Early Spring 1996, Roseberry, Idaho
MJ meditates. She does therapy, too, but getting out of her head and into the present moment makes her feel more whole, safe, and capable. She sorts through things like Angel sinking into Blue Lake in Red’s truck. Or things like Red’s body hiding under Aunt K’s rose hedge. Or MB’s insistence that MJ’s “dramatic” missing-persons parents ruined the Historical Society’s chance to obtain a land trust for the festival. Or like her—real—feelings for Lucky.
As she stands outside the Roseberry Church, she tunes out and tunes in while waiting for Kara to pick her up.
Meditation helps her get clear. And surprising intuitions pop up. Like that Angel abandoning her isn’t different from other times: It isn’t MJ’s fault. And, MJ might not be a murderer. Angel took a crack at him, too. Aunt K saw Red last. Aunt K buried him.
MJ gazes across melting fields, sun bright and glaring with cold moisture rising. The evergreens are blue-gray today. Is that a blue jay of happiness? She squints at cobalt wings fluttering to land in a tree.
Lucky startles her, pulling up with his window down. “Hey MJ, need a ride next week?”
He gets out of the white truck and walks over.
“Giving more rides in government vehicles?” MJ calls, smirking.
Lucky grins as he closes in. “My aunt’s car is in the shop. I think I mentioned before, no one says ‘no’ to Sarah Nash. Not even the government.”
MJ sees Aunt K’s Subaru a quarter-mile away. Lucky will leave the pullout since everyone knows Kara avoids parking at Historical Society Meetings.
She decides fast. “Sure, that would be helpful.”
MJ sizes up Lucky. She fidgets with her bag’s strap. It’s clear Sarah isn’t pressuring him to give her a ride this time. And, instead of his usual, puppy dog look, his gaze pierces hers. She warms.
He smiles.
She licks her lips, thinking of something to say.
He blushes.
She looks down, a grin threatening to undermine her cool, collected, mature, non-felony appearance.
Her inner voice screams: Think of something, MJ! “Um, do you want to join us? I mean, meditating? I’m sure the teacher would…”
“Oh, um yeah, I like meditating…” He glances to Kara who is preparing to pull in behind his truck. Sarah is at the church door, her back to them, talking avidly to the ladies.
MJ tips her head. “You don’t really meditate, do you.”
“Nah.” He gives her the puppy look finally, then meets her eyes. “But I’ll try. I might just need some… sustenance… afterward.”
Her heart skips a beat she imagines luscious kisses standing in the last inch of snow by the river.
“I meant pizza?” He adds quickly to cover the unintentional double entrendre.
MJ takes a deep breath. “I’d love that. Pick me up at 2? Don’t forget a hat.” She adds when he seemed confused, “It gets cold meditating outside.”
*
Lucky is taking FOREVER while chatting up MJ and opening the truck door for Sarah. Slow as molasses in March!
Kara honks—“move it!”—then suddenly turns to the church. Like a mini explosion, Sarah pops out the door and rushes out of MB’s way. The old dragon bustles down the walk with Joy latched onto her forearm.
Kara turns off the radio. MB is pausing as Joy taps her on the shoulder. Twice and hard. Kara gasps. She’s never seen Joy invade anyone’s space.
Joy explodes, hissing loud enough for everyone to hear. “We need the festival and attention. You may not understand marketing, but don’t forget I spent years in Silicon Valley. This town will die without fundraising events! And we don’t want developers telling us what to do. Sure, they might renovate a building or two, but if they build a ski village here, next it’s cabins, condos, and resorts. No more farmers’ fields, no more trees, no more Roseberry. Don’t sell out, Mary Beth… Mary Beth!”
MB shakes Joy off and speed-walks to the back parking lot. Her mouth flat lines. Joy is shaking with anger but slowly makes her way to her car behind the church.
Sarah Nash’s mouth hangs open.
Kara’s jaw tightens. Of course. This would be why MB tried to sway Kara against hosting the music festival. And, she blamed everything that went wrong on MJ! How’d you like that!
