“Actually, Myra, my mind is just fine and clicking away on all cylinders. It’s your mind I’m worried about. Now, hang on and keep quiet. One more peep out of you, and I’m going to strangle you with your own pearls. I have to concentrate on getting us to the bottom of the mountain. In case you haven’t noticed, because you were too busy minding my business, it’s snowing harder, which means there is virtually no visibility. You getting it, Myra?”

Myra thought about responding to the question but opted not to, since she had no desire to be strangled by her own pearls. She wrapped her arms around Annie’s waist and closed her mouth so tight, she thought her jaw was going to crack.

Myra thought the high-pitched whine of the snowmobile ricocheting across the mountain was equal to a dozen chain saws felling monster trees. She knew that when Annie finally brought the machine to a halt, her ears would ring for hours. She did marvel at how Annie handled the powerful machine and knew she couldn’t do it half as well. As Kathryn would say, Annie had it going on, which meant that she, Myra Rutledge, did not have it going on. She felt irritated at the thought that she wasn’t measuring up in the girls’ eyes.

And then there was silence as their conveyance came to an abrupt halt. Annie hopped off and tied her helmet to one end of the steering mechanism. “Hustle, Myra. We beat the girls! We need to break off some of these pine branches to cover the machine until someone takes it back up the mountain. You can talk now if you want to.”

“You remind me of the Gestapo, Annie. Guess what? I have nothing to say,” Myra said as she hung her helmet next to Annie’s. She immediately went to a low-hanging pine and snapped off a tiny branch. She flicked the snow at Annie and took a perverse delight in seeing her old friend falter. “Sorry,” she said sweetly.

“My ass you’re sorry, Myra. You did that on purpose. I forgive you because you are such a poop. There are times, like right now, that I don’t want to admit I know you. So there,” Annie sniped.

Wounded to the quick, Myra felt tears spring to her eyes. “I am sorry, Annie. But a pole! What will the girls think?”