The Mommy Mysteries Collection #2: Mac Jones: Short Story Collection, #2

By D.K. Greene

Mackenzie "Mac" Jones is shaking up the playground.

 

Mac is pulling the collar up on her fuzzy robe, shifting her fedora to a rakish angle, and getting down to business in this collection of five shorts. These cozyish mysteries will take you from the schoolyard to family dinner in stand-alone tales filled with family, humor, and love.

 

You'll find missing pie and smuggled stowaways while laughing as Mac fights to keep her cool.

 

This collection includes:

Pipeline

Recess and Riots

To Catch a Tooth Fairy

Pilfered Pie

Jungle Bungle

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.K. Greene
• Release date: Feb 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393784869

D.K. Greene

D.K. Greene writes at a small folding table below a tiny window overlooking a narrow street. While her work area is small, she has an overwhelmingly large imagination. It all comes out in strings of stories about family, fraud, and fatal events. Readers can get an insider's look at her upcoming projects, promotions and free stories by going to https://www.subscribepage.com/dkgreene

Book preview

Mac Jones

Short Story Collection #2

By D.K. Greene

Copyright ©Denise Kawaii as D.K. Greene

All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced or duplicated in any format, including electronic or mechanical means, without the expressed written permission from the author. To contact the author for permissions, e-mail [e-mail].

First Edition, February 2021

Cover art created in collaboration with

Table of Contents

Dedication

Pipeline

Recess and Riots

To Catch a Tooth Fairy

The Pilfered Pie

Jungle Bungle

What to Read Next

About the Author

Dedication

To my beautiful wife, who has supported these ridiculous stories since the very beginning.

Pipeline

Saturday

C an Grant stay the night? Robby asked with round, puppy-dog eyes. Long lashes fanned over his glassy eyes in a way that would make most mothers melt.

We haven’t played with him in a long time. We miss him! Ryan added with a Cheshire smile. His lashes batted, too, but the effect was saturated with villainous intent.

Mac set her book beside her on the couch cushion. You see him every day at school.

Hanging out at school isn’t fun, Mom. There’s too much learning. We want to hang out and have fun. Ryan put his hands on his hips, which did nothing for his shady appearance.

Too much learning, you say? Mac ran her fingers through her hair as she considered her charges. What will you do during this party of slumber?

The boys shifted their attention to one another. They twitched and writhed in a silent conversation that required a level of creative body language interpretation Mac had yet to master. Robby flung his arms in wild gestures, and Ryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. When their mimed conversation ended, Ryan looked up with the wild gaze of a child about to get lost in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

We’ll play board games, read, whisper to one another... you know, quiet stuff.

A snort ripped through Mac’s ladylike features. Quiet? You two haven’t been quiet since the day you were born... unless you’re in trouble. She narrowed her eyes. Do you plan on being in trouble?

No, ma’am, Robby insisted. We’ll be good, promise.

Mac leaned into the sofa’s cushions and searched for holes in the boys’ plan. I don’t think I’ve met Grant’s parents. I’m not sure they’re going to want their kid staying the night with a bunch of weirdos they don’t know.

We’re not weirdos! Ryan insisted, trembling with fury. He was like a rocket, ready to blast off; an invisible bubble of energy ready to rupture after staying in one place too long.

His mom said it’s fine already, Robby announced.

Mac lifted her eyebrow’s arch in suspicion. She did? When was this permission granted? I have seen no dossier of agreement.

We’re not going to dossier, Mom, Robby said with a frown. We only square dance in P.E.

Grant asked yesterday after school. His mom said he could, Ryan announced. His brother took two steps backward and nodded in agreement.

I’ll call her. Need to cover our bases, make sure we know what’s expected of us. When do you want this slumber party to happen?

Tonight, Ryan blurted out. Robby elbowed him in the side.

Any time would be great, Mom, Robby said in a tone smoother than his brother’s. But Grant’s mom said he could come over tonight... if it was okay with you.

Why didn’t you ask me about this yesterday? She didn’t expect an answer. Spontaneity had never been Mac’s strong suit. She wanted to know what was coming, when, how ugly it would be, and how quickly she could get out of it. But she also knew if she caved in, allowing this anti-slumber night to take place, she’d be able to lock her husband in a room for some R-rated entertainment while the boys distracted themselves.

The boys ran off, though they didn’t go far. She could feel their eyes on her as she dragged her cellphone from her robe pocket and scrolled through her contacts. Mac crawled down the screen, one thumb-swipe at a time, until she hit the bottom of the list. Though she couldn’t find the number, she knew she’d gotten the kid’s parent’s contact information. The teachers had coerced everybody into adding themselves to a class emergency list. The school said it was to ensure it would be easier to handle parent outreach during an emergency. It felt more like an involuntary responsibility to Mac.

Her thumb reversed course, dragging the screen in the opposing direction. A small voice trickled into the room. Her name’s Sarah Row.

Thank you, oh mysterious sprite! Mac called toward the phantom voice. She found the number in question and soon the phone was ringing in her ear.

Hello? a woman’s voice answered.

