“Come on, Susan!” the large man bellowed, “We’re going to miss the plane!”

“For God’s sake, George, we have plenty of time to get to the airport.” answered the woman, shaking her head in disgust, “it’s a ten minute drive.”

George Fox stood impatiently in the doorway like a barricade keeping the door propped open with his shoe. His face grew red with irritation, beads of sweat began to accumulate, dripping down the wiry grey hair plastered to his sweaty forehead and onto his thick rimmed glasses. He watched as Susan bounced like a tan, middle aged bunny from appliance to appliance ensuring everything was off before finally arriving at the answering machine. She flipped the switch and took a sigh of relief. She was satisfied and ready to go.

With luggage in hand Susan sashayed toward the door then limboed under George’s arm that was firmly planted holding him up like a kickstand. In one swift move she floated down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

“Let me get those for you,” said John as he grabbed the luggage and tossed it into the back of the SUV idling in the driveway. He moved around to the passenger side and opened the door for Susan.

“What a wonderful son-in-law I have!” she smiled as she slid into her seat. The sun was shining through the car window and bouncing off of Susan’s natural ash blonde, Nice n Easy 9a/102, freshly dyed hair. She was not the type of woman to reveal her age, and was not going to be outed by her grey roots.

Sarah jumped into the driver’s seat next to her mother. George and John followed suit and climbed into the back, then they were off.

“Mom, did you pack sunscreen?” asked Sarah as she flipped through the radio stations while brushing her hair.

“Brakes!” yelled John, his foot anxiously stomping on the imaginary brake in the backseat as he saw the cars ahead of them slow down. Sarah had the tendency to inattentively multitask while driving.

“Do you wanna drive?” Sarah snapped back, glaring at him through the rearview mirror.

“That’s enough of that,” Georged chimed in, the sweat on his forehead had finally dried into a salty residue as he leaned his head close to the open window. “If you kids are going to come to Hawaii with us, there will be no arguing.”

“We’re not arguing, George,” John laughed, “I just wanna get there in one piece.” John laid his head back and closed his eyes. It was easier to keep his mouth shut if he could avoid seeing his wife weaving erratically through traffic.

“Do you ever think your sister is going to be alright by herself?” Susan asked Sarah, cutting her off before she could fire back at John.

“Mom, Miranda is 19 now, and she will hardly be alone. I'm sure Fulton will be with her most of the time.”

“I'm sure he will,” John whispered sarcastically from the back seat. He smiled but kept his eyes closed, avoiding the dirty look Sarah was giving him in the mirror.

“Better Fulton than Tina,” Sarah scoffed.

Fulton Lyons, or “Big Cat” as they call him at school, was Miranda’s first serious boyfriend. Although he had gone away to college Miranda’s senior year, the couple decided to stay together. Fulton was Hoke High School’s star linebacker and a starter for Varsity his Freshman year. John liked him for the most part but Sarah was very protective of her younger

sister. She didn’t want Miranda to settle down with her first serious boyfriend. She had hoped her sister’s feelings would change with Fulton away at college but she was disappointed with the outcome.

Tina Foster, on the other hand, hit a nerve with Sarah that no other of Miranda’s friends could. Tina was attractive and she knew it. Flaunting her body around, every word that came from her mouth had a flirtatious tone to it that made Sarah sick. She would see Tina hanging out at the bus stop after school, twirling around the sign pole with a half smoked cigarette hanging from her mouth as she flirted with the flock of guys gawking at her. Most of the guys at the high school have had their share of Tina. Her partying and rumored drug use made her reputation spread like wildfire.

“Well maybe I should have Harriet check on them this week,” said Susan, a bit of a concerned look was lingering on her face.

“Mom, they will be fine, don’t make Aunt Harriet take that drive if she doesn’t have to. And besides, The Fox Den is like the safest place in the whole state.”

“The Fox Den” was a “cottage” tucked deeply off the grid in the desolate backwoods of Wisconsin. The Den had been in the family for decades and was unlike your typical cottage. A conventional cottage usually consisted of one or two bedrooms, a small bathroom or outhouse, and a fireplace to stay warm. The Fox Den exceeded the normal expectations of a “cottage.” Equipped with six custom bedrooms, three bathrooms, two living rooms, a bar and a dining room, the cottage was more comparable to a mansion. Overlooking Ballinger Lake, the Fox Den sat nestled in the forest away from the world. Over the years, upgrades and remodeling had created a masterpiece. Owned by six brothers and sisters it was a surprise they could coexist.

Miranda, along with a few of her friends, decided to ask for permission to use the Den while her parents were on vacation in Hawaii with her Aunt Rachel and Uncle Campbell. George discussed the proposal with the remainder of the family. After a deliberating examination of pros and cons and persuading the rest of the family that Miranda would treat the Den with respect, the decision had been made. Miranda would be allowed to use the Den as long as Rachel and Campbell’s son, Wes, was able to use it as well without supervision.

George looked out the window, the kids are growing up, he mused and the car sped toward the airport.

Miranda examined herself in the mirror. Twirling in an attempt to see every angle she grimaced as she examined the tiny, almost unnoticeable ripples under her butt cheek. Soon she was tousling her hair, trying to get it to land perfectly in place. Her hair was slightly curly, shoulder length with a red hue. Miranda brushed it religiously. She moved closer to the mirror, examining her face like she had never seen it before. I hate how far apart my eyes are, she thought as she slowly backed up. I don’t care if Fulton says they’re “Exotic” I look like an alien. Miranda’s eyes were slightly farther apart than most people’s and although she was thin, she had ample curves, which she thought made her look fat. She twisted back around and pulled the granny panties down so the small ripples under her butt cheeks were covered.

I am such a cow.

Sighing in disgust, she turned away and quickly dressed. She pulled an oversized t-shirt over her head and slid into the dark baggy sweatpants that she pulled off the floor by her bed. Tossing similar outfits along with a modest swimsuit and pajamas into her suitcase, she forced it closed then zipped it shut. Miranda dragged the suitcase to the top of the steps then let it fall down to Fulton who was waiting at the bottom.

Fulton was wearing a matching style of outfit, his football jersey with “Big Cat” emblazoned on the back with a pair of slightly wrinkled Khaki shorts and bright white sneakers. His light brown hair was unruly as usual, almost as if he had just rolled out of bed. He had small eyes that made his head appear too large for his body despite his massive, well over 6 foot tall frame. He snatched the suitcase as it reached the bottom and waited for another.

He looked up and a smile grew on his face as Miranda appeared at the top of the steps. Her emerald green eyes staring down at him, she hopped down the steps two at a time, red hair bouncing with each skipped step. Three quarters of the way down she leapt into his arms and he caught her, spinning her around and passionately kissing her plump red lips before setting her down.

“Is everyone else here?” asked Miranda.

“Sammi and Herc have been here for awhile, Jade and Pete just pulled up and we are still waiting on Tina,” answered Fulton.

Fulton added Miranda’s suitcase to the mountain of luggage in the back of his rugged, oversized pick up. He motioned to Herc, or as the rest of the world calls him, Steve Simeons, to cover the luggage with the tarp he purchased for the trip. They covered the bags then rolled the truck bed cover over the top, snapping it into place.

“That’ll keep things dry as a bone, even if a monster snow storm hits on the way up. You guys should consider yourselves lucky to have me around.” Fulton boasted, satisfied with his work.

“Yup,” grumbled Steve sarcastically, raising his bushy brown eyebrows as he rolled his eyes at Fulton’s constant need to infer his consequential status in the group. Although Steve was similar in stature to Fulton, “Herc” being short for “Hercules,” his role was more similar to a sidekick than a partner in crime.