to the side, leaving parts of the crowd visible in the frame. There were faces I recognized in that crowd. People I hadn’t seen in years. Not since I’d been Callie.
They were adults, now. What were their lives like? So many seemed to still be there. I caught a glimpse of Scarlett Bodine, dancing with someone. God, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Neither was Cassidy Tucker. Was that Bowie Bodine’s arm draped around her shoulders? And a woman who had to be June Tucker crossed the corner of the frame for a few seconds. She held hands with a tall, muscular guy.
How many of them were married now? Starting families? They were planting roots, and half the time I didn’t know what time zone I was in.
A tear trailed down my cheek. I missed them. The stupid box wouldn’t stay closed.
And what about Gibson? Was he with someone? Seemed crazy to think he wouldn’t be. He’d be in his thirties now. Some Bootleg girl had no doubt snatched him up. There were probably three or four little Bodines running around that town—little boys and girls with their daddy’s blue eyes.
Why did that notion make me so sad? This place was messing with my head. I hoped Gibson was happily married with a family of his own. Maybe that was why he wasn’t interested in a record deal. He had responsibilities at home. Made sense.
It also made my stomach hurt. Or maybe that was the cheap whiskey.
I glanced at my phone. I hadn’t called Quincy and Henna since I’d been here. It was late, but I knew hearing their voices would help me calm down. I brought up their number and hit send.
I waited while the phone rang several times. My adoptive parents eschewed a lot of modern technology, including cell phones. They had one house phone in the kitchen. It looked like something out of a movie from the eighties, with a long twisty cord so they could walk around while they talked. I’d tried to convince them to get cell phones a few times, but they said the radiation was bad for their auras.
It was the same reason they didn’t own a television or a microwave.
“Hello?” Henna answered.
“Hey, it’s Maya.”
“Hi, sunflower,” she said. “It’s so nice to hear your voice.”
“Sorry to call so late.”
“Is it late? I hadn’t noticed.”
I laughed. Of course not. Henna had always lived by her own calendar—one that had little to do with actual time. “Good, I’m glad I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all, sweet girl. I’ve been on the porch, painting in the nude by moonlight. It’s wonderful.”
“That sounds awesome. Is Quincy home?”
“Oh yes, he’s around.”
“How’s Blue Moon?” I asked and finished off the whiskey.
“Well, there was a nude protest at the farmer’s market last weekend. At least until everyone got sunburnt. Then there’s the Pierce’s goat. You remember Clementine?”
“Of course.”
“Well, a while back she escaped the farm and disappeared for a week or so. She came wandering back like nothing had happened. Turned out she got herself knocked up.”
I laughed. “Really?”
“She had three little goat babies last week on Jax’s side of the bed. They’re still trying to figure out how she let herself into the house.”
Only in Blue Moon. “I bet that didn’t make him too happy.”
“I suppose not. The baby goats sure are cute. Where are you now? Costa Rica? Japan? Maybe Australia?”
“No, I’m back in the States.”
“Welcome home, then. But your aura is vibrating so loudly. What’s bothering you?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m in West Virginia. It’s for work, but… I saw someone I used to know.”
“Did you? How did that feel?”
“Honestly, it scared me. I thought I was past this, but it’s making me feel like a kid again.”
“You’re not a child anymore, sunflower,” she said, her voice soothing. “I’m sensing a lot of imbalance in your divine energies. Have you been meditating?”
“Not as much as I should.”
“That will help. Find your center and unwind the flows of energy that are twisted inside of you.”
I smiled. Of course Henna would suggest meditation. It was her solution to most problems. Facing an important decision? Meditate. Fighting with a friend? Meditate. Stuffy nose? Meditate.
“You’re right. I’ll do that.”
“Good. I’m lighting my candles for you right now. They’ll send their light into the universe for you.”
“Thanks, Henna. I appreciate that.”
“Sunflower, remember, the past is the past. It can’t hurt you anymore. But dwelling there is just going to reopen old wounds that don’t need to be opened. I’d feel a