Not So Peachy Day

by Wendy Meadows

  Sam bit down on his lip. “Rosa, we can rent you an apartment if you'd like,” he said in a hesitant voice. “I mean, I know a young woman your age likes to have privacy and all...so living with an old guy like me might not be what you're searching for.”

  Rosa studied Sam's eyes and saw a warmth and love that comforted her troubled heart. “I don't want to live alone,” she confessed. “I've been to your farmhouse, Sam. You invited me and my grandparents over for dinner three times already and every time we visit it’s felt so cozy. My grandparents really like you, and your farmhouse...and so do I. I think your farmhouse is absolutely wonderful.”

  “You do?” Sam asked.

  Rosa nodded her head. “Yes,” she smiled. “It's big and roomy, it always feels like home. I...would like to live there with you and Ellie, if that's okay with Momma Peach.”

  Sam smiled from ear to ear. He turned in his seat and looked at Momma Peach. “Momma Peach?” he asked.

  Momma Peach reached across the table and patted Rosa's hand. “We need to get you a car. It's too far to walk to school from Sam's place. And I am pretty sure your grandparents are going to need their vehicle.”

  “Hey, that's right,” Sam snapped his fingers. He felt like a dad preparing to teach his daughter how to drive for the first time. “We can go right after lunch and I’ll let you pick out any vehicle you'd like.”

  Rosa could barely believe her ears. “Uh...I have my bike,” she told Sam. “I can ride my bike to school.”

  Sam waved his right hand in the air and dismissed the idea of Rosa riding her bike to school. “And let you get all dusty and sweaty every day so you can barely think straight? Not a chance. Right after lunch we're going to buy you a brand new car,” he insisted. “Because you deserve it, honey. And—” Sam suddenly stopped talking. His face grew thoughtful and then exploded with a smile.

  “Mr. Sam?” Momma Peach asked. “Did you just get hit with a gas bubble or what?”

  Sam shook his head no. “No gas, Momma Peach,” he confessed and swung around in his seat. “Momma Peach, did I tell you? I found the island I told you about. And I was right, the island has really grown into a place for the rich and spoiled.” Sam glanced at Rosa and then focused back on Momma Peach. “Why don't we take Rosa on vacation with us, Momma Peach?” he asked in an excited voice. “She can get her mind off of her grandparents having to leave town. All three of us can escape for a whole week.”

  Momma Peach examined Sam's eyes. The poor man was so desperate for her to say yes. “Okay, Mr. Sam,” she smiled and patted Sam's face, “Me and Rosa will go get sand between our toes with you.”

  Rosa looked confused. “Vacation?” she asked. “Momma Peach, I don't have enough money to—”

  Sam spun back around in his seat and raised his hand up in the air. “Don't worry about money, Rosa. This vacation is on your friend Sam. All I need you and Momma Peach to do is go pack as soon as we finish lunch. We'll get you a car when we get back.”

  Rosa lowered her head. “My grandparents are leaving for Mexico tomorrow,” she confessed in a sad voice. “They didn't give me much time to make up my mind. It wasn't their fault, really. My grandmother's sister is ill and she wants to see my grandmother. Also,” Rosa added, keeping her head bowed, “both of my grandparents are getting older and they want to be near their family and friends in Mexico. I guess I can't blame them.”

  Sam nodded his head. “When you grow old, Rosa, it's important to be in a place that feels like home. I always got the feeling your grandparents never felt at home in this town. Your grandmother always talked about Mexico when she came over for dinner. Like it was her home, and this was just a stopping place. It was clear to me that she missed her home town.”

  “Me too,” Momma Peach added. “Rosa, we'll go talk with your grandparents after lunch and explain to them that you're going to stay and live with Sam.”

  Rosa raised her head with tears of happiness swimming in her wide, beautiful eyes. “Thank you, Momma Peach,” she said and looked at Sam. “And thank you, Sam.”

  “Don't thank me until we're walking on a warm, sunny beach,” Sam smiled back at Rosa. He picked up his sweet tea and took a sip. “To be honest,” he explained, “my mind is begging for a vacation. No offense, Momma Peach, being part of your family has really taken its toll on me. I've seen more fireworks with you in the last year than I did living in my town. And I lived in my town a good many years, too.”

