Three

The campground was surrounded by the park, with its wooded tree lines and entrances to many trails for different levels of hiking expertise. Each trail had something special to offer. The tall evergreens were as pretty as a picture with the snow caked on top of each branch and a burst of green popping out.

Happy Trails added to the park’s natural beauty with lights around the campers and on all the trees that surrounded the lake. Henry had taken it upon himself to put white lights around all the tree trunks, making the lake look like a winter wonderland. Ty Randal, one of the residents who lived at the campground fulltime, had donated ice skates in various sizes to the campground.  Instead of closing the cute tiki hut bar next to the dock for winter, we turned it into a skate shack, where guests could borrow skates and enjoy the frozen lake. 

Instead of going to the right of the lake, I drove around the circle on the left, so I could drop off the Christmas tree. The rest of the stuff I’d bring over after I parked my car at my RV.

You could spot my RV from a mile away. The vibrant yellow pop top’s awning was up with a farm-style picnic table underneath. I’d hung icicle lights around the awning and the camper. I loved Christmas and spending it here was perfect.

I parked the car on the concrete pad next to my RV.

The yelping from inside the RV came from Fifi, the miniature poodle I’d acquired from a woman whose house I’d cleaned. Long story short, she was one of the suspects in a crime I’d helped solve. Only she’d gone to jail for a few days before I solved it and she picked me of all people to babysit her prized, award-winning poodle.

Unfortunately, it was during the summer and our busiest season. I let Fifi run around during one of the campground parties and Ethel Biddle’s brown and white pug, Rosco, was seen in an uncompromising position with Fifi. And Fifi got pregnant. She’d done “gone to the wrong side of the tracks” as her original owner had told me and Fifi was no longer worth half a cent, making Fifi useless to her and my problem from then on.

“Hi, baby girl.” I opened the door, greeted by a small ball of fur, tap dancing around on her four little paws. “You are exactly what I needed to see.”

I picked her up and gave her a few kisses before sliding her paws into little shoes. It was ridiculous. Me with a dog. I’d barely been able to take care of myself, much less a dog. It’d been an adjustment for me to stop by the RV to let her out or take her with me, which I’d been doing a lot. She didn’t like the snow and the only way I could get her outside to do her business was to put these dog booties on her.

I’m sure they’d look adorable if I’d continued to keep her groomed like she’d been used to, with balls of fur in various places along her otherwise shaved body, but I couldn’t do that to her in the cold winter. She shivered as it was, even with a coat on. Besides, she didn’t need to perform for anyone now that she owned me. And that’s what it was. She owned me now.

“Want to come with me to decorate?” I asked Fifi once I’d put her down under the awning, so she’d get her footing and realize she was going to have to go potty in the snow. “I’ve got to put up a snowman and some lights.”

I glanced across the lake at the mini camper Nadine had rented before I retrieved the wagon from the backside of the RV. It was one of those industrial wagons with big wheels. It was perfect for when I wanted to go to the lake with blankets and beach things. It was also perfect for wheeling Fifi around and for doing gardening around the campground, though Henry did most of it.

“You comin’?” The familiar voice called from the distance, though the echo off the mountains and trees made it sound like Henry was much closer. “Gettin’ colder by the minute!”

“I’m coming!” I hollered, pulling the cart behind me. Fifi did her business and ran over as quick as her little legs would carry her before she stood on her back legs and clawed the air with her front legs for me to pick her up. “I’m going to grab you a blanket too.”

I talked to her like a person. I swear she knew what I was saying. It made me feel better to think she did. I carried her until we got to the car. After I put the items Buck had given me in the wagon, I grabbed a blanket from my backseat and put it in there with Fifi perched on top.

“Dashing through the snow, in a little wagon,” I began to sing on our way over to the other side of the lake where Henry had started to put up a small Christmas tree. “Fififi, Fififi, Fifi all the way.” I changed the lyrics to get my little pup to wag her cute tail when I said her name.

No matter what, she was always happy to see me, and it lifted my spirits.

“This here sure is a cute tree.” Henry stood back from the little four-footer and went back to straighten it up. “Is this for your foster mama?”

I jerked up from the taking the blow-up snowman out of the wagon.

“What did you say?” I was sure the bitter cold had frozen my eardrums. “I thought you said something about my foster mama.” I laughed and turned back to get the electric fan to blow the lawn ornament up.

“I did.” Henry had picked up the lights he’d gotten from seasonal storage unit and walked around the tree, placing them on the branches. “Bobby Ray said something about your foster mama comin’ to visit or something.”

I thought back long and hard to when I saw Bobby Ray at the thrift shop and he never mentioned Mary Elizabeth Moberly’s name once. Or trust me, I’da come unglued.

“Mae?” Henry called my name. It was like I was frozen solid right there in my snow boots. “Mae?”

