Friday night, Calliope sat in the main room of her family home, dressed in one of her favorite boho, shabby-chic, green dresses, her heart a mess and her mind scattered. She had the letters and photographs from the time capsule spread out on the side table next to the comfy chair that she lounged in.

She’d read each of the letters dozens of times over the past week. The ones from the kids were adorable, but it was the two letters penned by Julia Standish that had her sighing and questioning everything she knew.

“Life with Sam hasn’t been all roses and rainbows,” Julia wrote in the 1889 letter, “But I wouldn’t have things any other way. We have our family, our dear, dear friends, the saloon, and everything I ever could have dreamed of during those long, lonely years back East.”

Calliope picked up the earlier letter, scanning over Julia’s account of her early days and her journey to Haskell as a mail-order bride. She’d gone from being alone and in danger to being surrounded by people who loved her. Logic told Calliope her situation in life was much better, much more stable, than Julia’s ever was, but her gut and her heart couldn’t help but feel like Julia was the lucky one. She’d said it herself. She was surrounded by friends and family, people who loved her. Calliope bet Julia never went through a dry spell, where everyone she cared about seemed to have another priority that kept them away from her. Julia probably never felt left out.

“I could use a little help, if you’re not too busy,” her mom said as she brought a plate of homemade flatbread from the kitchen to the table.

Calliope glanced up from the letters. “Yeah, Mom. I’m coming.” She refolded the letters and put them and the photos back into the box, leaving it on the side table as she got up. Part of her knew she was just being maudlin and silly for feeling alone and envying a long-dead woman with a harder life than hers. She lived with her family, for gosh sakes, and she had a fabulous boyfriend who was on his way over. But that persistent, grumpy part of her still felt like everything was wrong. If chemistry was what people had when their relationships clicked, then what she was experiencing now was complete chemical meltdown. The kind that burned holes in everything good.

“Still pondering the mysteries of the universe as revealed through that time capsule?” her mom asked as Calliope stepped into the kitchen. “Could you put together a salad?”

“Sure.” Calliope crossed to the fridge to retrieve salad fixings. “And I wouldn’t call it contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

“Really? Because you looked pretty serious in there. And you’re not known for being that serious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Calliope plunked the lettuce on the counter, frowning at her mom.

Her mom blinked, looking surprised. “Just that you’ve always been so ebullient.”

Calliope’s frown deepened. Her mom always lapsed into fifty-cent words when she was thinking more like a therapist than a mom.

“Is it Jonathan?” her mom went on. “Are you nervous about him meeting us all tonight?”

“Mom, he’s met everyone before. Heck, he works with Will.”

“Yes, but family dinner with your girlfriend’s family is a big step.” Her mom moved to check on the simmering pot of curry on the stovetop. “Especially when the two of you haven’t been dating that long.”

“Are you saying that I’m rushing things?” Calliope reached for a knife to cut up the vegetables she’d taken from the fridge. She gripped its handle a little too hard.

Her mom sent her a knowing look. “I know that you’ve been a little lost since all the rest of your friends and Melody started dating. I just don’t want you to go overboard trying to fill up that empty space.”

Calliope let out a hard breath and chopped the carrot in front of her a little too enthusiastically. “I’m fine, Mom. And when did this whole thing with me and Jonathan become about me trying to fill a hole in my life? Jonathan and I have known each other for months, and the only hole I want filled is the one in a special place.”

Her mom barely batted an eyelash, which was par for the course in the Clutterbuck family. “So you two haven’t had sex yet?” she asked. “Hmm.”

“Why hmm?” Calliope frowned.

“Because you’re usually pretty quick to engage in sexual relations with men.”

Calliope scraped the carrot she’d chopped into the bowl of lettuce. There were times when she hated how open her parents were about discussing everyone’s sex lives.

“I like Jonathan,” she said, reaching for a red bell pepper to cut up. “This isn’t a fling to scratch an itch. It could be something more.” Never mind the fact that she’d been trying to get Jonathan in bed for what felt like ages now without results. Something always got in the way, whether it was his work or the renovation competition or just dumb luck.

“Well,” her mom said, lifted her wooden spoon to taste the curry, then went on. “As long as you’re getting involved for the right reasons, it doesn’t matter how long you wait to be intimate.”

“Are you going to define the right reasons?” Calliope asked, nearly slicing her finger in her vegetable-cutting zeal.

