A/N: Setting the scene: This isn't really related to my other stories. It's a future view, of sorts. Dick and Mac have graduated from Hearst, they are in an established relationship as are LoVe, and Piz and Parker, of course. This is about 3 months after graduation, when they are out in the Real World (sort of). More of friendship bonding, with some relationship matters, too. Not knowing much about Parker's family there will be a few OC's including an older sister.
I started writing this story Fall of 2013 after I went to a bachelorette weekend at a lake house for my baby cousin, who got married November 2013. Anyway, in true fanfic writer fashion all I kept thinking that whole (Wi-Fi-less) weekend was what a GREAT Veronica Mars fanfic story it would make, with some changes to protect the "guilty" of course! I shared the idea with some other members of the VM fandom (lateVMlover, Turquoise Dragonfly, cainc3) and with their support & promises to read said story, here ya go, the first chapter is FINALLY ready. Turquoise Dragonfly beta'ed the first part of the story and proclaimed it post-ready. Thank you for your encouragement for me to continue this idea (she calls it my Hen Do weekend story, evidently that's what they call Bachelorette weekends in the UK). Anyway, her encouragement can also be read as nagging! *grins. But a BIG shout-out to Turquoise, lateVMlover & cainc3. And a HUGE thank you to everyone for reading this. Double appreciation if you also review it. Enjoy!
A Weekend to Remember
Chapter 1—Lost
Labor Day weekend, 2010
Cindy "Mac" Mackenzie neatly folded AlieNationtee-shirt and placed it in her new black suitcase. She triumphantly zipped it up, leaving the case on the far end of their big King-sized bed.
"Finished! Finally," she exclaimed. With a flourish, she dramatically placed her left hand on her forehead as she flopped down next to Dick Casablancas who had been stretched out on the bed watching her mad dash to get everything ready for tomorrow's festivities.
It was Parker Lee, soon to be Parker Piznarsky's, bachelorette party weekend. Twelve women, a huge lake house, a long Labor Day weekend—the perfect send off for Parker's single days. Veronica was picking her up at 9 AM the next day to take them to the airport. They were flying into Sacramento, and then driving the two and a half hours or so to Lake Tahoe.
"So, you're telling me there aren't any lakes a bit more local?" Dick asked for what seemed to Mac as the millionth time.
"We've been over this," Mac said sighing. "Lake Tahoe is more central to Denver and Portland, where several of the other girls are coming from. It's supposed to be a huge, sprawling house with lake access, a huge dock, and a hot tub," she paused a second, before adding as an afterthought, "you know, I'm probably never going to want to come back here."
Both Dick and Mac had graduated from Hearst College three months earlier and they were still living in the two bedroom apartment they'd shared since junior year when Logan and Dick had finally decided to branch off from the Penthouse suite of the Neptune Grand. It was cozy and it was home.
Despite their rocky start back at Neptune High, where they could barely stand to be in the same room together, Mac and Dick had started dating their sophomore year at Hearst. Veronica had been shocked at first, but soon saw how well her best friend and Logan's best friend meshed together. The logical half of Mac's brain had been surprised, too, she would have assumed it would be like mixing an acid and a base together (neutralization), but in reality what resulted was pure chemistry. The old cliché about opposites attracting certainly had some merit, and beyond that they shared a Cassidy-sized bond, both of them having loved Dick's messed up baby brother who would never get to grow up.
"That's a risk I guess I'll have to take," Dick teased, grinning to show he didn't mean it. "Maybe I'll have to give you a reason compelling enough to come home. Hmmm," he pretended to be deep in thought, and then his joking grin morphed into a more lascivious look as he leaned in to kiss Mac. Her lips parted as she permitted him entry.
Dick pulled her on top of him and proceeded to help her shed her clothes. Carelessly, as each article was removed, he tossed them across the room. They landed haphazardly on the floor, joining the mix of shirts, shorts and jeans that hadn't ended up making the cut during her packing marathon. Soon Mac was wearing nothing but her red satin female boxer panties—a recent purchase from one of Dick's Victoria Secret shopping sprees.
He caressed one of Mac's nipples and she moaned. Mac arched back slightly as Dick skillfully worked her breasts. Taking her hands, she put one on his head playing with his silky, slightly shaggy blonde hair that she loved so much, her other hand went more southerly until she found his balls, giving them a gentle massage. Dick emitted his own groan.
"Alright," Mac confessed in a breathy tone, "you're starting to convince me. But I think I need just a little more information to fully come to a conclusion." She laughed as Dick once again rolled her over, so this time she was on the bottom. He grabbed her panties in his teeth and pulled them down all the way to her ankles. "Such big teeth you have there, stud."
