Home For Keeps

Having borrowed the portable fire pit from the deck, she’d set it on its pad a dozen feet from the lodge. She layered the bottom with wood and covered it with the stones they’d gathered before starting the fire. They really should be volcanic rock, but she didn’t know where to get those, so fieldstone would have to do. While she filled a bucket with water and set it inside, Kiki dug a hole in the ground under the dome. Then they used shovels to move the hot rocks into the hole.

“That’s it. We’re ready.” Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Angela crawled inside, careful not to get too close to the heat.

Following suit, Kiki turned on a battery-operated light and lowered the flap.

“Ready?” Angela asked.

“I am if you are.”

Angela lifted the bucket and poured water onto the hot stones, filling the dome with steam. Wow, it really did get hot in there fast! She was already beginning to sweat. Then it was time to start the ceremony that would bring them closer together, as Native American tradition dictated. She’d researched sweat lodges. They weren’t going to strip off their clothes, but they’d worn tank tops under their shirts and bicycle shorts to help with perspiration. Kiki was already taking off her black cotton blouse.

On to the ceremony. According to the sources Angela had found on the internet, they were supposed to conduct a “talking circle.”

“Kiki, you start. Speak from your heart about your life and concerns.”

“What life? You know what I have to deal with. I guess that’s my concern, too.”

Angela knew that Kiki had drawn the short straw when it came to family, but somehow she’d held up under the negativity and was a good-hearted person anyway. And a really good friend.

“Isn’t there anyone out there for you?” she asked. “An aunt or an uncle? A cousin?”

“A grandmother. Somewhere.”

“You never told me that before!”

Kiki shrugged. “Why would I? It’s not like I know her. The last time I saw her I was seven. We were living in Chicago at the time. She and my mom had a big fight, and Mom told her she was leaving town and Grandma would never see either of us again.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know that.” And that meant Kiki’s grandmother didn’t have any idea her granddaughter was in trouble and needed her. “What’s her name?”

“Elizabeth Hartl. Why?”

“Maybe we could find her.”

“Why bother? She won’t want me around. No one does.”

Angela was sure Kiki’s foster mother had convinced her of that. “Well I want you around.” There had to be a way to find Kiki’s grandmother. Surely the woman wouldn’t want her granddaughter in some terrible foster home. Wanting to get her friend’s spirits up, she said, “Why don’t you speak about your dreams. Or anything that comes to you that puts a smile in your heart. What would make you really happy?”

“Okay... I wish... I wish I had a father like yours.”

“Like mine?” Angela choked out. Still angry with Dad, she was aghast. “But he’s always ordering me around!”

“Because he wants the best for you. He takes good care of you. You have a great bedroom and an art room, too.” Kiki’s voice rose to a squeak. “The only nice thing I have is my tattoo.”

“It really is beautiful,” Angela said, thinking of the roses tattooed on her friend’s hip. Despite being underage, Kiki had found someone to ink her.

“Most of all,” Kiki went on, “your dad’s here with you. And he loves you.”

“I’m sure your mom loves you. Your real mom, I mean.”

“A lot of good that does me with Mom locked up.”

“But she’ll get out. You’ll see her again in less than a year.”

“I hope so, but I don’t know,” Kiki said, sounding forlorn. “Sometimes I think it’ll never happen. I’ll never see her again.”

Angela could really identify with Kiki on that one. Both girls were silent for a moment.

Then Kiki asked, “What do you wish for?”

Angela took a deep breath. “Pretty much the same as you. I wish I had a mother who cared about me instead of running away from me all my life.” Her chest tightened and her stomach started to ache as she thought about it. “Even now, she can’t come to see me.”

“Are you certain your dad didn’t make it impossible for her?”

“Pretty certain.” After the talk they’d had the night before. Maybe Dad wasn’t to blame for her mother leaving her as she’d always believed. “So that means she just doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Well...if it’s true. Your mom being back could just be a rumor.”

“You’re right. Ever since I heard Gran Maddie’s neighbor talk about ‘that Lily Trejo having the nerve to show her face on the rez again,’ I’ve been asking around. No one will admit to actually having seen my mother except for old Jasper, who sits outside the municipal building most days, and he’s not the most reliable person.”

“Do you think he lied when he said he saw your mom on Green Meadows property?”

“No, not lied. But Jasper has his good days, and other times...” She shrugged. Something in her wanted to believe...

The real reason she’d painted the mural had been to send a message to her absentee mother, assuming she really was back and had gone to Green Meadows.

Another purpose for the lodge: she could come out here to simply think about the mother she’d never met and without interference figure out what to do next to try to find her.

* * *

MONDAY MORNING WAS BUSY, as usual, but after showing a potential buyer to the office door, Grace glanced out the windows just as Caleb Blackthorne entered The Busy Corner across the street. He looked every bit the confident male in his jeans and leather jacket and boots. His long hair was tied back with what appeared to be a strip of leather. A little breathless, she had to fight the urge to leave the office and visit the restaurant for some take-out coffee as she often did. Instead, she decided to make a fresh pot.

“Oh, I didn’t see the pot was empty,” Carol said as Grace carried it to the restroom to get water. “I can do that. You have more important things to take care of.”

“No problem, Carol.” Grace raised her voice over the already running water. “I needed an excuse to stretch my legs anyway.”

An excuse to get away from more important things—that wretched paperwork that was waiting for her on her office desk. She would love, for example, to give Caleb that grand tour of Green Meadows she’d promised him. Hmm...

Setting up the coffee took only a few minutes. Carol was now on the phone with one of their suppliers. As she thought about the possibility of that tour to get her away from the office, Grace couldn’t resist the temptation to walk back to the windows. She was staring at The Busy Corner as if she could conjure Caleb Blackthorne again, when an old minibus rattled up and parked in front of the restaurant. Out stepped the odd-looking driver, who appeared to be wearing a costume of sorts. Short and chubby with a Van Dyke beard, he sported a bowler hat and a frock coat that had seen better days.

As he walked around the vehicle to let passengers out of the back, she noted the cartoon-like ghost painted on the side of the bus along with Spooky Tours... Hosted by Vincent Pryce.

What in the world...?

And then it hit her—this was a ghost tour operation. And it had come here, no doubt, because of the rumors at Green Meadows!

The odd little man was guiding a dozen people inside The Busy Corner.

“The coffee is ready.”