Chapter Eleven
When she’d accepted Luke’s invitation to go dancing, this wasn’t what she’d had in mind—which made Miranda realize that her brain hadn’t completely adjusted to life on Destiny Island.
To her, “dancing” meant a dark club, pounding music, lighting that was almost psychedelic. Anonymity, the crush of writhing, overheated bodies in trendy clothes, the scent of perfume, sweat, and booze.
Not a wooden barn of a community hall, with a steeple on one side indicating it had started life as a church. Not the country-twangy song B-B-Zee was playing, and the twenty or so line dancers out on the floor in cowboy boots, denim, and a couple of long, boho skirts.
Nor had she expected to be sitting at two shoved-together tables with not only her brother, Eden, Di, and Seal, but also Luke’s mom and in-laws. In retrospect, she probably should have. She knew B-B-Zee was a popular island band, that Aaron and Eden loved them, and that Di and Seal were friends of the band members. She knew Luke’s stepdad was one of those band members.
But, silly her, she’d been fussing over what to wear, not over making a good impression on Luke’s family. Or having her big brother scrutinize her every interaction with Luke from across the wooden four-top. Maybe that was a good thing, or she might’ve canceled.
And really, this wasn’t so bad. The islanders had started with “haven’t seen you in a while” chatter and then segued into Aaron and Eden’s wedding, scheduled for the end of April. Miranda had mostly stayed quiet. At this table, there were she and Luke, Aaron and Eden. Eden wore a long skirt and casual top, and Aaron was in jeans and a navy Henley. At the adjoining table, on Miranda’s right was Randall Yuen, Luke’s father-in-law, and beside him his wife, Annie Byrne. Her wealth and success sure didn’t show in her plaid flannel shirt and well-worn jeans. Her unstyled paprika-and-salt hair showed fading tones of the same blazing red as her daughter’s had been, and her eyes behind navy-framed glasses were the same striking light gray as her grandsons’. Black-haired Randall was more put-together than his wife, in khakis and a cream-colored shirt with a First Nation eagle design on the pocket.
Across from the two of them sat Di and Seal, in their usual modified hippie garb, and at the end of that four-top was Luke’s mom. Ms. Russo hadn’t aged much, with her shiny black hair and olive skin, and looked attractive in a cranberry-colored sweater over fancy jeans and tooled boots. All the same, Miranda was quite happy that Luke’s mom was too far away for easy conversation. Not that she figured the conversation would flow all that “easily” anyhow.
The three jean-clad men on stage were all of parental vintage, gray-haired or balding. Luke had pointed out his stepdad, ponytailed like Seal though Forbes’s hair was thinner, the only one wearing a tie-dyed tee as opposed to a casual shirt.
The band, which was actually very good, switched to a slower song, and now couples were on the floor in each other’s arms. Having listened to a lot of Canadian music on the radio, she recognized the old Gordon Lightfoot tune. Forbes was at the mic, singing poignantly about being lonely, away from home, in the early morning rain. Personally, she figured the guy in the song wasn’t all that bad off. At least he had a home to miss. It was more than she and Aaron had ever had as children.
Of course now Aaron did. He had a home, would soon have a wife, and Eden’s family had become his as well. Everyone wanted, maybe expected, Miranda to make this island her home, too. Luke kept saying how great it was compared to Vancouver. While she didn’t agree that it was better, each place had merits. Just like Quail Ridge Community Hall versus a trendy Granville Street club.
Could she and Ariana belong on Destiny Island?
She glanced at the phone lying on the table in front of her, beside a bottle of Blue Moonshine honey lager. Eden’s younger sister, Kelsey, was back at the cabin with Ariana. She had met Luke tonight, when he picked up Miranda, and given them both a wink, saying, “Stay out as late as you want. This woman at work loaned me the first two seasons of a nineties TV show called Sex and the City, and I’m addicted.” Kelsey had a part-time job at the school board office, and was building up her art portfolio with the idea of applying to art school.
Luke touched Miranda’s forearm. “Worrying about Ariana?” he asked softly.
She glanced at him, looking so handsome and fitting in perfectly here in his blue denim shirt and jeans. Better than her in her slinky black top, rhinestone-bedazzled skinny jeans, and mid-heel shoes.
“Not really,” she said. “Just suffering a touch of separation anxiety.”
He nodded understandingly. “Even though I’m a dad not a mom, I feel like there’s an emotional umbilical cord tying me to the boys. I said that to my mother one day, and she says it never goes away. Even when I was in vet school in Saskatchewan, she felt it.”
