Prodigal Blues by Gary A. Braunbeck

He's a bit put-out with both you and some guy named Cletus.   You tell Cletus I said 'Good for you.'   Perry's probably still trying to put out the fire in his ear hair— nobody calls my man the names he called you.   And, no, we're not paying him for repairs or hauling costs or any of it.   He's also going to pay us back for your motel room and the tow and the car rental, which he's none-too-happy about—doesn't that just tug at your heart strings?   My guess is he's whining to Mom and Dad about it right now, but it won't do him any good—I was always the favorite.
    "I'm really sorry that this happened to you, sweetie.   But at least you were lucky enough to find out before you had a serious accident.   Edna tells me that everybody there's really taken with you.   They sound like a great bunch of folks.   By the way, I promised her that you'd make sure to get her cookie recipe before you leave, so don't forget.   I've got to run some errands before heading over to Columbus to pick up Gayle and the kids— somebody wants me to buy him a cell phone, wonder why—so I probably won't be home when you get this… just make sure you call me back tonight, okay?   I don't care how late it is, you call me .
    "By the way, I was so naked when you called.   And still wet from the shower.   Should've seen me.   Water trickling between my boobs and pooling near my belly button.   It was really hot.   And I was talking to my brother instead of you.   That's just wrong .   Oh, well…."
    I called her back immediately and got the voicemail.
    "You are not going to believe what just happened to me; suffice to say that it involves many witnesses, television news crews, and the State Police.   I'm not kidding, pinkie-swear.   I'm not in trouble, so don't worry.   Give everyone a hug and kiss from me—except Perry, who may be facing some criminal charges when I get home.   I'll call you later tonight with all the details.   I love you.   I miss you."   I tried to think of something lascivious to say but couldn't, so I just hung up, then sat on the edge of the bed and let everything finally register… and that's when it occurred to me that I hadn't asked Denise
    ( told you it wasn't a stunt! )
    about who she'd been traveling with.   Aside from Denise herself, the driver of the butter dishes was whom the police would most need to speak with.
    I washed my hands and face; the cold water felt great and the motel soap was vanilla-scented.   Tanya used vanilla soap.   It made me miss her all the more.
    I was drying off when I heard a knock on the door—not the door to my room, the door in my room.
    The groovy decorator who'd done this room must have had an even more far-out buddy who designed the building, because this was the first time in over a decade that I'd been in a motel room that actually had connecting doors between rooms.
    "Yes?" I said to the door.
    "I have your supper here, Mr. Sieber," said a rough, sandy voice.   "Muriel had us reheat it.   I have fresh pie and some of Edna's cookies for you, too."
    I grabbed the latch, which was stuck.   While I fiddled with it, I asked the waitress,   "Why are you delivering it like this?"
    She laughed.   "There are reporters all over the place.   Edna has got a passkey—"   A nasty series of coughs erupted from her chest.   "—sorry.   Edna has a passkey she used to let me in.   I came in through number ten and just used the connecting doors to get here.   You know—so no reporters would see."
    The latch started to give, much to my stomach's joy.   "Pretty clever.   I wouldn't have thought of that."   And I wouldn't have.   "Listen, when you get back, do me a favor?"   The latch came free and I swung open the door.   "Tell Muriel that I forgot to mention—"
    I never finished.   Whatever hit me felt like it had been dropped from somewhere near Jupiter and caught a ride on a bolt of lightning.   I remember feeling my entire body locking up as my