Hi there. My name is Mac Jones. I’m one of Ryan and Robby’s parental units. Is this Mrs. Row? She looked toward the source of the sprightly voice. A small, round face disappeared around the corner.

It is.

My boys just informed me they’d spoken to you this morning––

The Row woman cut her off mid-sentence. Yes! Oh, I was so glad when the boys said you’d take him. We’ve really been having a hard time of it. We’re at our wits’ end! When can we bring him by?

It took Mac a minute to digest the woman’s exuberance. She knew what it was like to need a break from kids for a night, but this woman seemed all too eager to abandon her child with a stranger. What kind of demon spawn did she live with? We don’t usually do things so spur of the moment, but the boys asked nicely, and I figure it will keep them occupied for a while, you know? I’m sure you won’t mind the night off, too.

We’ll be glad for it, though we’ll probably spend the free time shampooing the carpets. He’s made quite a mess over here. Sarah gasped, then her words tumbled over one another. Not that he’ll make a mess of your house! You’ve got two boys to manage him. That should keep him busy and out of your hair.

The confused and dubious frown that had been forming on Mac’s face pulled the corners of her mouth tighter. What was this lady’s deal? Her kid couldn’t be that bad. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Most kids were better behaved for strangers than for their own parents, anyway. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.

Great, Mrs. Row said with a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, Mac had scrawled the details of their after-hours meeting. It would be dark by the time the kid showed up on her doorstep. Plenty of time to raptor-proof the house. She cleared her throat, sure her crew was listening nearby. Okay, boys. Your friend won’t be here until eight. We have three hours to get this place clean enough for company.

I cleaned my room! Ryan shouted as he bounded into view.

Mine’s done, too! Robby hollered.

Something about their enthusiasm didn’t feel right. They’d been excited to have friends over before, but never eager enough to do housework without a bribe. Mac decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Which of your rooms is he going to sleep in?

Mine! the partners cried in unison. Dark clouds covered their features as their competitive natures grabbed hold. Before Mac asked a followup question, the two children started bickering. While Grant’s mother spoke of him like a three-headed ogre, Ryan and Robby seemed to think he was made of ice cream.

With no end to the kids’ argument in sight, Mac pushed the two debaters apart, breaking up the dispute. How about we pick a neutral place to hold this shindig? Help me clean up the living room and you can stay the night out here.

Her young crew looked at one another with harrowed expressions. Robby slouched his shoulders and groaned with defeat. Fine. We’ll sleep in Ryan’s room.

Ryan pumped his fists in the air and stomped his feet in celebration. He’d always been a bit of a showboat. As he wiggled his tushy and knocked his knees together, it was clear this moment wouldn’t be an exception. Mac’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. You still have to help me clean the living room.

Her subordinates groaned in complaint about the extra chores. All it took was a quick reminder that without the work, their friend would have to stay home, and they transformed from back-alley moochers to jovial janitors in a flash.

The evening moved on without incident. Even dinner was a breeze. Mac normally struggled to get either youngster to eat well-rounded cooking, but tonight they each cleaned their plate without protest. They’d gotten along so well, Mac and Sam had their own private conversation after the pair had cleared the table.

What’s got into them? Sam inquired. His eyebrows crawled across his forehead with the same suspicious fervor Mac had felt earlier in the evening.

They’ve got a friend coming to stay the night, she answered with a mischievous grin. They’re going to hole up in Ryan’s room for the evening. You know what that means?

Sam’s eyes widened, and his smile stretched from ear to ear. Movies with foul language, sex, and violence?

You got it, partner. Mac raised a hand and Sam smacked it in a victorious high-five. Your assignment is to find us the most gruesome film available. My only stipulation is there are no trains, talking dinosaurs, or heroic dogs involved.

Pleasure at the prospect of freedom coursed through Mac’s veins as Sam leapt from his chair. He looked as giddy as a bank robber in an open vault as he unlocked the parental controls and took to sorting through the murder and mayhem.

The moment the doorbell rang, the boys flew out the door. By the time Mac tied up her robe and found her slippers, they were already unloading the car at the curb. Grant’s mom and dad trundled up the walk, leaving the boys digging around in the backseat.

Hey, there. Mac raised a hand in greeting. She felt Sam approach from behind. He flipped the porch light on, brightening the Rows’ smiling faces and casting the world beyond them in shadow.

It had been months, but now that Grant’s parents were standing on her stoop, Mac remembered them from a school fundraiser meeting earlier in the year. The pair were as skittish as they were enthusiastic. Dark circles under their eyes told of sleepless nights. Frizzy strands of Mrs. Row’s hair escaped her ponytail. The hem of Mr. Row’s button-down had come untucked, making him appear more disheveled than Mac remembered him.

Hey, you two, Sarah said with a wave. You remember my husband, Mark?

Sure do. How have you been? Sam reached around Mac to shake Mr. Row’s hand.

It’s been rough, but things are looking up, Mark said with a tired smile. Thanks again. When Sarah told me you were taking him, I was so relieved. We’ve been at our wit’s end, trying to figure out what to do with him.

Sam