"The better to remove your undies with, my dear," he quipped in his best wolfish tone. "So, just to make sure we're on the same page, when you said, fully coming, you just meant you want to come to a conclusion, right?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, by coming I meant an orgasm," she clarified, kicking the underwear that was now around her ankles up in the air, not caring where it landed among the hurricane of clothes.
"I don't know, I was thinking maybe it would be better if I left you wanting more. You know, incentivize you to come back home Monday."
"Incentivize, huh? How positively Business Major-ie of you. How about you do less talking with your tongue, and a little more pleasure making," Mac ordered. She guided Dick's head down so his magic tongue could enter her.
As Dick followed her command, a shiver snaked its way up Mac's spine and she dug her hands deeper into his hair, plunging his tongue further into her vagina. As Dick did some exploring of his own, she let another groan escape, her toes curling as she felt the waves breaking.
As his tongue varied its pressure from teasing little flicks to deep, lingering strokes against Mac's clit, Dick's eyes tracked their way up to her eyes. As he watched her, Mac bit her bottom lip and continued weaving her fingers in his hair. Her fingers stiffened, she licked her lips, as an orgasm was building. However, right as the release was about to spill over into a river of pleasure, Dick pulled away at the last second.
Mac removed her hands from his hair, but not before giving a generous chunk of it a not-so-gentle tug. "Asshole," she murmured, still breathless from her almost-crescendo.
"Incentivize, remember?" Dick reminded her. "No, seriously, I want to be inside you so bad right now. I need to feel it, feel you."
Not arguing with that logic, Mac quit her grumping and spread her legs wider so he could enter her. She tensed for a brief moment and then relaxed as he plunged deeper, connecting again with her clit. The hot, inky blackness of an orgasm clung, swelling and then bursting over her. Dick closed his eyes, as Mac tightened up in climax. She screamed, but it was more of a low, animalistic, guttural sound. Her short, business woman nails raked trails down his back.
He kept up the frenetic paced plunges wanting to merge them into just one person. She continued to quake beneath him, little aftershocks coming on top of each other forcing him towards his own culmination. Mac bit him on his right nipple and he groaned right as his own orgasm dragged him under.
***/***/***/***/***/***/***/
Mac woke up to the sun streaming through a crack in the blinds, and the buzzing of her alarm intruding on the deep, dreamless sleep she'd been in since her aerobic activities of the night before. Cracking one bleary eye open she saw it was just after 7 AM. She'd been just about to unceremoniously punch the off button, or hurl it against the wall, she didn't care which. She was erroneously thinking it was a Saturday. Suddenly she remembered that Veronica would be there in less than two hours to pick her up for their Bachelorette Party weekend, and that thought had her sitting up in the bed, in a brief panic.
As Parker's maid of honor, this bachelorette weekend in Lake Tahoe was one invitation Mac couldn't refuse. Veronica, on the other hand, had needed a bit of convincing, blackmail technically. She didn't care that her methods were a bit gray; it was worth it for the much-needed reinforcements. Three whole days filled with "super-fun" bridesmaids dress games, pin the dick on the male model, a penis cake, chick flicks and who knows what other instruments of torture the matron of honor—Parker's newlywed sister, Paige—dreamed up for their weekend of frivolity and minor debauchery. Not really being a purveyor of girly type activities, Mac felt like her role in the bridal party was largely that of a figure head, since Paige had taken over the reins in most of the planning, but Parker had assured her the most important role in her eyes was just to be there. Mac was unable to find fault with that logic.
Dick's side of the bed was empty. He'd always been an early riser, exception being, of course, those party-filled weekends. Now that they'd graduated though, there were a lot less of those all-night social engagements. Bit by bit, they were being replaced by early morning business meetings and other adult responsibilities. Ugh, adulting!
Mac assumed he'd probably snuck out to get breakfast. Dick wasn't much of a cook himself—years of growing up with a house full of staff to cater to your every whim didn't make someone proficient in the areas of cooking, or cleaning for that matter—but he excelled in the art of take-out.
Mac yawned. Her stomach growled, giving her the added incentive of leaving her warm nest of blankets. She stretched her arms and saw that her suitcase had become collateral damage somewhere in the course of their marathon lovemaking session; it had fallen off the bed at some point and was now lying on its side on the floor. She bent over and pulled it right side up again.
Mac left the master bedroom and made a lap throughout their small apartment; there was no sign of Dick. In the kitchen she found a full pot of coffee and a note.
It read;
Hey baby, have a cup of coffee. I just ran out to get breakfast. I'll be right back. Gotta send you out on a full stomach. See, that's just one more way to incentivize you to come back to me…I have other ideas in mind, too.
Love, your own personal Dick
She groaned internally at the last bit. He had just come up with that signature a few months ago and thought it was terribly cleaver. It didn't really matter though, she supposed, it was for her eyes only anyway.
