"This is exactly why I am always responsible for planning our vacation every year."
Layla reached beside her to grab onto the wooden edge of the wagon and hold on for dear life as it shook and bounced its way along a dirt road that very well may have been a throwback to the Westward Expansion.
"Why?" Eli asked.
At the same moment he replied, the wagon hit a particularly deep rut in the road, tossing the small man off the bench across from Layla and into the thick bed of hay at their feet.
"Because if I had planned the trip like I always do we would be lounging on a tropical beach somewhere instead of bumping our way along in a freaking covered wagon on the way to the Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch. The one time in the history of the Annual Vacation Extravaganza tradition that I entrust the two of you to plan our trip, you end up making straw angels."
"Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch and Spa," Quinn corrected for her place beside Layla.
She held out the brochure so that Layla could see the idyllic-looking image on the front, but Layla just glared back at her. The wagon pulled to a rough stop, sending Eli back down into the hay and nearly toppling Layla and Quinn down on top of him, which would have brought an abrupt and unpleasant end to their journey as each woman outweighed him by at least 70 pounds.
"Have you never met me?" Layla asked, grabbing her suitcases off the floor of the wagon where she had been gripping them between her feet so they didn't skitter out during the ride, "What part of 'Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch' just screamed 'Layla' to you?"
"And Spa," Quinn said again, holding out the brochure, "You like spas."
"I like real spas," Layla said, walking unsteadily toward the opening at the end of the wagon, "With crisp white sheets and aromatherapy oils and pretty boys telling me to take off my --- oh, holy hell."
Layla stepped down out of the wagon and got her first full view of the guest ranch…and spa. She immediately knew why whoever owned this place had named it "Middle of Nowhere". Tucked in what looked like an area that had been blasted out of the woods with haphazardly thrown dynamite, the scattered buildings of the ranch were a strange, teetering balance between a kitschy tourist stop and the backdrop for a low-budget horror film.
"This is perfect!" Quinn gushed, putting down her suitcase so she could extend her arms to her side and spin around joyously.
"For what?" Layla asked.
Quinn stopped spinning and gazed at Layla with enormous brown eyes that looked like they held all the hopes and dreams of the generations that came before her, and the innocence that said she actually believed she could accomplish them.
"To achieve my life goal of riding a real horse through the great outdoors. I'm going to be a rhinestone cowboy. Well, cowgirl."
Layla winced.
"I don't think that means what you think it does."
Just then an old man who very well may have been the one who blasted through the trees climbed down from the bench at the front of the wagon and shuffled his way around to them.
"Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere," he said, holding out an arm as if to encompass the eerily quiet ranch, "I hope you enjoy your week with us."
"Five days," Layla said, "We leave Saturday morning."
Eli came up beside Layla and looped an arm around her waist.
"Can't you try? Just a little bit? Q is so excited and it could be fun. You don't know. You didn't think that you were going to enjoy the Sweet Corn Festival she made us go to, either, but you ended up having a blast."
"I ate seven ears of roasted corn, drank some moonshine, and woke up the next day."
"See? Fun."
Layla looked back over at Quinn who was now closely scrutinizing a map of the ranch and bombarding the little old man with questions. She sighed and put her arm around Eli's waist, resting her head on his thin shoulder.
"Alright. I will try to be good. She really does look happy."
Ten minutes later Layla was already starting to regret her promise. She lugged her suitcases up onto the small front porch of their assigned cabin and let out a long exhalation, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead to remove the sweat that had beaded there during their hike through the rest of the ranch to get there.
"Why did they put us in the very last cabin?" she asked through her panting breaths.
"I asked for something quiet and secluded," Quinn replied as she fought with the old-fashioned-looking key trying to get the front door open.
Layla straightened and put her hands on her full hips.
"The whole damn place is quiet and secluded. They didn't need to send us on our very own personal trail of tears to get here."
"I don't think that was tasteful," Eli whispered, glancing around them as if a political activist group was going to jump out at them from behind one of the trees.
"I'm sorry. Look around you, though. We are so far out I think we left the middle of nowhere and now very well may be closer to somewhere."
"Is 'Somewhere' on the map?" Quinn asked.
The door finally relented under her coaxing and swung open. Layla let the other two enter first before dragging her suitcases behind her into the cabin. As soon as she stepped inside she let them drop from her hands.
"Oh my god, it's the East Village revival of 'The Last of the Mohicans'."