Her mom turned to her, resting her hand on one hip, and pursing her lips. “Don’t take that tone with me. You’ve been touchy for months now, and it’s about time you stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself because, for a change, you have to stand on your own instead of being part of a group. You’re perfectly capable of being your own person, and you know it.”

“I’m not…of course I’m my own person…you can’t just assume….” Calliope sputtered, but her frustration with her mom’s words overrode her ability to think clearly. “Don’t play psychologist with me now, Mom. I’m not one of your patients, and Jonathan will be here any minute. I don’t want to be in a bad mood when he gets here.”

“Just remember, Jonathan is a person with a life and feelings of his own, not a solution to your insecurities or a peg to fill that hole.”

Calliope clenched her jaw, wishing she could come up with a way to zing her mom with a withering reply. But as her mom shifted to the cupboards at the other end of the kitchen to take out plates and bowls, a prickling wave of self-consciousness hit Calliope. Her mom was right. She always was. Jonathan was a person, and she didn’t like being on her own.

She was still contemplating the mistakes she’d made—and the ones she was at risk of making—when a knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Melody called from the other room.

Calliope held her breath and quickly finished up the salad. Her face heated as Jonathan’s voice drifted into the kitchen. She left the salad for someone else to toss and hurried into the main room.

Jonathan looked amazing, as usual. He’d dressed up in crisp, black pants and a blue, button-down shirt that complimented his skin-tone perfectly. Best of all, as soon as Calliope entered the room, he smiled. The man had a smile that could light cities.

“You look great.” He said exactly what she’d been thinking about him.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She slid her arms around him in a hug and pressed up onto her toes to give him a long kiss. Maybe she shouldn’t have kissed him quite so hard or so deep with Melody standing right there and her mom bringing plates in from the kitchen, but she needed his arms around her and his mouth against hers. She didn’t realize how much until the solidity of his touch calmed her nerves. She just wanted to be with him, feel better with him.

“Wow,” he whispered when she finally brought herself to let go. His gaze darted quickly to where her dad was strolling in—barefoot—from the back hall. “That was some kiss.”

“I’m just happy to see you.” She smiled up at him, resting her hands flat against his chest. His heart was beating faster than expected, considering how confident and calm he looked.

He met her eyes, his brow furrowing slightly. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here,” she said, then took his hand and led him over to the table. “Dad, you remember Jonathan.”

“Of course.” Her dad stepped forward and offered his hand. “Aside from the fact that we see you at all of Howie’s events, Calliope here can’t stop talking about you.”

“Hello, Mr. Clutterbuck.” Jonathan shook his hand.

“Call me Dave.”

“And you can call me Luna,” Calliope’s mom said, bringing a handful of silverware to the table.

“Okay,” Jonathan said, but to Calliope’s eyes he looked a little overwhelmed by the informality. That, and—like most people visiting the Clutterbuck house—his glance drifted up to the huge mobile that dominated the center of the main room and its sexually inventive silhouettes.

Calliope’s parents exchanged the kind of glance that convinced her they’d installed the mobile specifically to provoke anyone new who entered their home. It was their own, private vetting process. But so far, Jonathan seemed to be passing muster.

“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I just had to finish up a little extra work,” Will said as he strode into the room. He nodded to Jonathan in greeting, then went on to say, “Howie’s given us all a pretty tall order, what with wanting to launch his first rocket for Founder’s Day.”

“I’ll say.” Jonathan moved to shake Will’s hand, seemingly relieved to talk about work instead of looking at the mobile. “Between the competition and the rocket, I’ve been working past midnight too many times to count lately.”

Which explained why things were moving so slowly between them, Calliope told herself. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Jonathan’s dedication to the things he cared about. And she liked that. Really, she did. Although why she had to fall for such a busy guy was a mystery.

“Dinner is ready, if you’d like to sit down,” Calliope’s mom said, bringing a huge, earthenware bowl filled with her curry to the table.

“Come sit next to me,” Calliope said, taking Jonathan’s hand and leading him to the low-set table and the oriental cushions that served as chairs around it. The sooner they got through dinner, the sooner they could move on to where she hoped the evening was heading.

Jonathan never would have guessed how hard it was to eat with more than a dozen couples in erotic positions swirling just above the heads of his host and hostess.

“Calliope mentioned that you served in Afghanistan?” Dave Clutterbuck asked, dabbing at the last of his curry with a piece of flatbread.