  “No offense taken,” Momma Peach assured Sam. “I was mighty tired up there in Vermont and I wasn't sure I could deal with more rats crawling out their holes. But when I am challenged to a fight, I never back down.”

  “No, you don't,” Sam agreed. He sure did admire Momma Peach. The woman was a soft teddy bear one moment and a raging grizzly bear the next. “I have to admit, Momma Peach, that I wasn’t exactly operating at full steam in Vermont, either. I didn't realize that until we got back home and I had time to think about the events we went through and how we handled them.”

  Rosa listened to Momma Peach and Sam talk about the case they tackled in Vermont with curious ears. “You two are so lucky,” she said. “Nothing exciting ever happens around here. Well, there was that one time when that crazy guy at the bank threatened everyone and we had to leave town,” Rosa explained. “But Momma Peach sure cleaned his clock.”

  “Baby, a lot of crazy stuff does happen in our little town,” Momma Peach warned Rosa. “I am just grateful my girls never become involved.” Momma Peach thought of the old clown that stabbed her. “I have dealt with some real twisted minds, and the last thing I want is for anyone I love to become trapped in a scary funhouse filled with screams, no sir and no, ma’am.”

  “Oh, Momma Peach,” Rosa said, “everyone in town knows you're the best detective this side of the Mississippi. You've solved more cases than I can count.” Rosa’s eyes became dreamy. “I can't imagine the adventures you've been on, the bad guys you've fought, the people you've helped.”

  Sam glanced at Momma Peach. Momma Peach sighed. “I ain't no Nancy Drew,” she told Rosa. “The cases I’ve helped Michelle with were filled with danger and confusion...all sorts of ugly little critters that bite real hard.” Momma Peach dared to take a drink of her tea. “And let me be completely honest: I solve mysteries by the grace of the good Lord and nothing else.”

  “That's right,” Sam added. “Rosa, books and television make criminal cases seem romantic. The hero has everything figured out, knows exactly who the bad guy is, and knows exactly how to win. But in reality, you're always playing it by ear and hoping for the best. Most of your thinking is based on assumptions instead of facts and, well, you throw your line out into the water and see what you get.”

  “Sometimes you catch a snake,” Momma Peach told Rosa and then pointed at her soft, grandmotherly arms. “These arms ain't meant for fighting. Now our girl Michelle,” Momma Peach whistled, “that woman has saved my backside more times than I can remember. Michelle fights the bad guys with her Kung Fu arms and legs...goodness does she.”

  Sam folded his arms and nodded his head. “Michelle is a trained fighter and she's come up against some pretty rough characters,” he told Rosa.

  Momma Peach thought of Lindsey Sung. “And some of the bad guys she’s fought...they fight back real hard.”

  “What we're trying to imply, Rosa,” Sam finished, “is that solving crime cases is a dangerous business and there's nothing romantic about it. There's...dead bodies...bad guys...and a whole lot of danger that I'm happy to be away from.”

  “Me, too,” Momma Peach agreed. “I hope we’ve seen the last of the bad people for a while, give me strength, give me strength.” Momma Peach took another drink of sweet tea without realizing it. When she realized her mistake, she cried out: “Oh, I done went and poisoned myself.” Mrs. Edwards threw her hands at Momma Peach from across the room and made a sour face. “Oh, go throw your wrinkled old hands at Poison Control, you old scarecrow,” Momma Peach fussed.

  Sam
and Rosa smiled at each other. “Well,” Sam said and grabbed his rain jacket, “I think I'm going to have Mrs. Edwards make my order to go. I need to get back to the farmhouse and call a travel agent and get our trip organized.” Sam stood up and looked down at Momma Peach. “I'll drop by the bakery before you close, okay?”

  Momma Peach smiled. How could she ruin Sam's excitement? “Okay, I will be there.”

  “And so will I,” Rosa promised.

  Sam smiled and hurried up to the cash register, asked Mrs. Edwards to make his order to go, and rushed out into the rain when she brought out his food in a brown paper bag. “There he goes,” Momma Peach sighed.

  “Momma Peach?” Rosa asked.

  “Huh?” Momma Peach looked at Rosa.

  “You...don't seem excited to be going on vacation,” Rosa pointed out.