Grabbing a cup from the narrow cabinet by the stove, she poured herself a cup of coffee, and then grabbed the carton of soymilk Dick had left out on the counter for her convenience. After pouring a few generous splashes of the milk, she placed it back into the fridge.
Mac took her drink out to the dining room and settled into one of the high backed chairs of their new (overpriced) dining set. She and Dick had been on a furniture shopping kick, it was part of their quest to become grownups, it was proving to be a painstaking process. And by their, Mac really meant her quest, because Dick lived by the motto that immaturity could last a lifetime.
She took a sip of the strong coffee, and waited for the caffeine to percolate its way through her bloodstream, waking her up. It was going to be a long day…She mentally ticked her way through all the plans Paige had emailed her for the "super fun" weekend.
The theme was Days of Wine and Roses, like the old movie of the same name. The wine part Mac could support, she just hoped the lake house (mansion) wouldn't smell like a bordello with all those flowers perfuming the air. Far as Mac could tell, girly-ness was a dominant gene in the Lee family.
Parker was quite the fan of those romantic old movies, so the theme was quite fitting. In a lot of ways, she'd always reminded Mac of a film star of the 30s and 40s, back when it was in fashion to be classy, elegant, understated, not like today when people got famous ( or was it infamous) for flashing their ta-tas to anyone and everyone who would look.
The door banged open, interrupting Mac's ruminations. Dick walked in laden down by take home bags from their favorite breakfast spot, The Neptune Café. He kicked the door shut behind him.
Placing the containers on the table in front of Mac, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
"Breakfast is served, m'lady."
"Yay! I'm starving. So, what did you bring me?" Mac asked, after returning the kiss with interest.
"Your usual, of course. Would I dare get you anything but vegan oatmeal pancakes with two smoked veggie strips?"
"Probably not," Mac admitted. "You're pretty well-trained, by now." She grinned slyly as she said the last bit. Then she automatically corrected, "you mean veggie bacon." She opened the carton, and picked up a strip of bacon. She took a big bite and after swallowing gave an exaggerated sigh of contentment, rubbing her belly.
"No. I don't mean that, I meant what I said, smoked veggie strips. There's no such thing as Veggie bacon. It's made up, like the Easter Bunny. It's nothing but a nice piece of fiction! Veggie bacon, it redefines the term oxymoron. Everybody knows bacon is meat, and only meat! I will never recognize your veggie strips as bacon." He smirked as he launched into the same basic spiel he gave every time they ate at The Neptune Café.
."You're a work-in-progress," Mac retorted. "I like a challenge, what can I say."
"Speaking of challenges, how about I propose a little challenge for you?"
"No!" Mac said, emphatically.
"You didn't even hear my idea," Dick complained.
"I don't need to. The answer is no."
"I thought you liked a challenge."
"Apparently, not as much as I thought," Mac retracted.
"Two words; Cherry Jell-O," Dick proposed. He had a dreamy expression on his face evidently thinking way too impure thoughts about Mackie for that early in the morning.
"That was four words, actually," Mac corrected.
"The set up didn't count. The only words that count are Cherry and Jell-O, respectively."
"I know I'm going to regret asking, but what challenge are you proposing that involves Cherry Jell-O?"
"Cherry Jell-O wrestling, of course. You can take a giant vat of it; one of those plastic kiddie pools will work quite well for this purpose and take turns wrestling each other. The winner takes on Parker. You and Ronnie, I think, would be a fair match-up. Give me your phone, I'll call Parker and make sure it's added to the list of activities. It'll be a good way to get to know everyone in the bridal party. What better way to bond with each other than a nice match up of Jell-O wrestling?"
"Why cherry?"
"Well, Lime works well, too. It's personal preference, I guess."
"Could we use Orange Jell-O?" Mac asked.
"Personally, I think Cherry or Lime work best, but maybe it's just because I like the taste better. Like I said, it's really just a matter of preference, any flavor would work I guess." Dick opened the take-out container with his sausage and green pepper omelet inside; grabbing his fork he cut off a piece from the end closest to him and popped it in his mouth.
"There's only one thing you failed to take into account," Mac smirked.
He finished chewing then said "how to clean Jell-O out of your crevices? Phff! That's easy; you can soap each other up in the shower afterward. The Jell-O will wash down the drain with no problem, its water solvable, just use hot water, it'll melt right off."
"Nope. I was referring to my dietary needs. Jell-O isn't vegan. Darn!" Mac sarcastically snapped her fingers. "Guess I'll just have to sit that activity out."
"I'm sure there's a vegan brand of gelatin on the market. You could just stop at a health food store on your way to the lake house."
"Right, I'm sure Veronica would be thrilled with the whole plan."
"The pixie spy is a scrappy one, I think she more than anyone else would appreciate the chance to take down the rest of you."
