Free The Christmas Joy Ride by Melody Carlson

pointed at Joy’s brightly decorated RV. “That your rig?”
    â€œWell, it’s my friend’s. Joy Jorgenson. Like I said, she’s elderly—almost eighty-six. I’m helping her with this, uh, trip.”
    â€œWell, I’ve seen some crazy-looking RVs before, but this might be the wildest one yet.” She grinned. “I like it.”
    Miranda relaxed a bit, explaining about the Christmas Joy Ride and Joy’s website contest. “And we’re going on Route 66—all the way from Chicago to Phoenix anyway. It was Joy’s dream to do Route 66 in her motor home. Kind of like a bucket list, you know?”
    May nodded. “Well, good for her. And good for you too.” May jerked her thumb toward a golf cart. “How ’bout I meet you at space 9 and we’ll see if we can get your rig to take a dump?” She laughed louder.
    By the time Miranda got back into the driver’s seat, Joy was back in the bedroom. “If you’re ready,” she called out, “I’m taking off. Hang on!”
    Joy gave her the go-ahead, and since May was already leading the way, which was helpful since it was just starting to get dark, Miranda cautiously took off.
    They quickly found space 9 and May helped Miranda get parked. Then Miranda hurried to the side of the RV where May had already turned on an exterior light that Miranda didn’t know existed. Now, outfitted in her yellow rubber gloves, May was tugging a large hose from one of the holds.
    â€œWhy don’t you hook up the fresh water while I do this,” May called over her shoulder. “That way we can flush the system once we’re done here.”
    After May got the big hose situated, she explained the various valves and why you pulled the black one first and the gray one second, and several other things that went right over Miranda’s head. Sometimes this RV stuff felt like visiting a new planet.
    Miranda tried not to cringe at the aroma of sewage as May pulled the “black water” valve. But her respect for May had grown significantly. This was nasty work and this tough gal wasn’t complaining—or even swearing.
    â€œIt’s really nice of you to help me with this,” Miranda said meekly, looking on as May released the “gray water” valve.
    â€œHelps to have these gloves.” May held up a hand. “You should get some too if you plan to do this yourself next time. We got some in the store by the office.”
    â€œYes, I’ll definitely do that.”
    After about fifteen minutes, the tanks were emptied, the big smelly hose was rinsed and put away, and the water and electric were all hooked up. Miranda looked over the setup with a sense of relief and victory.
    â€œThank you so much,” Miranda said as she trailed May back to her golf cart. She watched with admiration as the can-do woman peeled off the rubber gloves and tossed them in a bucket.
    â€œNo problem.”
    Now May grabbed a bottle of disinfecting hand cleaner, squirted some on, and started to vigorously rub. “Never can be too careful, you know.”
    â€œYeah, I’ll bet.”
    â€œAnd when you go inside, make sure you put some tank conditioner into your toilet.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œAsk your friend if she’s got some. If not, you better come by the store and pick some up before we close at six. Keeps the smell down. You might need some of this too.” She tossed the disinfectant into the cart and climbed in.
    â€œGood idea.” Miranda nodded eagerly. “Now if you can wait just a minute, I have something for you.” She dashed back into the motor home. “Okay if I give the manager a cookie plate?” she called out as she did a quick hand-washing herself.
    â€œCertainly,” Joy called from the bathroom. “Please do!”
    Miranda grabbed a big cookie plate and hurried back out to present it to May.
    â€œWell, this is