  “Oh, I’m just tired, that's all,” Momma Peach told Rosa. “Mr. Sam means well, and I sure know that man has a heart of gold, but truthfully…I just want to stay home.”

  “Why didn't you tell Sam that?”

  “Because,” Momma Peach smiled, “even though I am a tired soul, I understand that when someone cares for you, you need to catch a second wind and show them your appreciation. Besides, maybe resting on a warm sunny beach is just what I need.”

  Rosa smiled. “It does sound fun, doesn't it? I've been to a few beaches in Mexico, but this island Sam is talking about seems really cool.”

  Momma Peach saw excitement glitter in Rosa's sweet eyes. “How are you ever going to handle living in Georgia without your grandparents? Lots of phone calls, I imagine? You three are very close.”

  Rosa nibbled on her cheeseburger and then looked at Momma Peach's untouched plate of fried chicken and green beans. “I'm going to miss them,” she confessed, “but I know my grandparents will be happier in Mexico than if they stayed here. But...well, this town is my home. Georgia is my home, Momma Peach, it’s the only one I’ve ever known. I would feel uncomfortable living in Mexico. I like to visit, and it's very beautiful, but...well, Mexico isn't my home. Besides, I can always go and visit my grandparents anytime I want.”

  Momma Peach smiled. “Yes, you can,” she promised. “Anytime you want.”

  Rosa smiled back. “I'll be happier here knowing my grandparents are happy,” she promised Momma Peach. “Now that I've had time to catch my breath I think everything is going to turn out for the best. I'm sorry for being so upset earlier and crying about it like a little girl.”

  “Nonsense,” Momma Peach told Rosa and, trying not to notice the scrumptious chicken leg on her plate, “you were splashed with shocking news.” Momma Peach looked up at Rosa. “Now, listen to me, we might as well gag this terrible food down and get moving. We have to visit your grandparents and then send you out to do a little shopping.” Momma Peach reached down into her pocketbook and pulled out her bank card and slid it across the table. “My girl is going to need to buy her some vacation clothes and sunscreen. You’re going to show everyone on that beach what the prettiest girl from Georgia looks like when she’s out to have a good time.”

  “Momma Peach, I—”

  “You'll do what I tell you to do,” Momma Peach said and then squeezed Rosa's hands with love. “Take me to the bank, and make that bank card smoke.” And with those words, Momma Peach decided to eat her lunch. Of course, she complained over every single bite and swore she would need a stomach pump afterward. But somehow, to everyone's amazement, she managed to leave the diner without being rolled out to an ambulance on a stretcher. “Good thing I have a bottle of Pepto Bismol in my pocketbook,” she told Rosa and opened a bright green umbrella and walked off down the wet sidewalk. Rosa grinned to herself and hurried along beside Momma Peach.

  Life sure was interesting when Momma Peach was around.

  Chapter Two

  “Delayed,” Sam fussed and plopped down in a brown wooden chair that was connected to a long row of identical chairs in front of a large window overlooking the long, rain-drenched runways outside the airport. He pulled off his cowboy hat and tossed it into his lap. “Rain is turning into ice,” he explained in a frustrated tone.

  Momma Peach reached over and patted Sam's hand. “It's okay,” she promised. “I am sure we'll be flying like birds before you know it.”

  Rosa was not so sure. According to all the angry and upset faces visible in the terminal, she was pretty certain no one believed they’d be flying anytime soon. “Well, we did make it to this airport,” she told Sam, struggling to sound optimistic. “It could be worse. We could be stranded in a larger airport.” Sam grumbled and stalked off to talk to one of the gate agents, hoping for more information.

  “That's right,” Momma Peach agreed. She reached over to Rosa and pushed her bangs away from her eyes. “This here airport is a quarter the size of the airport down there in Atlanta, which means we don't have large crowds to fight our way through.”

  “And,” Rosa pointed out, “this airport isn’t completely in the middle of nowhere. It’s located on the outskirts of a town called Mableville. I checked with the security guard and he told me Mableville has a couple of hotels and some good places to eat. So even if we do get stranded, we'll be okay.”

  Sam returned with a glum look. He sighed and slumped down in a chair. “It’s more than a delay—it’s a cancelled flight now. They can’t rebook anyone just yet, so I called the Greenview Inn and reserved us two rooms,” he said and folded his arms. “Weather report is predicting ice pellets throughout the night and then heavy snow tomorrow.”

