by Susan Fox
He was vaguely aware that his mom and Forbes were talking about how lucky they’d been to meet. Now, catching Miranda’s gaze on his face, he saw her raise her eyebrows in a question. Had she noticed that his mind had wandered?
She seemed attuned to him, or was that his imagination? He really wished now that, despite the curiosity of the older adults, the two of them were sitting closer. It would be so nice to touch her arm or rest his hand on her thigh. And why shouldn’t he? Everyone knew they were dating. Casual touches were normal when a couple was dating.
Dating. Yes, that’s what they were doing. He needed to remember, as he’d told his mom once, that he wasn’t auditioning Miranda for the role of wife. Not every dating relationship turned into a lifelong commitment. Yes, children were involved, but what was wrong with kids seeing their parents date? It would help them learn that there were different kinds of relationships, and that when ultimately you fell in love and married, that was something truly special.
He was so damned inexperienced. For a moment he resented the way he and Candace had bonded from the beginning. It had meant neither of them had ever dated anyone else.
“Daddy? Daddy!” It was Brandon, hollering at him.
“Sorry. What?”
“We want to be ’scused.”
“Please,” Caleb added.
They had cleaned their plates, including their vegetables and Miranda’s gougères. “You may be excused. We’ll call you when it’s time for dessert.” He gazed down the table to see how Ariana was doing. She seemed contented as she nibbled a hot dog. Miranda caught his eye and gave him a questioning “Is everything okay?” smile.
He nodded and smiled back, wondering if they should have a talk. What was she looking for with him? From what she’d said about past relationships, she either fell irrationally in love with a guy or she dated purely casually. Obviously, she wasn’t crazy in love with him, so she must think of this as casual. Yet she’d never involved Ariana in one of her casual relationships before.
He blew out a breath and stared down at his plate. Yeah, when it came to dating, he was way out of his depth. So for now, he’d eat and try not to worry about it.
* * *
Luke was so far away, down at the other end of the table, and Miranda almost felt like the people in between them—his parents to her left and his in-laws to her right—were a barrier guarding him from her. Not that the older people were being actively hostile, but comfortable wasn’t the word that best described how she felt at this dinner table.
Okay, fine, she’d known it wouldn’t be all warm, welcoming arms. Slowly she’d begun to win over Luke’s boys, and maybe she could do the same with the rest of his family.
“Annie,” she said, “I’d never played Clue-Tracer, but when Luke told me you’d created it, I had to give it a try. It’s amazing.”
“Yes, it is.”
Coming from anyone else, the comment would have sounded egotistical, but Miranda filtered it through the insight Luke had given her, that Annie’s bluntness wasn’t intended to be rude. “I know you’re a genius, but it amazes me that one mind can come up with something so imaginative, yet also so intricate and detailed. Creativity and logic don’t always go together.”
“That’s for sure,” Forbes said. “Thank God I have Sonia for the logic part.” He gave his wife a one-armed hug.
She rested her black-haired head on his shoulder. “And I’m grateful for your wonderful musical talent and your artistic creativity working with wood. They make my life so much richer.”
Miranda envied their easy affection and appreciation for each other. Was it possible that she and Luke might someday be like that? Realizing she was gazing at him with an unguarded expression that might well express longing, she looked quickly away and checked on her daughter. Ariana had stopped eating and was toying with what was left on her plate, muttering to herself. Miranda moved the plate away and took a napkin to her daughter’s smeared face.
Forbes went on. “My mom says that, even back before I can remember, I drove her crazy trying to make music with whatever was at hand.”
“Apparently,” Sonia said, “I was a born teacher. Before I even knew what a teacher was, I was making my dolls do the same things I was learning myself.” She laughed. “Guess I was born with the instinct to boss people around.”
“To instruct,” Annie corrected, clearly not getting the joke. “There’s a difference. As for childhood hobbies, yes, I was a nerd. Science, math, games, sci-fi books.”
“When I was a kid,” Randall said, “I was fascinated by the pictures my family took, and believe me, they took a lot. My uncle noticed my interest, and gave me a camera for my sixth birthday. Thereby sealing my fate.” He turned to Miranda. “How about you? As a child, did you have any hobbies that indicated you’d end up wanting to work with little kids?”
The man seemed well-intentioned, no doubt wanting to make sure she didn’t feel left out. But seriously, hobbies? If she told him her childhood obsession was having enough to eat, and her spare time was spent shoplifting, it wouldn’t go over well. This conversation only reinforced how different she was from these people. But she hunted for something to say, and came up with, “My biggest hobby was, and still is, reading. We got books from the library, and when I was tiny, Aaron read to me. He taught me, and I must’ve gone through hundreds of books. But no one’s going to pay me to read books—and if they did, that might take the fun out of it.”
“You could review books,” Annie said. “That would exercise your critical skills.”
“Which I’d bet is exactly what she doesn’t want to do,” Luke said. “For some of us, hobbies are supposed to be about pure relaxation. Right, Miranda?”
She sent a grateful look down the long table, wishing he was beside her and she could squeeze his hand. “Exactly.”