"I thought you said we'd be a pretty even match up," Mac reminded him.
"She'd win in the end, but you'd put up a hell of a fight." Dick said inching away from Mac as he said it. He wasn't fast enough though, a hard punch landed on his upper arm. He thought there would probably be a bruise there in the morning. "Alright," he amended rubbing his arm, "you're pretty scrappy, too. I guess it could possibly end up in a dead heat." Dick grinned suggestively.
"You're the only one here risking death," Mac grumbled under her breath. Then said in a louder voice, "I'm sure Parker will appreciate your suggestion, but I think vegan gelatin would be too costly."
"Olive oil, then," Dick proposed before putting another bite of omelet in his mouth.
"I think we'll skip wrestling all together."
Dick tapped his right index finger on his chin as though in deep thought. "Pillow fights," he exclaimed as soon as he'd finished chewing. "Not using down pillows, though, of course, because that wouldn't be conducive to the vegan lifestyle, either."
"Let me guess, while we're in our skimpy black baby doll nighties," Mac snarked. "So, that's it, your activity suggestions are Jell-O wrestling, and lingerie-clad pillow fights?"
"Olive oil wrestling, since you pointed out Jell-O isn't vegan," Dick corrected. "It would ruin my fantasies if you were unable to participate."
"Yes, well, I'd hate for that to happen. So, while Veronica and I are getting oiled up, what will you and Logan do to keep yourselves out of trouble?" Mac asked, she rolled her eyes at Dick's leer when she said oiled up.
"I'm not sure. We'll probably drink a lot of beer, play video games, and hire a couple of escorts to boss us around and tell us to clean up after ourselves, since you and Ronnie won't be there to do it for free."
"Sounds wholesome," Mac quipped. She poured the packet of maple syrup on her pancakes and took a big bite. She swallowed, and then added "I bet you could engage Logan in a friendly match of Cherry Jell-O wrestling."
"There's not enough alcohol in the world to get me to agree to Jell-O wrestle Logan."
"But it's okay for us girls to do it?" Mac inquired.
"Yes! Now you're learning."
Mac felt like they'd fully exhausted the subject of Cherry Jell-O wrestling, she really wasn't sure what else needed to be said on the subject. They finished their breakfast in relative silence, occasionally Dick would make a suggestion here or there about appropriate activities for a big group of girls celebrating the end of Parker's single days. She ended up veto-ing all his suggestions in the end.
Glancing up at the wall clock on the back wall of their tiny galley kitchen, Mac saw that 9 AM was fast approaching. She mentally took inventory of the contents of her suitcase hoping she didn't forget anything. She was pretty sure she had remembered everything.
True to form, Veronica was her usual punctual self. The peal of the doorbell echoed through the apartment.
Mac went to the door to let her best friend in while Dick went back to their bedroom to retrieve her heavy piece of luggage.
"What the hell do you have in here, bricks?" Dick grumped as he hauled Mac's suitcase into the living room. He exaggeratedly limped as he carried it, as though he was weighted down by its bulk.
"Funny," Mac replied dryly. "It's not that much, just a few necessities."
"Define necessities." He complained as he deposited it by the door.
"Clothes, make up, Parker's shower gift, my Kindle, a few other assorted odds and ends. The suitcase actually has wheels, so you could've just rolled it." Mac explained, smiling at Dick's now you tell me expression. She opened the door. "Hey Vee, come in. I just have to get my laptop and then we can depart."
"Hi, Mac, hey Dick," Veronica greeted her friends and she walked into in living room of Mac's apartment. She shut the door behind her. "You're bringing your laptop? Do you think there will be Wi-Fi?"
"Of course, what the hell kind of place doesn't have Wi-Fi?" Mac was indignant.
"Uh, the rustic kind?"
"Rustic?" Mac asked as if she'd never heard that term before. She wrinkled her nose. "Plus, it doesn't really matter if it's rustic or not, I have a wireless card now. No more need to borrow yours. Aren't you bringing your laptop?"
"I thought I'd unplug a bit this weekend. But if I really feel disconnected I have my phone."
"A cell phone, really rustic there, Vee," Mac said over her shoulder. She went back to her bedroom to grab the laptop bag.
Veronica made a move to grab Mac's suitcase but Dick waved her off. "Don't break your back there, Mars. I've got this. What time is your flight?"
"11:30, out of John Wayne Airport, in Orange County," Veronica said. "So, as soon as your better half grabs her lifeline there, we'll have to skedaddle."
"Got it, let's hit the road," Mac said coming back out to the living room. She once again made a move to grab her suitcase and once again Dick rebuffed her. With the hand not carrying the bag, Dick opened the front door and motioned both ladies out. They made their way down the flights of stairs and out to the parking lot.