  “Well, it is winter,” Momma Peach attempted to comfort Sam. “And this is Tennessee. It's not like we're in Florida.”

  Sam shook his head. “Atlanta to Denver...Denver to Los Angeles...Los Angeles to Sydney...Sydney to our tropical island...easy as pie. But this winter weather is making it impossible to get out of the south, let alone make it across the country.” Sam looked at Momma Peach and then at Rosa. “I sound like a grumpy old man, don't I?” he asked and then laughed at himself. “I guess I do.”

  Rosa put on a pink coat over the dark blue dress she was wearing. “Sam, you sound like a man who is frustrated with the weather,” she smiled.

  Momma Peach stood up and put on her red coat. “I sure hope there are no bulls in this here airport,” she teased Sam and winked at him. “Let's go to our hotel, get checked in, and go find some food in Mableville.”

  “Sure,” Sam said and stood up. He popped on his cowboy hat, picked up a green duffel bag, and walked Momma Peach and Rosa through the small but crowded airport. “Gonna be cold outside,” he said, spotting the front entrance.

  “Sure is,” Momma Peach said, carrying a brown suitcase. She prepared herself to step out into an icy wind dancing with freezing rain. “I usually like the cold, but I got enough of winter in Vermont.”

  Rosa checked the gray suitcase she was pulling behind her and wondered if being stylish was more important than being warm. The coat she was wearing was warm, but not built to battle harsh, frigid conditions. “I hope we can get a cab soon,” she said in a worried voice. “I don't want to stand outside too long.”

  “A cab is better than the smelly SUV we rented to drive to Vermont in,” Momma Peach chuckled. Her chuckle quickly turned into a groan as she walked through the main entrance and stepped outside. A vicious, cold wind immediately ripped at her face with harsh fingers. “My goodness,” Momma Peach cried and tucked her head away from the wind.

  “Yes sir,” Sam said in a painful voice and worked his way around a crowd of stranded business people standing around in light trench coats that were obviously useless against the cold. Sam heard a man say in an angry voice: “I better be compensated for this delay!” He heard a woman gripe in reply, “I worked weeks on my report and now I'm going to miss the meeting.”

  Rosa walked past the group of frozen suits and carefully studied the faces. Their clothing was expensive, but their faces were haughty. “I could never be one of them,” she whispered.

  Mo
mma Peach heard Rosa. She turned around and pointed a stern finger in the air. “And don't you ever try to be,” she told Rosa. “The good Lord created Rosa to be who Rosa is meant to be. Understand?”

  Rosa nodded. “Yes, Momma Peach.”

  Sam spotted a yellow cab sitting on the curb behind a gray and red airport shuttle van. He threw his left hand up in the air. “Hey, taxi!”

  “Come on,” Momma Peach urged Rosa and hurried her short little legs over to the taxi. An old man smoking a cigar climbed out of the driver's seat, his thick gray coat bundled around him. He walked to the trunk of the car to help with their luggage and focused on Sam. “Where to?” he asked and opened the trunk.

  “The Greenview Inn,” Sam told the old man and quickly loaded the luggage into the trunk.

  The old man studied the gray day. He focused on the freezing rain falling all around him. “Roads are a mess,” he warned Sam. “Mills Bridge has already been closed down. It's going to be slow going. But I tell you what. I'll charge you a flat rate of say...thirty dollars. Sound fair?”

  “How about a hundred if you get us to the hotel in one piece,” Sam told the old man and hurried Momma Peach and Rosa into the back seat and then jumped into the front passenger seat.

  “Ah, warmth,” Momma Peach exclaimed and raised her hands over the front seat and aimed them at the vents. “Momma Peach don't like being a popsicle, Mr. Sam. And I sure don't like that I forgot my gloves, either.”

  Sam warmed his hands. “We'll get you a pair of gloves, Momma Peach,” he promised.

  The old man situated himself back in the driver's seat and ordered Momma Peach to sit back and buckle up, and then cautiously put the engine in drive and eased away from the front curb. “Hear that?” he told Sam. “Rain is already turning into ice. It'll be snow before dark. A hard storm is pushing down from the north and is expected to bring heavy snow as far south as Macon, Georgia. Up to three feet is being predicted for this area.”