She nodded. “I believe that. But not all parents have it. Or if my mother did, it got destroyed by all the drugs.”
He squeezed her forearm, his touch conveying as much as words ever could.
She smiled to reassure him. “I’m not depressed, honest. Tonight I’m going to have fun.” Her lips curved higher. “Or at least as much fun as I can, given all the watchful eyes.” Though, on balance, she was glad to have her brother, Eden, Di, and Seal there, like a support network buffering her contact with Luke’s relations.
He gave a rueful laugh. “Yeah, we do have a chaperone or two. That tends to be the story when you go out on Destiny. Privacy’s hard to come by.”
“Tell me about it,” she said ruefully.
He leaned closer and whispered, “So you’re safe, at least while we’re at the community hall.”
A warm thrill tingled through her. What did he have in mind for later? That first kiss had knocked her socks off—or, to be more accurate, made her want to strip off her sheer black panty hose. But Luke wasn’t the same kind of man she’d dated before, and she had no experience with this kind of relationship. She really didn’t have a clue how things would go. But maybe that was part of the fun of it. That, and the anticipation. The man knew the Kama Sutra!
Before she could decide whether to offer a sexy retort, he’d leaned away and reached for his beer.
She had a sip of hers and listened as Eden responded to Sonia Russo’s question about how she enjoyed working at Arbutus Lodge. She had started in January, as the facility’s legal counsel and program director.
“By the way,” Miranda said, “I ran into someone else who works there. Glory McKenna.”
“Oh, yes.” Eden smiled at her and then at Aaron. “An old classmate of Aaron’s. You must’ve been in school with her, too, Miranda.”
“Yeah, though I didn’t recognize her. She seems nice.”
“She’s great. The seniors adore her. She may even be here tonight. She loves to dance and gets Brent out as often as she can.”
“She has a two-and-a-half-year-old named Gala. We talked about doing a playdate.”
“Good idea,” Eden said. Then she said, “Oh, Aunt Di, before I forget . . .” She turned to the older woman.
“What is it, my dear?” Tonight, Di’s silver and brown hair was pulled back in a long, thick braid, showing off her classic bone structure and vivid blue eyes. She wore a lovely embroidered top over jeans and boots.
“Gertie Montgomery was particularly lucid today. She said something else about Starshine.”
It seemed to Miranda that Di’s face tightened, and there was a rare impatience in her voice when she said, “Eden, I thought you’d let that go. It does the soul good to concede defeat now and then.”
The hint of discord was unusual. Usually Eden and her aunt were a mutual fan club. Miranda had heard about Gertie before, but who was Starshine?
“Ha,” Aaron said. “It’s not in my fiancée’s nature to quit without solving a puzzle.”
“Who’s Gertie Montgomery?” Annie asked. “And who’s Starshine?”
Miranda was beginning to see what Luke had meant, about his mother-in-law being blunt and not always so attuned to the social niceties.
“Gertie’s one of the residents at Arbutus Lodge,” Eden responded. “A real sweetheart, though sadly she has Alzheimer’s. She’s a painter, and my mom and sister visit her sometimes and they all paint together. But anyhow, she used to be a public health nurse. Starshine was one of the hippies at the old commune. You know that in the late sixties and early seventies there was a commune on Destiny?”
“I’ve heard it mentioned,” Annie responded. “Go on.”
“Di brought Starshine to the clinic for a medical emergency, and Gertie treated her because the visiting doctor wasn’t there at the time.”
“We’ve come a long way since those days,” Randall said. “With a properly staffed and equipped medical clinic.”
“Anyhow,” Eden said, “today, Gertie remembered seeing Starshine again.”
“Oh?” Di said, the single syllable sounding a little strained. Miranda noticed that she and Seal, who sat beside her, had clasped hands.
“Yes, at the ferry dock, in the foot passenger departure line. So it seems she left the commune safely.”
“Didn’t I tell you that?” Di said, and at the same time Annie said, “Safely? The girl was in danger?” Both their tones were sharp.
Eden addressed her aunt. “You said she left and you said Merlin did, too, but you were vague about it.”
“Forgive us for not being so good with the details,” Seal said laconically, “but back then we were stoned most of the time.”
Everyone chuckled except Annie, who repeated, “This Starshine was in danger?”
“Eden, you’re going to have to tell the whole story,” Randall said with amusement. “She’ll never be satisfied until you do.”