Kara looks over as MJ is sliding into Kara’s passenger seat. MJ’s daydreaming. She doesn’t notice the scene on the church steps. She didn’t wait for Kara to pull forward either, just walked in the road.
Kara gives MJ a sidelong glance. The girl is staring into blue skies, lips parted like a sigh. Lucky is loading a shocked Sarah into his truck, then he pulls away.
Kara knows how to get MJ’s attention. “Looks like we’re hosting a rock n’ roll concert. How are you going to make it happen, MJ?”
The girl turns slowly. “What?”
*
March 1996, Cascade, Idaho
Lucky bought pizza after meditation.
“I’ll get this!” Was all he said when the cashier asked who was paying.
While he dug into his Carhartt pocket, the cashier smiled at MJ.
“Thank you, Lucky.” MJ grabbed two plates and two glasses before navigating to a red and white checkered table.
He tucked his wallet into the back pocket before sitting. Then he leaned onto forearms as she tried to think of small talk.
He said, “What do you want to do? In the future.”
MJ sipped her Coke, wishing she had a smoke—either kind—to take the edge off her nervousness. But she also knows Lucky doesn’t like smoking.
“Go back to school?” She sips up sweet bubbly liquid courage. Not bad for sugar. “But I didn’t declare a major before withdrawing.” she paused. “So I guess I’m still deciding.”
He nodded, gripping his plastic cup. She appreciated that he didn’t get a beer when she couldn’t.
She nodded to him. “What did you choose? In school?”
He perked up. “An MS in Archaeology. My bachelor was Geology.”
She nearly spat her Coke. “You have a Master’s?”
“Went straight through except seasonal work for the Forest Service. I’ll return for a PhD someday.”
She sighed out of confusion. They weren’t anything alike!
“Wow, I mean, that’s like 10 years of education, right?”
“Yep.” He looked a little disappointed. “You don’t see the value in it, do you? I get it. Who knows if I’ll ever be able to pay off those loans.”
He snorted. She grabbed his hand. He grew silent, watching her fingers slide into his.
She said, “It’s not that I don’t think it’s worth it, I just never imagined being able to do anything like that myself. I think it’s amazing you’re doing it.” She squeezed his hand.
He gulped, then eyed her intensely. “Want to get out of here?”
She laughed. “No! We haven’t gotten the pizza yet. And I’m really hungry!”
His leg twitched under the table, and their toes touched. His hand tightened on hers. She laughed until he joined her in laughing like children until the pizza was delivered.
*
June 1996, Bruneau Sand Dunes, Idaho
In MJ’s tent, she sighs out sexual frustration.
Her eyes are on her tent ceiling. She stargazes through the tent portal, unable to sleep with Lucky lying just feet away in his own tent.
Waits.
Is there any chance Lucky will “knock” on her tent door in the middle of the night?
That night—really their first date, she realizes—they made out in an alley of Cascade.
*
March 1996, Cascade, Idaho
He watched her since she started eating greasy pizza slices as if she teased him with ambrosia, not tomato paste.
Before they returned to his parked truck, on the other side of the pool hall, she pointed into the alley.
“Oh, what’s that? Looks like a lost kitten!”
He followed her into the alley. “Where?” He stripped off his flannel and folded it the long way, preparing to wrap up a kitten.
She turned, grabbed his hand, and pulled him in.
“Here, Lucky. I’m the lost kitten.”
His eyes softened at her. She nodded. “About as lost as they come.”
His eyes fell to her parted lips. Her fingers intertwined with his, squeezing, encouraging. Her snow boots parted slightly, solid on compact snow. She’d squared off to him. A challenge shaped her expression but something caused her lower lip to tremble.
He dove in.
Backed her up against the brick wall. His mouth landed squarely on her parted, hungry mouth, and they were kissing.
She noted the tingles driving from her lower belly to the groin and into her thighs. She questioned whether his hand—flat on the brick wall beside her shoulder—would get grimy. She analyzed his delicious technique of exploring her lips and mouth. Then she gave up thinking and became present.
She grabbed him, and he flattened her with his body, his passion amplifying, if that was possible. He left her breathless. This was no playboy in a mansion. Lucky was a real man…
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