Read Online Sisterchicks on the Loose by Robin Jones Gunn - Free Book Online

I’m coming right now.”
    I still can’t believe I did this, but I had no choice. I put on my wet bra and slipped the rancid, damp shirt over my head. Unlocking the door, I made my way back to the center seat with my head down, certain that every eye in that part of the plane was fixed on me. Every nose was probably fixed on me as well.
    Poor Penny! The look on her face! She turned away from me, staring out the window as I gave an abbreviated explanation.
    I swallowed hard and tried to take tiny breaths. My tongue had swollen from when I bit it right before Junior was sick all over me. I could feel a cold, wet stream zigzagging across my middle and soaking the waistband of my jeans.
    The man in the seat directly in front of me stretched to glare at me over the top of his seat.
    “I know,” I murmured in a tiny voice. “I’m sorry. This isn’t exactly pleasant for me either.”
    Our takeoff was terrifying. The plane seemed to be flapping oversize, weary wings as we rose into the air. We bucked a dozen air pockets, rising and falling like a ship at sea.
    Penny grabbed for the bag in her seat pocket and held it up to her mouth and nose. She didn’t get sick, but I’m sure she felt she was about to.
    We landed in Helsinki at 7:20 P.M . Without a word, Penny and I walked into the terminal and went directly to the rest room.
    “Here.” Penny wheeled her suitcase into the first open stall before I could grab some wet paper towels. “Anything you want to wear is yours.”
    I found a new sympathy for my daughter.
So this is how Kaylee felt when I told her she could wear one of my blouses to the school choir performance
.
    Penny’s underwear was large on me. Not too large. Just loose and funny feeling. The bra and panties were, however, silky black and a far superior quality to anything I ever owned.
    The larger size of her clothes didn’t matter because I opted for a baggy pair of sweatpants and a yellow sweater that were easy to pull out of the suitcase.
    With my soiled clothes in a wad, I exited the stall to see a line of women waiting. Penny stood near the sinks. “You are going to throw those away, aren’t you?”
    I hadn’t planned on it. I was going to ask if she had a plastic bag. Surely they sold good strong laundry detergent in Finland. I could soak these clothes back to life, if I had the right laundry soap.
    Penny moved closer when she saw me stalling. “If I’m right,” she said in a low voice, “your bra is at least eight years old, and it’s about half an inch from self-disintegrating.”
    Penny knew all too well the areas in my budget where I’d scrimped over the years to keep four growing children clothed.
    “And if I’m guessing correctly, that shirt found its way into your life in the mideighties. Its shelf life has expired, Sharon. You need to set the poor thing free.”
    Part of me was glad that Penny felt well enough to be flippant. That was a good sign. But I wasn’t too happy about her painfully accurate comments about my wardrobe.
    “I’m not trying to be mean,” Penny said quickly. “Look, you said you packed plenty of clothes. And I packed way more than I need. We should be fine with what we have until your luggage arrives. If not, we’ll go shopping and buy new clothes. Now wouldn’t that be tragic?”
    I opened the top of the trash bin, and against all my frugalinstincts, I threw away a perfectly usable set of clothes.
    “Didn’t that feel good?” Penny said.
    “No. Nothing feels good at the moment.” I pushed up the sleeves of the baggy yellow sweater and went to work washing my hands and forearms. My sticky chest and stomach would have to wait. We had an audience in line, and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
    “Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes,” I said as Penny and I followed the signs to baggage claim. The directions were in three languages, with English the last listed. I noticed how quiet the airport was.
    “Of course, you’re welcome