I blinked a few times. The chill had left the outside of my body and moved inside to my organs.

“Did you say that Bobby Ray Bond,” I said, pointing to Bobby Ray’s camper, “said that?” I had to make sure I heard him correctly. “Because I know I’m not hearing you right.”

“Yep. She’s comin’ for Christmas. He even asked Dottie if there was a rental available and when Dottie said we was all booked up, he mumbled about putting her in his camper or even up at one of the log cabins up on Tree Top Lookout.”

“Or he could put her up in a cabin in Colorado,” I groaned, knowing it was just like Bobby Ray to get a soft heart on me now. He was always a sucker around the holidays and if I knew Mary Elizabeth Moberly like I did, she was going to use that to her advantage.

“Colorado? Why Mae West,” Henry cackled. “I’m not that smart on geography and all but I do believe that’s clear out yonder across the United States.”

“That’s where she needs to be.” My eyes narrowed as I glared across the lake wondering when it was the blizzard was going to blow in. And I didn’t mean the snow blizzard.

The darkness during the winter months came much earlier in Daniel Boone National Park than it did other places in Kentucky. In most other parts of the state it got dark around six p.m. In the mountains of the park, it got dark around five p.m. and there wasn’t much for me to do but sit in my RV staring across the lake to see when Nadine White was going to arrive.

Well…there was one thing I’d been doing that I’d tried not to do and that was stew over what Henry had said. I continued to tell myself I was waiting on Nadine White, but when Bobby Ray Bond’s car rolled up next to his camper, I darted out the door.

“Well, well. May-bell-ine, you sure are in a rush to greet me from work. Are you inviting me to supper?” He smiled as big as the moon hanging over our head and as bright too. “It’ll just take a second for me to clean up.”

“Right now, the last thing I’m going to do is sit down for supper with you if what Henry told me is true.” I stuck my hands in my coat pocket. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees since the darkness had crept in and taken over any and all light.

“Do you mean that Henry didn’t tell you I was visiting?” A familiar looking woman with glossy brown hair cut in a stylish way stood at the entrance of the camper. “Mae, you better get over here and give me some sugar.”

There stood Mary Elizabeth Moberly in all her southern glory, pearls and all, with her arms outstretched. She was dressed head to toe in Lily Pulitzer or at least someone with similar designs. Trust me. I knew. She used to cover me in the same bright pinks and yellows.

“Whaaat?” Her southern voice dripped off her like the pearls around her neck. “You aren’t happy to see me? I did take you in and give you a wonderful home after you bounced around to a few different foster homes. Got you debutante lessons and etiquette classes and put you in the finest of clubs.” She frowned, batted her eyes and jutted her arms out again. “I forgive you for not inviting me to your wedding. Though.” Her head bobbled side-to-side. “I did hear it didn’t end so gracefully.” Her eyes raked over me.

Gracefully wasn’t a word I’d used to describe the situation with my murdered ex-husband, but it was a word that Mary Elizabeth would use. And use often. It was that southern grace that she tried to put in me when I went to live with her and it was her southern manners that I fought against tooth and nail until I clawed my way out.

I found myself staring at that straight head of hair of hers that lay so perfectly over her shoulders. As I tried to tame down my curly hair by patting my head, I realized she was staring at my sweatshirt with a picture of that Grumpy Cat from the internet. It was like a quarter at the thrift store and I thought it was cute.

I put my hands in my pockets and brought them to the middle of my stomach, forcing the jacket to close up around me. I would’ve zipped it up but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction that I’d noticed she was judging me by my outfit. Sweatpants tucked in snow boots and a sweatshirt wasn’t her idea of clothing, much less a sweatshirt with a big cat head and Stay Away printed across the front.

“Mae, she deserves to have Christmas with us now that you’re back,” Bobby Ray whispered as I continued to stare at Mary Elizabeth.

“Fine.” I stomped. “But I won’t call you mom,” I protested and hurried back to my RV, where I was going to do what I did with every other situation that made me mad.

I would replay this over and over in my head until I’d ran over it with my car, dragged it home, and beaten it to death in my mind.

“Mae, honey, can’t we just get along?” Her voice ran right through me, sending chills all along my spine.

In my head all I heard was “May-bell-ine, honey, you are a Moberly now. You need to act as if you have some good southern charm. That includes politeness, kindness, table manners, and social grace, all at the cost of happiness. Do you understand me, May-bell-ine? Are you listening to me, May-bell-ine? You can’t get anything below an A in your classes. Don’t you know that you’ve got to go the University of Kentucky and join my sorority? You can’t be embarrassing me with mediocre grades. Do you understand your place in society, May-bell-ine?”

It was dialogue I’d replay in my head all night until I finally fell asleep and the alarm on my cell phone woke me the next morning.