I settled down into the couch a little deeper, making sure there was room next to me for Dave, if and when he came to join us. I scooted closer to Grandma, and the smell of Bengay got slightly stronger.
But as I got comfy, I felt something poking into me from underneath. I scooted my tush side to side—there was definitely something there. Something large and hard. Thinking it had to be another remote, I took my feet from the ottoman and crouched down next to the sofa. I stuck my hand under my seat cushion, where I found…a cue ball.
I looked at Grandma, and Grandma looked at me, for just one fleeting instant, before she went back to Luther and shoved an enormous handful of popcorn into her mouth. I took the ball out from under my seat and put it on the sofa next to her. Grandma played totally dumb and didn’t even look at it.
“Okay, Google,” she’d said earlier. “How do you test for royalty?”
I considered the situation. No way. This woman couldn’t possibly have gone completely fairy tale on me. Insanity. Madness. And yet…
Sure enough, as I plunged my hand back under the sofa, I found more round items—one of those big balls of rubber bands, a round lip balm container, and finally… I peered at the strange little something between my fingertips.
“Is this a pea?” I whispered.
She didn’t answer right away, but instead waited for a gap in the dialogue and whispered back, “Wasabi edamame.” And beamed.
*
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IN A STRANGER’S BED
A Goldilocks Story
Sophie Jordan
~
Once upon a time Goldilocks became lost in the forest. She walked and walked until she came upon a house…
~
The bus was gone.
It took several moments to comprehend. Thea scanned the beautiful landscape. The green hills and mountains beyond. The navy blue skyline. Nature at its purest form. And no bus. She rotated in a small circle, searching for it as if it might suddenly materialize. Nope. Still no bus.
She was well and truly alone in the Highlands of Scotland.
In the distance, she heard a sheep bleat. It was a pitiful little sound that echoed precisely how pathetic she felt in this moment.
The wind swept over her, whipping hair into her eyes. She dragged it out of her face. A drizzling mist fell, but that had been pretty standard since she arrived in Scotland. She’d long given up on her flat iron and let her hair run wild. There was no help for it.
She looked to the spot where the bus had been parked. It had sat there, waiting as she and twenty-one other tourists roamed the mist-shrouded hills.
Everything about her surroundings felt magical. As though there really were fairies here like the tour guide had said. She could practically feel their eyes on her now, watching, whispering. She had been sucked in, so caught up in the wonder of this green-dappled land with its moaning winds that she had lingered too long.
Twenty-one tourists had boarded the bus without her. And left. She couldn’t get over that fact. She’d been abandoned.
She eyed the sky reproachfully again. It wasn’t evening yet, but she had seen very little of the sun on this trip. It would be fully dark soon. She couldn’t just stand here in this cold drizzle. Night was coming. She’d freeze to death.
She swung her backpack off her shoulder and dug out her phone along with her itinerary that included all pertinent numbers. Reception was spotty out here. Wi-Fi nonexistent. Even so, she lucked out and managed to get through to the tour group company based out of Glasgow that she’d hired to get her around Scotland. Her luck ended though when an automated message came on stating their office was closed for the day. Fabulous.
At least she knew her group was returning to the Drovers Inn where they had stayed the night before. She just needed to meet up with them there. Somehow.
Heaving a great sigh, she tucked her phone and itinerary away again, slung her pack over her back, and started down the narrow road. Assumedly, it would lead her to a more-traveled motorway where she could flag down a car to take her to the Drovers Inn.
Except after half an hour she began to wonder if this road would ever lead anywhere.
She didn’t remember it taking so long to get to the glen, but she had been an awestruck tourist with her face pressed to the window, reveling in the beautiful landscape. Scotland really was everything she had always dreamed. The perfect honeymoon.
Even minus the groom.
The drizzle turned into full-fledged rain. She looked up at the darkening sky as it unleashed torrents of water. Her sodden clothes felt like a hundred pounds weighing her down. It was getting harder to see in front of her. She took cautious steps, concentrating on not straying off the path or hitting a particularly slick spot. She could just imagine it. They’d find her corpse a year from now in some Scottish bog. Her grandmother would tell anyone who would listen that she had told Thea not to take this trip.
Grams always made her opinions very clear. Women should not travel alone. They should not take trips to faraway lands. They should marry and stay home and make babies.
Gina would be sad. She would cry. Maybe even blame herself a little. After all, Gina was a good friend who had encouraged Thea to take this vacation and get herself under the first big, brawny Scot she met. Best way to get over a man was to get under one.
Shaking away thoughts of her imminent demise, Thea squinted against the rain and gazed up at the deepening sky—then stopped hard. There was smoke in the distance. Off to her right. A curling trail of pale gray against the curtain of rain and descending night.
Excitement thrummed in her chest. It was the only proof of civilization she’d glimpsed since the bus abandoned her. She glanced down the road and then at the smoke again. She didn’t think the source of that smoke could be too far away.
She hugged herself. It was getting colder. What if she kept to the road and no car came along? She could freeze to death while there was a house nearby. Venturing off-road didn’t seem so risky when she thought about it in those terms.
Adjusting her grip on the straps of her backpack, she stepped off the path and set out, heading up the grassy-thick hill. She was glad she’d invested in some good tennis shoes for this trip. Even so, they weren’t rainproof hiking boots. Those would have been handy. Her shoes were soaked, her socks squishing miserably around her feet. The ground was turning spongy and unstable beneath her, slowing her progress.