Millicent Stingley rapped her peach-colored nails on the private plane’s arm rests. Craning her neck around the seat, she saw her friend, Pauley, stumble from the bathroom. The plane’s flight attendant was ignoring her so Millicent swallowed her anger, removed a twenty-dollar bill from the left cup of her bra, then displayed it to catch the woman’s attention. The petite redhead of about thirty-years-old rose and walked toward Millicent. She faked a grin, which infuriated Millicent more. She remembered the woman’s name was Cassandra.
“Cassie, can you be a dear and bring my friend and I two extra pillows, her a ginger ale with lime, some crackers, and me an whiskey sour, stiff, on the rocks.”
Cassandra snatched the twenty from Millicent and sighed like a teenaged girl as she passed by Pauley in the aisle. Pauley chuckled to herself as she squeezed past Millicent and retook her window seat after turning on the air fan above her.
“Making a new best friend, Millie?”
Millicent closed her eyes and tasted the bile in her throat. She exhaled from a deep breath and drawled.
“I only need one, Paulette. And you will do. So, how far along are you?”
Pauley frowned and knew her third trip to the plane’s bathroom since takeoff, flush cheeks and pale countenance made her look stupid for not talking more about her pregnancy news to Millicent.
“Not long, maybe 8 weeks, 9 at the most.”
Millicent leaned forward, grabbed the black ink pen and notepad in the seat pocket and jotted down information.
“When we get to Morocco, I’ll put together a remedy for the nausea, and a sleeping pill. Then we’ll go shopping for baby things. This child has to look good at all times in public.”
Pauley laughed and touched Millicent’s right arm. She knew arguing with her was pointless.
“I’ll be fine, Millie. I know you’re probably pissed I didn’t tell you right away. We had a lot to do in Brazil and I had to tell the father first. Oh and Lenore, I think. Shit, sorry about that.”
Millicent rolled her eyes and finished writing her materials list and formulas. Cassandra returned with Millicent’s order. Pauley shook her head and dropped her tray to hold the ginger ale and crackers. Millicent sipped her whiskey.
“Pauley, there’s a handwritten letter in your carry on bag. It’s for Arthur. Make sure he gets it. It’s the last time I’m making contact with him. I’ve got all the family I need in this plane. Also, I’ll have a list of proper baby names done before we land.”
Pauley smiled and felt her stomach settle.
The plane landed in Casablanca, Morocco several hours later. Millicent tracked down a cab while Pauley checked in with Stan by cell phone. Digging in her handbag for extra cash, Millicent felt a couple of the cyanide pills she’d created in Brazil. A wave of paranoia washed over her. Was this the last she’d see of her only true friend? Swallowing the off-white capsule was an option. She shook off the thought and paid the driver. Using the French Pauley had told her would work in Morocco, she cooed the instructions.
“Portez-nous à Alfirdaouss et utilisez l’itinéraire de centre-ville.”
Millicent was still staring at the pill when Pauley showed up.
“You okay, Auntie Millie?”
Millicent slid into the backseat of the cab.
“Yes, but that’s isn’t going to do. I like Aunt M, like James Bond’s boss, but cuter.”
Pauley laughed as the cab away from the airport into traffic.
The women reached their desired apartment district. As they shopped a nearby open market, Pauley saw a familiar cafe.
“Come on, let’s get some Moroccan blend!”
The sun beamed over their shoulders as Millicent prepared to pay for their cups. The cyanide pill from earlier dropped from her handbag as she removed money. Millicent handed the cash to the merchant.
“Merci, gardez le changement.”
Pauley sipped her coffee and glared at Millicent who stared at the cyanide. Without saying anything, Millicent took her three-inch heel and stomped the capsule until it was dust on the pavement. The women looked away from each other in silence. Millicent sidled up to her friend.
“Don’t worry, Paulette. When you need me, I’ll make more.”
The women turned and walked side by side into the Casablanca sun.
This is the season finale of mine and Tara aka @Tara_R ‘s Brazilian sequel to Dead Money, our serialized story about female killers Millicent and Pauley.
Please go see Tara’s chapter first at http://www.thinspiralnotebook.com
Today’s song belongs to Weezer. They’re all about irony and weirdness, just like MIllicent and Pauley. Thank you for reading. Tara and I have so much fun writing these stories. Here’s Best Friend.