Page 56 of Robin and Marian
The McLaren Spider was the work of an uncreative mind, since Robin had just thrown the name out there once when they were kids and Guy had picked up on it, but he was impressed with the Engler F.F. It was a cherry red motorcycle Lamborghini hybrid. He got caught in front of it, and Marian tugged on his hand. “Are we going to do this?”
“Let me… give me a moment.” He tried to take it all in. “It’s been a while. You know this thing can go up to 217 miles per hour?”
She came between him and the Engler F.F., hanging onto his neck to look up into his eyes. He loved the way she studied his face when she smiled, so different from the stilted girl she’d been four days ago. “How fast canyourPorsche go?”
That was enough to make him part ways with the Engler F.F. The Porsche was his for tonight, and so was her company. The valet sat on a tall stool in a booth watching TV. They collected the keys from him and found the sports car. It was a glossy, sleek yellow convertible, but as they got closer he stopped short when he saw Tuck already sitting on the leather seats, eating a sandwich. A beautiful redhead lounged in the seat next to him on the driver’s side. Tuck had a girl? “That’s just not right,” Robin muttered.
Tuck was out of his larping clothes and he wore some odd slouch t-shirt and checkered suspenders and ugly short shorts like he’d turned into a hick—it must be some edgy, counterculture thing. “Who are you supposed to be now?” Robin asked, coming to the driver’s side where the girl sat. “Uncle Franco, or…?”
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Tuck took a bite of his sandwich and handed it off to his lady friend, who finished it off.
“I thought you’d be hanging out with the sheriff?” Robin was surprised his voice held some jealousy.
“He gave me the night off.” Robin wasn’t sure whether Tuck was serious or not. “What are you doing?”
“We’ll be taking the car you’re sitting in—and not with you, so clear out.”
Tuck was surprisingly compliant about it. He probably wanted to try the other cars out anyway, and for some reason everyone let him do whatever he wanted. He licked off his fingers and swiveled to Marian, who leaned on the door at his side. His eyes veered to her purse and he looked up at the sky. “Please, Lord, lead us not into temptation.”
Robin’s head snapped up at that. “Watch your purse, Marian!”
“Tuck, you’d better not…” she let out a grunt when Tuck rammed open the door in the middle of her words and edged past her with a gracious bow.
“My lady.”
The redhead slid out from Robin’s side, giggling up at him. “I have to say I’m a little star struck,Robin Hood. I’ve got all your posters at home!”
Posters? From the movies, or? Robin looked over at Marian. “Check your wallet,” he warned.
“Or your notebook.” Tuck handed it to her. “Useless. What else do you got in there?” He shuffled through her bag and she pushed him away, looking a little harried. Tuck laughed. “Sorry!” He opened the door for her and leaned on it after she took his place in the Porsche. “Can you pick me up some ice cream? Choco-muffo-beans if they have it.”
“They don’t,” Robin said. He pushed down on the garage door opener so they could escape these two. It was an aluminum panel with light-filtering glass, and it slid open silently. He stepped on the gas so he and Marian could leave everyone behind in the dust, though not as fast as he’d like with the crowds of people in the road coming to see the bands. A few of them he recognized.
He leaned his arm with the cast out the open window and guided the steering wheel with the edges of his fingers. He didn’t have the use of his thumb, but driving one-handed was still doable.
The road was crowded, and the parking was backed up at least a mile up the hill. They finally broke past that, and Robin sped up, looking over at Marian. Her hair whipped behind her. She played with the wind on her hands, and he reached out and stole one of them. “Let’s get out of here and break some laws,” he said.
“You’d better not.” But to make up for her harsh rules, Marian leaned over the console to kiss him. Well, she tried to, but the console was too big, and her seatbelt tugged her back. He reached over and clicked off her seatbelt, and she screamed and put it back on like she’d narrowly missed death. He chuckled under his breath. He had no idea what secluded outlook he’d take her to, but wherever it was, he vowed to overcome that console.
They were on a country road, halfway into town, when he spotted a black, broken-down Chevrolet Impala on the side of the road. Someone with a ponytail sat on the hood of it, a toddler next to her.
He slowed down and recognized who it was. “Sierra?” She’d been in the graduating class a few years before Robin’s. She’d always been sweet to him, even when he’d been an annoying and awkward teenager. Sierra straightened when she saw him and wiped at her eyes. She’d been crying.
Driving up to her car, he saw she was also very pregnant. “Are you all right?”
Her eyes widened when she recognized him, and then she shook her head, hiding her face. “No, no, go away.”
“Sierra? What’s going on?” He parked and got out of his car to see what he could do to help. “It’s Robin.”
“I know who you are,” she said in a stony voice. “Leave me alone.”
Marian’s face turned concerned. There wasn’t cell phone service here; they were completely stranded. Robin looked over at the sweet, curly-haired child with her. The tire was flat. An easy fix. “I’ve got a tire in the back.”
He went to inspect the tire, but he must’ve gotten too close. Sierra drew back her hand and slapped him, and he reared back at the sting. He was pretty sure she’d gotten her nails in there. He hadn’t expected that. By the looks of things, she was just as shocked by what she’d done, and it started her tears again. “I said leave!”
He rubbed at his smarting cheek. “You don’t like me. I get it, but let me help you!”
“Oh, because you’re some kind of hero? Is that what you think you are?” She hugged herself, no longer attempting to stop her tears. “I only have two days before I lose my home, Robin. Where am I supposed to go? My husband is working out of town. How am I supposed to tell him?”