Miranda was still watching Seal, and saw his brown eyes narrow behind his wire-framed glasses. He exchanged a look with Di, who opened her mouth.
But before she could speak, Luke was leaning forward, his sleeve brushing Miranda’s arm and giving her a warm shiver. “You’ve got me intrigued, too, Eden,” he said. “Miranda told me it was the commune that first brought you to the island?”
“That’s right,” her future sister-in-law said.
Knowing this part of the story quite well, Miranda sat back with a smile, happy that everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere than on her.
“It brought her to me, too,” Aaron teased. “Don’t forget that part.”
“Not for a moment, darling.” Eden squeezed his arm, the diamonds in her engagement ring sparkling. “Anyhow, Mom’s older sister ran away in 1969, after major battles with their strict parents. Mom never knew where she’d gone and, though she tried to trace her over the years, she never found her. But then, after my grandmother died, Mom found a letter indicating that Lucy and her boyfriend Barry”—her lips curved and she pulled them straight—“had joined the commune here. Mom was too weak from cancer treatments to come look for clues, so she sent me.”
“Di was Lucy?” Annie said. “And Seal, were you Barry?”
“He was,” Di answered. “We were both running from unhappy homes and we chose new names. I was Diamond, for the Beatles’ song, ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.’” She nodded at Seal to continue the story.
“One day when I was out with a local fisherman, a seal offered itself to me as my totem animal,” Seal said. “I honored it by taking its name.”
“How fascinating,” Randall said. “I knew the commune was there, but I was too young to care much about it.” He glanced at Luke’s mom. “How about you, Sonia?”
“I was curious, but my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near it. The hippies didn’t come into the village much, did they, Di? Seal?”
The way the SkySongs were sitting, shoulders close and hands clasped, Miranda had a sense of “the two of them against the world.” But Seal sounded casual enough when he said, “No. The commune was in a remote location and we were quite self-sufficient. Someone made a grocery run into town every couple weeks. And like I said, I did go out with a fisherman sometimes, me and a couple of the other hippies. We traded labor for fish. Other than that, there wasn’t a lot of mingling.”
“But this Starshine,” Annie persisted. “She wasn’t safe?”
Seal and Di exchanged glances. Di said, “Hippies, drugs, rock music, free love. It could be a crazy scene.”
Miranda had noticed in the past that, while the two of them still wore hippie-influenced clothing and had retained a lot of their sixties beliefs and values, they didn’t seem keen on revisiting their commune days. Whenever the family conversation turned in that direction, the SkySongs changed the subject. It seemed that for them, as for her, there were things in the past that weren’t exactly fond memories.
Eden, seated across from Luke, twisted sideways to study her aunt and uncle. “It was more than that.” She turned her gaze on Annie. “The leader, Merlin, abused his power. Some of the girls were infatuated with him and he used that. Used them.” She frowned at Di. “I don’t know why the former members of the commune seem so determined to gloss over that. Abuse is a serious matter.”
Miranda caught her breath. This part of the story, she hadn’t heard before.
“Damned right,” Annie said, her forehead creased in a frown. “So this Merlin guy hurt Starshine?”
“Someone did,” Eden said. “She was pregnant and someone beat her, maybe kicked her. She miscarried and was bleeding badly, which was why Di took her to the nurse.”
“Starshine didn’t say it was Merlin who did it,” Di said quietly.
Aaron, who had listened in silence, spoke now. “Eden and I talked to a number of former commune members when we were trying to find Lucy.” He glanced at Sonia. “Forbes being one.”
She nodded. “I didn’t meet him back then. He’s a few years older than me. He came over from Vancouver, joined the commune, but didn’t stay long. From there, he went down to San Francisco, and a few years later ended up in Victoria.”
Eden picked up the tale again. “No other names came up as possible abusers. Can you think of anyone else it might have been, Di?”
“It was a long time ago,” she responded. “And as Seal said, most of us were pretty stoned.”
“No one reported this to the police?” Annie asked. “Merlin got away with this stuff? And, by the way, I gather that’s not his real name?”
“Hippies weren’t big fans of the police, or vice versa,” Seal said. “And no, I’m sure it’s a made-up name. It was a time of rechristenings.”
“Starshine as well,” Annie said. “Did you ever know their real names? Merlin’s and Starshine’s?”
With an edge to his voice, Seal said, “The whole point of rechristening was to be new people. The ones we wanted to be. We didn’t talk much about our pasts.”
“That’s not an answer to my question,” Annie pointed out.