Jonathan couldn’t seem to drag his eyes down from the mobile. One couple in particular was engaged in an act that involved the woman’s ankles hooked over the man’s shoulders. He wondered if Calliope was that flexible and if pretzel shapes actually increased everyone’s pleasure enough to warrant all the twisting. He could see how the one that looked kind of like the standing man was driving down into the woman like she was a plow could provide for deeper penetration, but—

Calliope’s elbow in his ribs reminded him that he was in the middle of a dinner conversation and not a peep-show. His face and neck heated, especially when he realized he was holding his fork in mid-air. And the piece of chicken had fallen off.

He cleared his throat and stabbed another piece of chicken. “Sorry. I’m not used to, uh….” He didn’t have a clue how to finish the sentence.

“It’s okay,” Luna said, her eyes dancing with mischief. “We understand.” She glanced to her husband, her hand disappearing under the table in a way that made both Calliope and Melody roll their eyes.

Dave grinned at his wife, then leaned in to kiss her as if they were in the bedroom instead of the dining room.

“You get used to not seeing what you’re seeing,” Will said from Jonathan’s other side, eyes determinedly locked on his plate.

The humor of the situation hit home. Jonathan chuckled. He turned to Calliope—who was pink with embarrassment, but who didn’t seem at all surprised by her parents’ behavior—and winked. That seemed to set her at ease.

Although not completely. There was still that thread of tension he’d detected in her when he’d arrived. It was the same one that seemed to pop up when he least expected it every time they had a chance to hang out together. He’d have put up with all the PDAs her parents could dish out to figure out what ate at Calliope.

But later. They had dinner to finish first.

“I was in the Army for most of my twenties,” he said, doing like Will suggested and pretending he didn’t see what he was seeing. Heck, he had kind of perfected that while enlisted. “I was in Afghanistan for two of those years.”

“Fascinating,” Dave said, as though he hadn’t just dragged his mouth away from his wife’s. “Were you able to visit any historic sites or see any antiquities while you were there?”

Jonathan flinched into a frown. “Uh, no. The situation over there really doesn’t warrant sight-seeing at the moment.” It struck him wrong that someone as intelligent as Dave wouldn’t be aware of the basic realities on the ground in that part of the world. The ever-present itch of anxiety swelled within him.

“It’s such a shame,” Luna said with a sympathetic smile. “That’s such a historically important part of the world. Some of the old photographs I’ve seen are breathtaking.”

“Parts of the country are still breathtaking.” He smiled, breathing carefully to fight his discomfort. He put his fork down, not sure he’d be able to swallow another bite, and reached for his water instead.

“Did you see much activity while you were stationed over there?” Dave asked.

Jonathan had to take a long drink before he could answer. “There’s always some kind of activity over there.” His voice was rougher than he wanted it to be. He didn’t feel bad about it, though. Anyone who had had to deal with the risk and the monotony, the poverty and the inability to do a single thing to help most of the people he saw every day wouldn’t feel bad about their voice seizing up while talking about it. And they were still talking about the good days.

“Is it true that the situation of women in Afghanistan is as dire as they say it is?” Luna asked.

A dozen, frightened faces sprung up from Jonathan’s memories. The sound of tears and screaming that he’d been helpless to stop or block out echoed from the dark chambers of his thoughts.

“Mom.” Calliope’s whisper was harsh, scolding.

“I’m so sorry,” Luna said. “I…I forget that some things aren’t just an academic inquiry for people.”

It took another few seconds and Calliope’s hand on his leg before he realized he’d been staring at nothing, holding his breath. He shook his head and breathed deeply, chasing the memories away.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got caught up remembering an incident from back in the day. It happens sometimes.”

“It’s our fault for bringing it up. We were insensitive,” Dave said.

“No, really. It’s no problem,” Jonathan insisted. He took another quick drink. “I just remember things once in a while, a little vividly. Some of my buddies came back with much worse PTSD. I’ll take a couple bad memories and some nerves over that any day.”

“It must be hard.” Calliope spoke softly. Her hand was still on his leg, and he realized that he liked it. More than just a little. It grounded him.

He shrugged, feeling his anxiety slipping away. “That’s why I moved out here, actually.”

“Interesting.” Dave nodded. “I never thought of Haskell as a haven.”

Jonathan laughed. “It is. Well, to tell you the truth, when I saw that Paradise Space Flight was hiring mathematicians and also that Wyoming is the least densely-populated state in the country, I knew it was a perfect match.”

“But you like people.” Melody joined the conversation. “Don’t you?”

“I like people in small doses,” Jonathan answered with a wry grin. “I have fun with Howie’s competitions, but let me tell you, I really appreciate the ability to go back to my apartment, shut the doors and the shades, and just be alone and quiet for a while.” Calliope tensed at his side. “You don’t get any of that in the Army,” he added.

