Page 12 of Like It's 1999

Bless her, she bites, even as she rolls her eyes. “They could even fly the plane. And land it.”

“‘Surely you can’t be serious.’”

“‘I am serious… and don’t call me Shirley.’”

This woman. I mean it’s one thing for a girl to haveSixteen Candlesmemorized. ButAirplanetoo?

Hip-checking me back to earth, she taps her watch. “Wedding day countdown has begun. We are T-minus five days. Where’s our bride-to-be?”

“Oh- ho-ho, Miss Katey Matey has got HQ running at her parents’ place.” I pull the spreadsheet Kate has created—color-coded with each person’s duties—out of my back pocket and show it to Alice. “Our girl has got everything under control.”

Alice rubs her hands together. “Giving us plenty of time to make sure our secret plan is underway.”

“Let’s get to baggage claim, and I can fill you in on where we are with that. Deb and Pam and Laura are working on it as we speak.”

She hooks her arm in mine. “No need. I didn’t check a bag.”

After shouldering the carry-on at her feet, I steer her in the direction of the parking garage. “A woman who travels light. I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

A sharp elbow jabs my side. “No sexist talk or I’ll have to go back to objectifying you.”

Despite the fact that I’d be happy to hear that kind of talk from her, I zip my lips and steer her in the direction of my rental car.

It’s a two-hour drive from the Richmond airport to the town where Kate grew up, but I’m not complaining. I get why Kate loves Alice so much. She keeps things light—a good balance for serious-minded Kate—and just has a zest for life, a phrase I never really got till I hung out with her. Like, she adds a flavorful zing to any and every activity.

“Let’s play a game,” she says, turning in her seat next to me. “You know those historical marker signs that they put up on the side of the road? Every time we see one, we make up a story about it.”

“Uh, okay.”

“I’ll go first.” We’re on a two-lane highway winding through rural Virginia. It doesn’t take long to find one. “Oh, this is a good one. Skinker’s Neck,” she reads. “So, yeah, Skinker’s Neck is the place where members of the Skinker family took their dates. To neck.”

“Oh my god,” I groan.

She swats me. “I’m not done. Now, it’s historic because of the one time that Tom Skinker talked Minnie Flooperton—the sheriff’s daughter—into necking with him. Sadly, they were caught and Tom ended up with only a neck because the sheriff shot his head”—she finishes with a major southern twang—“clean off.”

“Wow. That is very historical.”

I get “Birthplace of Madison” next and I tell a pretty good story about the birth of Dolly Madison snack cakes if I do say so myself. Next, she takes on “The Third Lederer Expedition”—so much more important than the second or fourth expeditions. By the time we get to “Assassin’s End”—which I’m pretty sure is where John Wilkes Booth died in real life—and I weave a tale of the prodigious rear end, orbooty, of a famous piratess, Alice is laughing so hard she has a coughing fit.

“You’re killing me. That is the worst pun ever,” she croaks.

“We need gas, so let’s stop and get you something to drink.”

I’m just finishing up a cigarette when Alice emerges from the store at the filling station, holding up two sodas: Nehi Grape and RC Cola.

“What’s your poison? Besides the cancer stick in your hands. Those are bad for you, you know.”

“I know. Trying to quit.”

I open both bottles with my scout knife and hand her the grape. After a clink and a sip, we jump back on the road.

Leaning her seat back, she asks, “So what is happening with the plan?”

I tell her how Laura has found a couple of locals to help us out. “Are you sure Kate’s not going to freak out about this?”

“No way. She was the mastermind of so many house pranks at Harvard; she’ll be impressed.”

“Which house were you in, again?”

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