Miranda couldn’t help a quick grin. The billionaire video game designer didn’t let anyone get away with anything. She was sure glad the woman’s attention was on someone other than herself.
Beneath the table, Luke’s big, warm hand settled on her jean-clad thigh. Without looking at him, she rested hers on top. No, this wasn’t the night she’d anticipated, but it was interesting; his relatives weren’t grilling or judging her; and having him beside her made it special. She’d never before been with a man who could fire her up with passionate kisses, yet make her feel comfortable in a situation like this. Not, of course, that she’d even met family members of any other men she’d dated, nor introduced her boyfriends to Aaron.
“Merlin’s name might have been Otto Kruger,” Eden said. “I talked to Bart Jelinek. Being in real estate, he’s been interested in the commune land—which, by the way, is tied up in a trust for people in Germany who don’t seem interested in it. Anyhow, the land had been owned by an elderly German man, a hermit who died without a will, and it was hard to trace relatives. Merlin claimed to be related, which was his rationale for setting up the commune there. Bart said that this Otto Kruger person turned out to be the closest relative, but he couldn’t be traced. Which ties in with Merlin disappearing, if he really was Otto. But it’s hard to imagine why he wouldn’t want to get legal title to a big chunk of land.”
“Hippies weren’t into ownership,” Seal said.
“It’s quite fascinating,” Annie said, her gray eyes gleaming behind the lenses of her glasses.
“She’s wondering if she could turn it into a game,” Randall said.
“No!” The exclamation burst from Di’s lips. She took a breath and said, more calmly, “Who would be interested in a game that harks back to the sixties and the flower children?”
“Baby boomer flower children,” Annie said. “And others, I’d bet. As Randall said, we were too young to really get caught up in it the way you did, but we weren’t immune. The times were exciting. Paradigms were not just shifting, they were being shattered.”
“I don’t think it’d sell,” Seal said slowly, “but if you do it, you should set it in the States. Things were more dramatic there. The draft, protests against the Vietnam War. Police in riot gear and hippie girls sticking flowers in their guns. Lots more racial tension than here.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Excellent points. Besides, an American setting would have wider appeal.” She grabbed her phone and began to thumb-type at a furious pace.
“And we’ve lost her for the rest of the evening,” Randall said with amused resignation.
“Seal,” Di said, “let’s dance.” The two rose and left the table.
“Good idea,” Eden said, and she and Aaron joined them.
“Miranda?” Luke said.
“Yes, please.” As interesting as the conversation had been, she hadn’t come here to listen to commune stories. Besides, now that her buffers had gone, Luke’s mother’s gaze had fixed on her. She could stay and possibly be grilled, or she could check out Luke’s moves on the dance floor. Not to mention, feel his arms around her. Fortunately, the current number wasn’t a line dance, though it was more “country” than the music she was used to hearing in Vancouver clubs.
As she rose and put her hand in his, he said, “You know the two-step?”
“No, but you’ll teach me.” She had a good sense of rhythm and trusted her ability to pick it up.
“It’s two steps quick then two steps slow. That’s all there is to it.” Finding a space on the crowded floor, he took her in a dance hold. “We’ll start with the simple stuff, which is just walking. Me forward, left foot first. You—”
“Backward, right foot first. Got it.”
He led, and he did it well. Confidently, firmly, but not shoving her around. After they’d repeated the pattern a few times, going counterclockwise around the dance floor, he started to mix things up, twirling her out and back, or doing the steps side by side. It was easy and fun, not as sexy as she’d like, but they couldn’t exactly dance sexy with all those watching eyes. Even so, there was something distinctly sensual about it. Luke seemed so at ease, his shoulders square and strong, muscles flexing under her hand. Their bodies brushed in a tantalizing way as he swung her out and brought her back, and she gave her hair a toss and smiled up at him.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“Yes, though it’s not what I expected. When you invited me, did you know all your relatives would be here?”
“Not Annie and Randall, but Mom. After all these years, she still calls herself Forbes’s number one groupie. That’s how they met, you know.”
The song ended and they paused along with the other dancers, still in their dance hold, waiting to see what B-B-Zee would play next. “Fox-trot?” Luke queried as the music started, some dancers leaving the floor and others coming on.
“I think I’ve done it once or twice, but remind me.”
He set them in motion again, equally assured with the steps of this dance.
“You were saying,” she prompted, “about how your mother met Forbes?”
