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Treasa and I rode in my white truck Marina, while Little Elen and her twin—Liliana-Lee—followed in Treasa’s Suburu. I drove too fast, too busy discussing and chatting with Brit to notice that I’d lost Little Elen and Liliana-Lee. Treasa and I talked of lily ponds and Olympia’s Marina.

Treasa called them (when we realized we’d lost the younger sisters).

“You what?!” Treasa says over the phone. Then she bursts out laughing.

I move over to the slow lane and go five under the speed limit so they can catch up.

Treasa says goodbye over the phone.

I’m dying here.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice thick with anticipated laughter.

“Well, they followed the wrong truck—right off the freeway. It pulled into a gas station. That’s when they saw there was a dead elk in the back—not your truck.”

We laugh—very heartily.

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