Veronica unlocked her Silver Saturn Vue SUV, the same one she'd had since freshman year at Hearst, then got into the driver's seat. Dick threw Mac's bags into the trunk and kissed her. Apparently, it was more passionate than Ronnie thought was warranted since she honked the horn as soon as she glanced over and saw the two of them hugging and kissing.
"Love you, Mackers. Don't forget about me in the course of all the fun and frivolity you're sure to have," Dick said after he reluctantly pulled away from their kiss. "Be safe, and text me to let me know you arrived safely."
"Will do. Love you, too, babe. Don't let your partner in crime get you arrested or anything while I'm away," she rejoined.
"I'll just use my get out of jail free card," he teased.
"Life is not a Monopoly board," she reminded him.
"I think you're mixing genres there, Mackers. Life and Monopoly are two separate games."
"Ha, ha, ha. You know what I meant."
Their joking banter was interrupted again though by another honk of Veronica's horn. She was pointing to her wrist just in case Mac couldn't figure out the source of her impatience. After one more quick embrace, she reluctantly pulled away. Dick opened the door and she climbed into the passenger seat.
"Who pissed in your Wheaties?" Mac snarked to her friend, as she buckled up her seatbelt.
"I just don't want to be late," Veronica explained as she looked in the rearview mirror and started backing out of the parking space.
"We have plenty of time," Mac said. After waving and blowing a kiss at Dick who stood off to the side watching them depart, she risked a side glance at Vee. She couldn't help thinking her friend looked stressed, her jaw was clenched, and she seemed to be white-knuckle gripping the wheel. Hesitantly, Mac finally asked, "is everything alright?"
"Yes," Veronica answered immediately, but then she softly amended "no. Well, I don't know. There's plenty of time to talk this weekend, I just…Yeah, I'm okay." They made the turn off to the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway).
"Well, okay," Mac relented. "If you do want to talk later though, I'm here."
"Thanks."
"No problem, pal."
Wisely deciding to change the subject Mac started listing all the super-fun activities Paige had planned for the weekend. It wasn't long before Veronica was proposing her own girls' weekend suggestions, her bad mood seemingly forgotten. Of course, Mac knew her best-friend excelled in the art of compartmentalizing things so while she didn't fully trust the change in mood, she'd follow Vee's lead.
A couple of times Veronica's cell rang from the depths of her purse. The first time it did that Mac inquired if she wanted her to dig it out and answer it. That suggestion was met with a scowl, so the next time it rang they pretended not to even hear it.
About 90 minutes later they pulled into the long-term parking lot of the John Wayne Regional Airport.
Mac grabbed her bag from the trunk and hefted it down to the ground. She paused to watch Veronica unzip part of her suitcase leaving just enough space to drop the cell phone she'd dug from the bottom of her purse, into the bowels of the suitcase. With that task accomplished, they both trekked over to the waiting shuttle bus, piling into the back row. After being dropped off at their airline terminal, they got into the ticketing line. Veronica checked her bag, and they made their way through the security check point. Once released, they made their way to the terminal and gate to wait.
Finally, boarding for their flight commenced.
It seemed to Mac that they'd barely taken off before the captain was back on the announcements saying they were preparing to land in Sacramento. It was a smooth flight, with only a few pockets of turbulence here and there. She was happy about that being a somewhat nervous flier. There had never really been money to fly in the Mackenzie household, their big vacation splurges centered on camping in their RV. It was only after she started dating Dick that Mac had ever even been on an airplane.
Veronica was a nervous flier, as well, so it didn't help Mac's cause any to glance over and see Vee looking around frantically at each little change in sound the engine made. She gripped the arm rest tightly when the wheels came down to prepare for descent.
Both girls let out sighs of relief as the wheels of the commuter jet touched down smoothly on the runway.
The flight itself was short, a little over an hour runway to runway.
After filing off the plane, they made their way down to the baggage claim area. The car rental desk was located on that level, as well. Mac was glad she'd been able to find room to stow her roller suitcase in the overheard bin, she'd heard too many horror stories of lost or destroyed luggage to risk it.
"Um, Vee, what color is your bag?" Mac asked after they'd been at the luggage carousel for the past 10 minutes watching the same collection of bags go around and around over and over again.
"Green and purple striped. It's a Samsonite, you know the hard shelled bags."
"That should be easy to spot," Mac replied, still scanning the conveyor belt. There wasn't anything matching that description among the spinning sea of mostly dark colored luggage.
"That was the plan," Veronica said sighing in resignation. "Well, I think my bag just became a statistic. Let's go make a claim and then maybe by Sunday I'll have my stuff back."
They made their way to the airline's lost baggage desk and Veronica filled out the requisite forms. The harried guy working the desk seemed confident that she'd have her bag back by the evening, the next day at the very latest. He gave her a piece of paper with tracking information as well.