“I never would have pegged you for an introvert,” Luna said, her manner relaxed again.

“Really?” Will said. “You’ve never tried to get him to sit with you at lunch.”

Jonathan laughed. “It’s true. These guys bug me because I like to eat lunch in my office with the doors closed.”

“You don’t like company?” Calliope looked as though she took that personally.

“In moderation,” he answered, wondering if he was getting close to whatever was bothering her.

An awkward silence fell at the table. It took Jonathan by surprise. Calliope’s parents were both watching her, even though she’d gone back to eating the last of her supper. They knew something he didn’t know, obviously.

He cleared his throat. “So, did Calliope tell you about the time capsule we found last weekend?”

The question did what it was designed to do. The mood shifted, and everyone loosened up again.

“Calliope hasn’t stopped looking at those photos or reading the letters all week,” Melody said. She sent a teasing look across the table to her sister. “I think she’s ready to sign up to be a mail-order bride.”

Calliope’s shoulders relaxed, even though she sent a provoking look Melody’s way. “I think they had interesting lives is all.”

“I bet they did,” Jonathan said.

“Have you told Jake Standish that you found the capsule yet?” Dave asked.

Calliope sent her father a defensive look.

“I mentioned something,” Jonathan said. The defensive look turned on him. He met it with a quirk of his eyebrow. “He’s a little too busy getting the bar where he wants it to be, now that he’s inherited it. But he did think Kathy would be interested.”

“There you go.” Luna nodded. “You should give the capsule to Kathy.”

“I’m not giving anything to Kathy,” Calliope said, a little on the glum side. She seemed to hear what she just said and sat a little straighter, clearing her throat. “I mean, I will give it to her. Technically, I guess, it belongs to her. I just…I kinda want to spend more time with it.”

Jonathan grinned. He was reminded of their phone conversation earlier in the week when she said she wanted to spend more time with him. He felt the same way. If only there were more hours in the day. Maybe then they could create their own time capsule of memories.

“Does anyone want dessert?” Luna said, getting up and gathering some of the dishes from the table. “I made a Pavlova.”

The moment of tension passed as everyone got up to help Luna clear the table, including Jonathan. Even though she insisted he stay seated and keep the conversation going. He helped her anyhow, then sat at the table discussing the plans for the renovation with Dave and Will while Luna served heaping bowls of meringue, fruit, and cream to all of them. Aside from the few bumps in the middle, the evening had turned out better than he had anticipated.

Now if he could just get that damn mobile to stop giving him ideas.

“So, do you want to stick around for a while?” Calliope asked him as he stood staring up at the thing while Luna and Dave cleared up the last of the dishes and Melody and Will disappeared somewhere else in the house.

The invitation for more dessert was as clear as day.

Jonathan took a step closer to Calliope. “Well….”

A clatter sounded in the kitchen, followed by giggles. One glance, and Jonathan was treated to an eyeful of Dave wedging Luna up against the counter. Her leg was hitched over his hip, and his hand cupped her breast.

Calliope’s parents.

It was the weirdest, most uncomfortable turn-on in the history of the universe.

“Actually—” He took a step away from Calliope. “—I don’t think it’s a great idea to stick around here.”

Calliope’s face fell. Hard. “Oh. I see. I guess….” She glanced down, her face going red.

That grabbed Jonathan’s full attention in a hurry. “What do you see?”

“I thought you were interested is all.” She began to turn away.

He caught her, sliding a hand under her chin and convincing her to look up at him. “Oh, I’m very interested,” he assured her.

“Even after that completely awkward dinner?” she asked. Her glance flickered to the side. “Even after them?”

He pressed his lips together, studying her. She’d jumped to the conclusion that he wasn’t really interested in a mighty big hurry, and he didn’t think he’d given her that indication at all. He had the feeling that they needed to have a talk of some sort, but he didn’t for the life of him know what exactly it should be about.

“I tell you what,” he said instead. “Why don’t we take a walk?”

“A walk.” She didn’t sound thrilled, but her expression softened.

“Yeah.” He leaned closer. “Let’s take a walk over to my place.”

Understanding dawned on her. Her glance flickered once more to her parents in the kitchen. They looked as though any surface would do for what they had in mind. “Yeah, I think a walk would be a good idea,” she said in a rush, then took his hand and headed for the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Jonathan let her drag him on, sending one last, winking glance up to the mobile.