Ariana was wriggling. For once, Miranda was glad of the threat of a TTT. “I think it’s time for my little one to excuse herself. Her quota of good behavior is nearing its end.”
“Why don’t you take her into the playroom?” Luke suggested. “And while you’re there, make sure the boys aren’t destroying anything.” He glanced around the table, saying, “Everyone done? Let’s clean up, and get dessert going.” He smiled at Miranda. “We’ll be sure to call you when it’s ready.”
“I should help,” she protested.
“No need.”
“Or you could,” Sonia said, “and I’ll entertain your daughter in the playroom. Nothing against my wonderful grandsons, but it’s fun playing with a girl for a change.”
“That would be great. But if she gets too fussy, come and get me.”
“Gender is intriguing when it comes to child-rearing,” Annie said. “No matter how you try to avoid instilling any of the antiquated sexist views about gender roles, it’s almost impossible to prevent it. I think I’ll come with you.”
Barely managing to suppress an eye-roll, Miranda glanced at Luke. He made no effort to hide his amused grin.
It occurred to her that if she and Luke ever really got together, Ariana would have a very interesting upbringing with Sonia and Annie as grandmothers.
If. It was a gigantic “if ” for so many reasons, she thought as she watched Sonia bear Ariana away in her arms, with Annie right beside them. The two women were such a contrast, not only in personality but in appearance: Sonia with her sleek black hair and cherry-red top, and Annie looking as if she still frequented thrift shops and only went to the hairdresser if someone dragged her there.
This evening, being a guest at someone else’s family’s Sunday dinner, reminded her of the first days at SkySong. She’d felt like such an outsider, only there because of Aaron’s relationship with Eden. Now, after months of getting to know Eden and her family, she felt more comfortable, though always slightly removed. Here at Luke’s house, it was hard to believe she could ever belong.
Ariana could. Loving a child was easy, and Ariana was generous in returning affection. Miranda could
imagine Luke’s parents and in-laws accepting her daughter into the fold. But when it came to an adult, an adult with her own unimpressive history and emotional baggage . . . No, it was almost impossible to imagine these people, who had loved the wonderful Candace so deeply, ever truly accepting Miranda.
Nor would they accept her if she sat staring at her empty plate, feeling sorry for herself. She sprang to her feet and began to gather dishes. If there was one thing she was good at, it was cleaning a kitchen.
She was in the middle of rinsing dishes and putting them into the dishwasher when a high-pitched shriek, distinctively her daughter’s, almost made her drop a plate. “Damn. A tantrum. I’ll go and—”
“Hang on a minute.” Randall, who’d been putting packaged leftovers in the fridge, stopped and held up a hand. “Annie’s good at dealing with tantrums.”
“Yeah, she gives the kid a lecture on why they’re not logical,” Forbes said.
When Miranda chuckled, Forbes said, “No, seriously. She does. And it usually works.”
Sure enough, in less than a minute the screaming ended. “I’m filing that trick away for future reference,” Miranda said, going back to the dishes.
Their team worked efficiently, and soon dessert was on the table. She went down the hall to the playroom and stopped in the doorway, surprised to see Ariana on the floor with the boys, playing with trucks, while Sonia and Annie sat on a brown leather couch, watching.
“How did you stop her tantrum?” she asked the women.
“It wasn’t us,” Sonia said. “It was Caleb. He offered her a truck.”
Ariana called out, “I play trucks, Mommy!”
“She likes to crash trucks,” Brandon said approvingly.
“Uh, that’s nice,” Miranda said. “Thanks for letting her play with you, boys.”
To the women, she added, “It seems my daughter has a savage streak. She and a friend’s little girl were knocking over toys playing Monster Bowling the other day.”
“Just because a child enjoys games that, on the surface, involve violence,” Annie started, “it doesn’t mean—”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Sonia said, “but did you come to tell us that dessert’s on the table, Miranda?”
“I did.”
The boys jumped up and raced down the hall, and Sonia said, “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”
Miranda collected Ariana, who was still happily smashing one truck into another, and everyone took their same seats at the table. Mostly she avoided giving Ariana sugar, especially in the evening, so she’d brought a plastic container of fruit salad. “You get a special dessert, sweetie,” she told her as she added a tiny portion of German chocolate cake.
Fortunately, her child bought it. “I special!”
As everyone else served themselves chocolate cake and strawberry cheesecake, Annie said, “Miranda, you can tell Di SkySong that she doesn’t need to worry about Starshine.”
“Starshine?” Sonia queried. “The girl who left the commune?”
“Correct. Now, I don’t know whether she did suffer abuse at the commune, but there’s a high probability that she did leave the island safely and is now living in Sedona, Arizona. Married, no children.”
“Good heavens,” Sonia said. “How did you find that out?”
Randall said, “It’s best not to inquire about her methods. Trust me on this.”
“Ha ha,” Annie said without humor. “Most people have no idea how much information is out there, and how accessible it is.”
“But you didn’t even know her name,” Miranda said.
“I knew what she looked like, so—”
“How?” Luke asked.
“I went to see Gertie Montgomery.”
Miranda gaped at her. She’d thought Eden was the tiniest bit obsessive about needing answers to unsolved puzzles, but Annie had her beat. Fascinated, she listened as Luke’s mother-in-law went on.