After they dealt with the lost bag claim, Veronica and Mac made their way to the rental agency desk.
Mac handled the car rental arrangements and put it on her credit card. They charged an outrageous fee to people under the age of twenty-five. She also consented to the extra fee to add Veronica as an additional driver on the agreement. Suddenly the cost of the economy car was more on par with one of the luxury fleet. But still, it was better than driving Veronica's SUV or her bug from Neptune—they'd have more time for super-fun bridesmaid's games this way.
The shuttle took them from the main airport building to the rental car parking lot.
They matched the serial number on their key to a black Ford Focus sitting in the third row. After stowing both her suitcase and laptop bag in the trunk of the sedan, Mac got behind the wheel. Before sitting in the passenger seat, Veronica proceeded to dig a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket of her jeans; it had the address of the lake house on it. She took her seat, and then placed the paper on the console between the front seats.
As they drove around the airport grounds toward the highway, Veronica kept up a steady stream of chatter about cases she'd worked that summer for her dad. By the time they reached the route that would take them to the lake, she'd segued into how she couldn't believe Parker was settling down so young. Mac could tell though she was tip toeing around something, what though she didn't know. They'd been friends long enough for her to know interrogations didn't work, when Vee was ready to talk she would.
They had been driving for about an hour when Veronica's stomach launched a full-on protest. Mac laughed at her friend's growling stomach and bottomless appetite. She teased her about it as they took the next exit and drove around the small town until they found a diner. The sign in the window announced they supported the local farm to plate movement, so Mac figured the odds were decent that she'd find something vegan friendly there.
Her dad had instilled in her the desire to support small, local businesses. She thought it probably stemmed from his brief tenure as owner of Fun Time Motors, the company he was now just a mid-level salesman for. She hadn't even known he'd originally owned, and then lost it, when she was a toddler. Veronica had dug that information up when she'd found out their junior year of high school that Mac had been switched at birth with their nemesis, Madison Sinclair. It had turned out the funds to start the company had come from the million-dollar settlement with Neptune Memorial Hospital.
Mac pulled the rental car over, parallel parking just south of the restaurant.
After a brief wait, they were seated in a booth by the window. Mac was pleased to see an entire vegan column of the eclectic menu. She quickly settled on the mushroom tofu lettuce wraps while Veronica chose a spinach salad with grilled shrimp.
"I never get to eat shellfish these days, with Logan's allergy," Veronica said. It sounded like she was trying to justify her order.
"Well, this is certainly a good weekend to cut lose," Mac said, looking strangely at her friend, but Veronica was busy looking at the street, watching the cars pass by on the tiny town's main street. She looked more sad—or reflective at least—than pissed this time. Remembering her rebuff from earlier, this time Mac refrained from asking what was wrong.
"Yup, eating shrimp, that's certainly a text book example of girl's gone wild," Veronica retorted dryly, pulling her eyes away from the passing traffic and back on Mac.
"It's up there with Dick's suggestion of Jell-O wrestling," Mac agreed.
"Jell-O isn't vegan," Veronica replied.
"I know. Once I educated him, he amended it to Olive Oil."
When the food arrived, both girls eagerly tucked into their meal.
Conversation drifted away from vegan substitutes for Jell-O wrestling to a recap of their trip so far. Between bites they chatted about what they wanted to do, and what they did not want to do over the weekend, which ended up being just about every "super-fun" game Paige had listed in her email. Talk segued into Parker's plans so far for her big day, it was shaping up to be an elaborate affair. It didn't escape Mac's notice that Veronica had once again found a way to file away her sadness.
They fought over the bill. Veronica ended up winning the battle since Mac was financing the rental car. Mac surrendered her place behind the driver's seat to Veronica for the second half of the drive.
Neither of them felt very chatty after their meal. They found a radio station that played cheesy hits from the 80s, most of the songs dated back to before they were even conceived. Despite that, they still knew most of the songs well enough to sing along.
Less than an hour later, Mac started feeling tired. She looked out her window, resting her forehead against the cool glass. They had left the flat topography behind; the terrain was getting hillier as they got closer to their destination. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was a sign pronouncing Lake Tahoe to be 35 miles, and a steep pasture full of grazing cows. Mac dreamed about a cow in red lipstick lip syncing to "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." It was enough to jolt her out of a sound sleep.
As she started waking up she realized Veronica was singing along to Cyndi Lauper. Well, that explained part of the disturbing dream at least.
"Where are we, Vee?"
"About 35 miles from Lake Tahoe."
"Really? How long was I asleep, two minutes?"
"About an hour, give or take, I didn't realize you'd fallen asleep until I heard you snoring," Veronica said.
"I don't snore," Mac countered automatically. "An hour, are you sure? That doesn't add up."
"You do snore, and what do you mean it doesn't add up?"
