peaceful when she had found them in Tennessee after the snow storm ended not too long ago. “It didn't take long for Michelle to get to Mableville, did it? She arrived before the storm ended.”

  “And filled my ear but good,” Momma Peach chuckled. “I am no longer allowed to go anywhere without Detective Michelle Chan at my side...and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

  Sam watched Michelle wheel John over. He smiled at her beauty but smiled even more at the black leather jacket she was wearing over a black one-piece swimsuit. “Aren't you hot?” he asked Michelle.

  “No,” Michelle said and touched the straw sun hat she wore over her black hair. “This hat keeps me cool,” she told Sam. “Momma Peach, there's a call waiting for you up at the soda counter. The man said it was really important.”

  “Oh?” Momma Peach asked. “Okay,” she said and stood up. “Mr. Sam—”

  “Momma Peach,” Sam interrupted Momma Peach with a smile, “maybe Old Sam will put buying Nate's lodge on hold right now. I think I'll stick around. I’d like to see Timmy turn eighteen.”

  Tears began dropping from Momma Peach's eyes. She leaned down and kissed Sam on his nose. “Who else will bring me my toilet paper?”

  “Toilet paper?” Able asked with sunscreen spread all over his nose. The poor young man was wearing a red button-up shirt, blue shorts, black socks and sandals that made him look as old as a Florida retiree.

  “An inside joke,” Sam laughed. He looked at Able and shook his head. “Good to see you, son.”

  “I know, I know,” Michelle told Sam, “but he's mine.”

  Momma Peach took off her sun hat and clamped it down on Able's head. “Here, baby, take a load off,” she said and chuckled at John. John was sitting in his wheelchair with a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at, old man?” she asked.

  John pointed at Timmy and Rosa. “Those two,” John told Momma Peach. “Thanks for inviting me along,” he said. “I guess I was in need of a vacation. After being drilled by the sheriff and the FBI, I felt like my brain was going to melt. I'm just glad this beautiful young woman showed up when she did and helped me deal with the law.”

  “I was happy to help,” Michelle told John. “Even if you're innocent, the FBI has a bad tendency to treat you like you're guilty.”

  “Jerks,” Able said. “John is an honorably discharged veteran and the FBI treated him like he was a criminal.”

  “The FBI treated us all like criminals,” Sam pointed out. “The bodies of four men who are now causing a whole lot of people some serious problems got tossed into their laps. The FBI doesn't like us civilians taking the law into our own hands and causing them headaches.”

  “Exactly,” Michelle said and sat down in a yellow sun chair. She patted a red chair. “Sit down, honey.” Able sat down next to Michelle and began rubbing more sunscreen on his nose. Momma Peach shook her head at him. “What's important is that you managed to save a town from some very corrupt people and I'm very proud of you. But next time...call me,” Michelle begged.

  “Baby,” Momma Peach, “I don't want there to be a next time.”

  “There's always a next time,” Michelle sighed. “Momma Peach, you better go answer your call.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Momma Peach said and got moving across the warm sand to the snack bar. She hea
rd Sam ask Michelle how someone so short could move so fast. “I heard that, Mr. Sam...no peach pie for you!” she yelled over her shoulder and exited the beach. “Now who could be calling me?” she asked.

  Momma Peach walked up to a refreshment hut covered with straw. A man who looked like a local was leaning on a bamboo counter drinking a cold soda. “Momma Peach?” he asked.

  “That's me,” Momma Peach said and cast a flirty wink. The man grinned and tipped Momma Peach a wink back. “My baby said I had a phone call?”

  “Right here,” the man said and handed Momma Peach a phone shaped like a coconut.

  Momma Peach chuckled and took the phone. “Get me a peach soda, will you please?” she said to the man and put the phone to her ear. “Momma Peach speaking.”

  “Pauline?” Aunt Rachel asked in an angry voice. “Girl, where have you been? You missed our bridge game last night.”

  “Oh no,” Momma Peach let out a loud sigh. “How did she find me here…No, Aunt Rachel, this isn’t Pauline. How did you even get this number?”

  Aunt Rachel grinned to herself as she flipped through the channels on her television. She was sure bored and needed entertainment. “Pauline, why did you miss our game night, girl? You know Frank wanted to sit next to you.”

  “I'm not Pauline,” Momma Peach cried. “I'm Caroline, your niece!”

  “Did you say you moved to North Carolina, Pauline? You know Frank is going to be upset that you moved away without telling him,” Aunt Rachel chided.

  “I'm not Pauline!” Momma Peach yelled. The man at the front counter eased away from Momma Peach like a man trying to escape a bomb before it exploded. “Aunt Rachel, this is Caroline...your niece...please...”

  “Pauline, you don't have a niece. Why, you never even married. Shame on you,” Aunt Rachel said and found herself a rerun to watch.

  “Who is Pauline, anyway?” Momma Peach cried and knocked the phone into her head in frustration. “How did you even know where I was...” Momma Peach stopped talking and looked down at the beach. “Oh, I am going to get you,” she said and gritted her teeth.