“In lucid moments, she told me about the girl’s distinctive white-blond hair, worn very long and parted in the middle as was the hippie style. I checked the Destiny Gazette archives, but had no luck. The hippies were reclusive and there were almost no pictures, and none with a girl of that description. However, I could estimate Starshine’s age, and the probability was that she was a runaway.”
She straightened her glasses and went on. “I had a time frame, as the commune only existed for around three years. Although not all runaways would have been reported, nor all records from that time period digitized, I found one young woman with that same distinctive hair color. Frida Larsson, from Washington. She did return home to her parents, but only briefly. She moved to Sedona and married some years later. Her name is now Frida Jones. There’s a high probability that she’s Starshine. I was going to contact her to verify, but Randall said that might be seen as intrusive.”
Miranda’s mouth had fallen open as she listened to Annie’s recital. Working on her crime-solving video game had clearly given her lots of resource tools, and Miranda had to wonder if all of them were strictly legal. She wasn’t about to ask.
“I’m sure Di and Seal will be happy to hear the news,” she said. And Eden would love to have the mystery solved. “And yes, I think it’s best to leave any follow-up to them.” If the two old hippies preferred not to revisit their commune days, Frida/Starshine might feel the same way. “By the way, Annie, did you find any trace of Merlin?”
“No. I admit to failure there. I’m quite sure he was Otto Kruger, but I can’t find a trace of him after the commune days.”
“Poof, he vanished like magic,” Forbes said. “As befits his name.”
“Of course he didn’t,” Annie said. “I believe he must have died at the commune.”
“What?” Miranda’s shocked question was echoed all around the table.
“It’s the only logical conclusion. Otherwise, my research would have located him. I’m very skilled.”
“I’d tend to believe her,” Randall said.
“But,” Luke said, a frown tugging at his handsome features, “how could he have died and none of the commune members known about it?”
“Of course someone knew about it,” Annie said. “The first possibility is that he died of an overdose or natural causes, and some or all of them disposed of his body. Which they well might do because as I said the commune members were reclusive.”
“I knew Merlin,” Forbes said. “Only briefly, because I didn’t like him and I left the commune. But I believe he would have preferred a nature-oriented spiritual ceremony. Not the formalities society would impose.”
“But his family should have been notified,” Sonia said.
“A number of hippies had cut ties with their families,” her husband pointed out. “That seemed to be the case with Merlin. Otto Kruger. Whatever.”
She shook her head, clearly having trouble relating to that.
“Annie,” Luke said, “if that’s the first possibility, what’s the second?”
“That he was killed and his killer disposed of his body and no one else knew, or a group of them were in on either the murder and/or the disposal.” She frowned around the table. “Why do you all look so stunned?”
Miranda felt like her eyes had widened so far that they might pop out of her head. Luke looked equally shocked as he exchanged glances with her.
“Uh, because we are,” Randall said. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I was going to, but I got caught up in developing my new commune game and forgot until now.” She turned to Miranda. “You’ll tell Di and Seal?”
“And Eden and Aaron. They’re interested in the mystery, too.”
“What do we do now?” Sonia said. “If there was a death at the commune, should we report it to the police?”
“Technically, yes,” Annie said, “but what’s the point? Otto Kruger has no living relatives except extremely distant ones, and they’ve believed him to be dead all these years anyhow.”
“Isn’t justice the point?
” Sonia asked.
“If a few hippies buried or cremated a body in a spiritual ceremony and didn’t notify the authorities,” Forbes said, “I don’t see that as a huge crime. But if it was murder . . .” He turned to look at Miranda.
She realized that the other adults’ eyes were on her, while the children, in happy oblivion, ate their dessert. “Di and Seal,” she said slowly, realizing what everyone was thinking. The couple weren’t her relatives, and yet she felt defensive on their behalf. “They told Eden that Merlin disappeared. They didn’t know anything more than that.” She glanced around. “You all know them. They have integrity, right?”
“I did say that only one person or a few people might have been involved,” Annie said.
“They have integrity,” Forbes said, measuring out his words. “But they have that same thing I do, and a number of other Destiny Islanders. We aren’t fans of many of society’s rules. We’ve learned to get along in our fashion, not rock the boat too much, but back in the sixties and seventies we were really antiestablishment and we made more waves. We protested, marched, and practiced civil disobedience.”
“What are you saying?” Miranda asked.
“Di and Seal never opted into the institution of marriage, right?”
“No, they did a personal thing, a commitment ceremony.” She’d seen pictures of the two of them, young and beautiful with their long hair and glowing faces. “You’re saying that if someone died . . .”
“If someone who chose to live on—to lead—a commune died, wouldn’t it be the moral act to honor him with a spiritual ritual at that commune? Not to turn his body over to the establishment to deal with in its coldhearted fashion?”
Di and Seal would no doubt still prefer it. She nodded. “And if that happened, then the commune members would have a pact of silence, so none of them got in trouble.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Forbes said.
She was just coming to terms with that, understanding that it wasn’t such a bad thing, when Annie said, “Or of course, as I said, maybe someone killed Merlin.”