"I swear right before I fell asleep and dreamt about singing cows, I saw a sign that said Lake Tahoe was 35 miles."
"Singing cows?" Veronica inquired. She risked a quick glance over at her friend.
"Yes, singing cows. That's the only thing you found significant in that sentence?"
"Actually, yes, I already figured out we're a tiny bit turned around."
"I think you mean lost," Mac corrected. She was fully awake now; she sat straighter up in her seat so she could look out into the vista beyond, as though she'd suddenly find the magic route to take them to the lake house.
"No, I don't. We're just a little turned around," Veronica repeated. "The directions I pulled off the internet from Paige said something about a turn off for Lake Vista Road around 15 miles from Lake Tahoe. I figured I'd overshot it, so I backtracked a little."
"Your phone doesn't have GPS?" Mac asked incredulously.
"It does GPS," she replied. "But my phone isn't here right now."
"It's not here? What did it do, escape? Did a cow steal it? Maybe it was afraid to be around a bunch of women at a Bachelorette party weekend?" Mac hypothesized.
"It's, um, in my suitcase now." Veronica's voice was meek.
"Oh, right," Mac said. "And right now, it's who the hell knows where.".
"Maybe I could use the GPS to find it. Oh right," Veronica snarked, removing one hand from the wheel to sarcastically snap her fingers, "the cell is packed away in my suitcase in the underbelly of some plane buried, never to be found again." She returned the hand to the wheel.
"Someone needs to invent a GPS device to locate lost GPS devices," Mac quipped.
"You're the one in the technology field."
"Right, maybe I'll bring it up in the next Kane Software shareholders meeting," Mac deadpanned. Then in all seriousness she said "maybe you shouldn't have checked your bag, and you definitely shouldn't have packed your phone."
Veronica bristled at that last comment. "Now you tell me. You're just like Logan; you both have all the answers to every fucking thing." However, it came out meaner sounding than she intended, and feeling contrite she sheepishly said, "Sorry."
Mac waved away the apology. "Comparing me to Logan, huh? What's up?"
"Let's just get to the house, hover over the bride-to-be, and then we—maybe once I consume a bottle or three of cheap champagne—I'll tell you." Veronica amended.
"Okay, you know I'm here, whenever you're ready to talk," Mac reiterated. "Now pull over somewhere so I can get my phone out of the laptop bag. I'd like to get to the house while there's still some champagne left."
"No need, I've got this. Lake Vista Road has to be here somewhere. It's on your side of the road. Are you looking?"
"I am looking, but they're all numbered routes, as far as I can tell, Vee. I haven't seen any road with Lake in the name." The last road they'd passed was State Route 52, Mac wondered if perhaps the roads had an official name (a numbered route) but also an unofficial name the locals called it. Small towns—Neptune was the perfect case-in-point—often had fucked up road naming conventions. Why the hell didn't they just stick with just one easy to remember name?
"Keep looking out the window on your side, and don't fall asleep on the job this time." Veronica said. It was more order than request.
"I wasn't aware that my navigator services were needed. I had a small bout of lunch-induced narcolepsy, that's why I make it a habit to never attend meetings right after a big meal."
"Bet your boss appreciates that," Veronica cracked.
"That's just one more example of the value I bring to my job, what can I say?" Mac continued the banter as she watched the scenery blurring by. The roads bisecting the main thoroughfare they were speeding down was few and far between. She was looking, but she didn't see any sign proclaiming Lake Vista Drive. She was getting irritated, there was a technological answer to their dilemma, but Vee was hell bent on the challenge of finding the road on her own, with just her trusty paper directions for guidance.
***/***/***/***/***/***/***/
Parker gratefully accepted the plastic disposable flute of champagne being pressed in her hand. Sparkling wine was the technical term however, seeing as they definitely didn't import it from the Champagne region of France, but she liked the sound of champagne better. "Thank you," she said.
Her benefactor was her older sister, Paige. They were 7 years apart in age, so for her teen years it was as though she were an only child. The last couple of years had brought them much closer though. Paige had been married two years, so she was happy to advise her baby sister on the ins and outs of wedding planning.
Taking a big sip of the sweet sparkling wine, Parker looked around at the lake house's enormous great room. The sun pooling in through the wall of windows caught the sheen of the Brazilian Cherry wood floors. The lake was visible, and made a beautiful backdrop. It was almost 5 according to the ornate clock positioned on the roughhewn mantle over the stone fireplace. Idly, Parker wondered where Mac and Veronica were. She'd expected them an hour ago.
Before she could let her imagination conjure up nightmarish scenarios, Parker's cousin, Mia, sidled up to her. They caught each other up with what was going on in their busy lives. Mia was married with two kids who were only fifteen months apart. She liked to joke that counting her husband it was like raising three kids. Parker had selected a spot on the couch that afforded her the best view of the front door. She continued to watch as the rest of the ladies arrived.
