Z is for Zamarra
Author's Note: I actually managed to combine the first two of the three-word challenges: Marijuana, Woman, Sheepskin and Primarily, Insert and Rambunctious. I have no idea how long it took me because I was watching the Emmy's at the same time.
Rated: T, because I combined Marijuana, Woman, Sheepskin, Primarily, Insert and Rambunctious.
Marijuana/Woman/Sheepskin/Primarily/Insert/Rambunctious
Alan Eppes chose the Weber Hotel at Big Bear primarily because it was not the one that Margaret had loved.
Alan's sons had been very supportive about him rejoining the dating world. Charlie had even managed to hold his tongue about his father dating his boss. So Alan felt that he owed it to them to have some consideration of their feelings.
Therefore Alan made a point of not taking his… Girl friend? Woman friend? He wasn't quite sure how to describe his relationship to Millie… to places that their sons associated with him and Margaret.
He even avoided picking Professor Mildred "Millie" Finch up at work, so as to not wave their affair under Charlie's nose. Instead, he picked her up at her new house.
He was glad to see that she had packed lightly, there was only some much room in his trunk. Not to mention he was somewhat past the age of heaving lifting.
After he loaded her suitcases, he came around and accepted a cup of coffee.
"Thanks," he said, taking a sip. "You look nice." He admired her zaftig figure in it's blue pantsuit and beige cape.
"Nice zamarra," Millie said, running her fingers lightly down the sleeve of his sheepskin jacket.
"Thank you," Alan said, guessing that zamarra meant 'sheepskin jacket'. "Charlie gave it to me for my birthday last year."
"I remember him mentioning it," Millie said. "He told me that you liked sheepskin." She whirled to show off her cape-like outer garment.
"That's lovely," Alan said. "What do you call that one?"
"It's a ruana… a sheepskin ruana," Millie said. "So, where are we off to? Besides Big Bear ski resort?"
A place called Weber's Hotel," Alan said.
"I've never been to that one, what's it like?"
"I don't know from personal experience," Alan admitted. "But the picture of it in the newspaper insert looked lovely."
Millie gaped. "Newspaper insert… I hope you did more of a background check?"
"You sound like Don," Alan said, smirking.
Millie raised her eyebrow.
Alan laughed. "All right. I first saw an actual picture of the place in one of those ads that fall out of the newspaper, but that's not why I picked it. Larry Fleinhardt knows the owner. So we're getting a good price."
"Ah, so I'm a cheap date?" Millie asked archly.
"Of course not," Alan smirked. "But saving money on the room allows us to spend it on other things." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Millie laughed.
She laughed even harder when Alan opened the car door for her and she saw that… "You have sheepskin car seat covers."
"So I do," Alan said. "Unfortunately, Charlie inherited his mother's sense of humor. So, when I told him that I liked sheepskin…"
Millie tugged on her sheepskin ruana.
"Exactly," Alan said. "Don got me these. Amita got me Ugg boots. Larry bought me some slippers." He gestured into the car. "Megan bought me the steering wheel cover. And David bought me…"
"Gloves?" Millie guessed.
"No, a cleaning kit for sheepskin."
Millie laughed again. "Ever the practical one," she said. "I may have to adopt that boy."
"I think David's parents might object to that," Alan said. He held out his hand. "Shall we go, my dear?"
"Let's," Millie said, allowing Alan to assist her into the car.
The Weber Hotel was actually a collection of cabins clustered around the main building. They picked up their keys at the lobby and drove carefully around the back to their cabin. It was a nice, secluded one, probably the farthest from the road.
When Millie and Alan pulled into the parking space in front of Cabin 6, they noticed that the lights were on.
"Are we in the right place?" Millie wondered.
Alan rechecked his key. "Cabin 6. There's a line under the six so I'm sure it's not a nine." He laughed. "It would be ironic if Charlie's father couldn't tell the difference between a six and a nine, right?"
"You're retired, you don't have to know numbers," Millie said. "That's why you keep Charlie around."
Alan chuckled.
They climbed out of the car and approached the cabin door, and hesitated when they saw it was open.
"Maybe you'd better stay outside," Alan said, holding out his arm to bar her progress.
"Don't even go there," Millie said. She hustled by him and nudged the door open with her booted foot.
Inside the cabin were three teen age boys who were sprawled out in front of a crackling fire. Millie blinked. Yes, it was a sheepskin rug in front of that fireplace.
That didn't hold her attention for long. Not when the smoke drifting from the fireplace held a familiar sickly sweet odor.
The three boys blinked up at her. "Hey, there's an old broad in the room," one of them said vaguely.
"What's she doing here?" another asked.
"This old broad is renting this cabin and she wants you to get your skinny butt out of here," Millie barked.
The three boys scramble to their feet.
"Well," the first one said. "Maybe we ought get…"
Alan loomed behind Millie. "Get what? Stoned? Rambunctious? The hell out of here?"
Three against one would have seemed good odds, but Alan outmassed all three of their scrawny carcases put together. The three weren't stoned enough not to notice the size descrepcency, so they opted for "the hell out of there."
"Glad they weren't the, how'd you put it? rambunctious type," Millie said.
"I think we could have taken them," Alan replied.
Millie grinned. "You'd trust me at your back during a brawl?"
"Why not?" Alan saidl "Lord knows you have poor Charlie intimidated."
Millie laughed and checked outside. The tracks led away from the cabin and into the woods. She hoped they wouldn't try to drive in their condition. Although they were in more danger from hyperthermia, should it begin to snow.
Alan checked the cabin, in case there were any stragglers. Not finding any didn't encourage them to unpack. The smoke had made the cabin uninhabitable. So they went back to the lobby and complained.
The manager, Larry's very good friend Jillian, apologized profusely.
"They were supposed to go to Cabin Nine," she said. "Not that I expected them to start smoking pot," she added hastily.
"That's all right," Alan said calmly. "You're not a mind reader."
"Thank you," Jillian said. "I'll put you in Cabin 2, shall I? I don't think anybody could mistake it for something else."
"Thank you," Alan said. "I'll let you know if those three show up again."
"They won't," Jillian assured them. "I'll call the rangers to pick them up. They'll likely to hurt themselves if they're allowed to run loose while they're potted."
"Thanks," Millie said. "They clearly were in no condition to drive. I'm surprised they were able to walk."
When they were safely ensconced in their new abode, Alan and Millie looked at each other and laughed.
"Pity we didn't check to see if they left any weed behind," Alan said.
Millie laughed. "What would your sons say if you got stoned?" she asked.
"Why didn't we save them any?" Alan joked. He looked around. "Well, there's a sheepskin rug in here, too," he said. "I guess I have all the sheepskin I need, now."
"Not quite," Millie smiled.
Alan raised his eyebrows.
"Charlie did mention the sheepskin joke to me," Millie said, eyes sparking. "So I decided on something that none of the others gave you."
"Not gloves, I hope," Alan said. "I have gloves." He didn't mention that they were from Colby. He wasn't comfortable talking about him yet.
"No, I got you these little beauties," Millie said. She pulled a cellophane wrapped box from her sheepskin purse.
Alan grinned. "You know, that sheepskin rug looks very comfortable…"