Paige joined them on the couch with an arsenal of three full bottles of the champagne. She placed them on the coffee table in front of her, within easy reach. She made sure Parker's glass stayed full, it was part of her job description for the weekend after all.
Each time the door opened, and a new member of the party arrived, Parker looked up. Still no sign of Mac and Parker. Fortunately, the steady supply of champagne keeping her glass full kept those horror scenarios her imagination usually spun, at bay. She finally figured their flight was just delayed, or something. That happened all the time.
Parker looked out the window at the view of the lake below, and the mountains beyond. It was such a gorgeous vista. Her attention got pulled back to her friends and family surrounding her on the couch and chairs framing the living room, Mia was animatedly describing the time her kids decided the family dog—a bull mastiff—made a better canvas for their art work than paper did. He just sat there patiently as the kids painted his fawn-colored fur purple, green, pink, and dayglo orange. They even earned some doggie kisses of appreciation for their masterpiece. Everyone laughed; Mia was the only one who had kids, so her strange life was endlessly entertaining.
Thirty minutes later Paige was replenishing the stockpile of champagne bottles on the coffee table from the seemingly endless cases she'd procured for the entire weekend. She and Mac (maid and matron of honor respectively) had split the outrageously expensive cost of seven cases of the bubbly, two 2 cases of red wine, one case of white, and big bottles of vodka, bourbon gin, and tequila. It was important to be prepared. The weekend was already shaping up to be an expensive one, despite the fact it had barely began. Everyone had split the cost of the house and all of the food that was now packed away in the massive, cooks-paradise gourmet kitchen. Paige reached over and grabbed the bottle of champagne Mia had just opened—the fifth bottle in like 2 hours, not that she was calculating—and refilled Parker's glass with it before topping her own flute.
"So, where's this famous Mac I've heard so much about but never actually met in the flesh?" Paige inquired.
"On her way, I imagine," Parker asked before taking a big sip of her champagne.
"They'd better hurry up, or there might not be any alcohol left," Paige teased. She got up to go into the adjacent kitchen to start heating up some of the appetizers she'd bought for their cocktail hour.
***/***/***/***/***/***/***/
"Just admit it, we're lost," Mac said turning to give Veronica a quick glance. She felt like she was on repeat, it must have been by conservative estimate the 85th time she said that.
"Not lost, just a little turned around," Veronica quickly replied. Evidently she was on repeat, too.
Mac turned back towards the window to once again watch for the street sign proclaiming the mythical Lake Vista Drive. Maybe the Easter Bunny was lounging there too, sipping a pina colada, she though snarkily, thinking of Dick's crack from that morning comparing veggie bacon to the fictional Easter Bunny.
"They'll be out of champagne by the time we get there, if we ever do. I bet they'll find our cold, frozen bodies on the side of the road, so close yet so far away," Mac grumped. "The headline will say in big bold letters, they could have been saved by technology if only the stubborn bullheaded driver would have pulled over to let the navigator fish out her iPhone outfitted with the best GPS tracking money can buy. We'll have our twenty minutes of fame—because face it, this story would be too juicy for just fifteen—but we'll be too dead to capitalize."
"My Mac never cared about fame," Veronica retorted.
"It's mainly just notoriety I don't want to partake in," she clarified. "So, we've been driving up and down this same stretch of road for the past hour. Pull the fuck over now, so I can get my fucking phone. We are so fucking lost."
Veronica gave her best gal pal the side eye. She was smart enough to know if Mac was dropping the f-bomb rather than her usual "frak" then things were serious. Taking a quick glance out the rear-view mirror she saw that no one else was behind them, so she signaled and pulled off to the side of the two-lane road. "Okay, I might have put a little too much faith in internet directions. We might be a little more than just turned around," Veronica finally acquiesced.
"Lost!" Mac snapped.
"Okay, we're lost," Veronica quietly admitted.
"What was that?"
"You heard me," she gifted Mac with a glare.
Mac just laughed and got out of the car. Reluctantly, Veronica reached down to pull on the trunk release. It popped open and Mac retrieved the black messenger bag containing her laptop. She got back into the car, plopped the bag on her lap and dug around. Triumphantly, she pulled out her phone and reached over to grab the paper with the hastily scrawled directions and plugged in the address of the lake house.
Suri's robotic voice filled the car.
Mac laughed at Vee's rude finger gesture when she was ordered to go 1.5 miles to Route 55. Thank goodness for technology! At least Suri knew that the real name for Lake Vista Road was Route 55. Maybe she'd finally get that glass of champagne she'd been dreaming of all day. And best of all, she didn't even have to Jedi Mind Trick Parker to find the house. There was a reason Mac bowed down to technology, unlike people, it never let her down.
TBC…