“He was with a band from Victoria and they came over to play at this hall. Mom was still depressed, two years after Dad died, and she never went out. I mean, except for work and buying groceries. Anyhow, this one night a couple of her girlfriends came over to the house and said it was an intervention. They fixed her hair and makeup, picked out clothes for her to wear, and dragged her off to the community hall. Sat her down, gave her a beer, the band came on. Forbes—who had a full head of hair back then, and the ponytail—played the guitar and sang, and Mom said her life changed in that instant.”
“Ms. Russo fell in love with a musician in a band?” She’d never have guessed that about her sciences teacher. “I don’t believe it! That’s the kind of thing I do.” She quickly amended that to “Used to do.”
“I’d sure never seen that side of her. She and Dad were always so practical. But they did both like music, especially folk music and rock. There was always sixties and seventies stuff playing in the house.”
“I guess there’s a part of every woman that wants the sexy guy on the stage. Wants him to strum his guitar and sing just to her.” And wasn’t that exactly how she’d fallen for the band member when she was fifteen?
“It’s a wonder the rest of us regular guys ever find a woman,” he said dryly. “Anyhow, Forbes fell for her, too. Mom had family and friends here, and a good job. I had friends, school. Mom didn’t want to uproot us. And Forbes really liked the island. Being a craftsman and a musician, he fit in great here.”
“Lucky them.”
“Yeah. Though Julian and I weren’t impressed at the time.”
She nodded sympathetically. After that, she and Luke were quiet, dancing to two or three more songs. This felt strangely right, even though the mood wasn’t exactly romantic what with the family members all around them. Aaron and Eden were dancing, and Di and Seal. She’d seen Sonia and her brother-in-law Randall on the floor for a number or two, but now they were back at the table. Annie had finally lifted her head from her phone and she and Sonia were talking intently while Randall gazed toward the stage.
The band started another number, a line dance. “Up for it?” Luke asked.
“Not in these shoes. Next time I’ll have to borrow a pair of boots.”
As they threaded their way off the dance floor, hand in hand, Luke said, “I need something cold to drink. Want anything?”
“I’ve still got half a beer, but a club soda with lime and lots of ice would be wonderful.”
“Back in a minute.”
He headed for the bar, and she made her way, on pinched-toe feet, toward their table. Used to be, she could wear pointy toes for hours on end, but this was only the second or third time she’d worn them since she’d moved to the island.
As she approached the table, Luke’s father-in-law rose and walked toward the hallway where the restrooms were located.
Leaving her alone with Sonia and Annie. She was tempted to redirect her steps toward the bathroom, but didn’t want to look as if she was running away. So she rested her hand on her dragon, hidden below the tight sleeve of her black top, summoned her courage, and went to sit with the older women. Drawing a dramatic hand across her damp brow, she said, “Whew. It’s a while since I’ve been dancing. This is fun. Ms. Russo, your husband’s band is terrific.”
As she’d hoped, the woman’s face lit. “It is, isn’t it?” But then her expression turned serious. “Call me Sonia. I’m no longer your teacher.”
“You remember me from high school,” Miranda said resignedly. “I guess it’s hard to forget the only Goth girl. I probably should have tried to blend in. But I was acting out.”
“Acting out of pain.”
Surprised at the woman’s insightfulness, she said, “I guess. And anger.”
“Life cut you a raw deal. You were unhappy.”
Well, duh. She shrugged.
“I taught your mother, too,” Sonia Russo said evenly.
“Oh my God. I had no idea.” She studied the older woman more carefully, seeing that her glossy black hair and smooth olive skin looked more like nature than artifice. “You don’t look old enough.”
“It was my first year.”
Afraid to ask, but too curious not to, Miranda said, “Was she really messed up even then?”
Sonia nodded. “Alcohol and drugs. More than just teen experimentation. I tried to help, but I was young. Inexperienced. She was having none of it.”
“Thank you for trying.” She swallowed, remembering a brief conversation after class one day. “You did that with me, too. Invited me to talk to you about what was going on in my life. But you were a grown-up and I didn’t trust grown-ups, so I blew you off. I’m sorry about that.”
The older woman gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re not the first teen to do that, and you won’t be the last.”
“To get back to the point,” Annie said. “Did you—”
“Annie,” Sonia silenced her with the word and a head jerk.
The last thing Miranda would have expected right now was to feel a smile rising, but she did, and pressed her lips together to hold it back. It seemed the two women had strategized this chat, agreeing that the more tactful Sonia would take the lead.
“Yes, to return to the point,” Sonia said. “You weren’t happy as a teen, Miranda. Are you happy now?”
“I . . .” Any impulse to smile died. Happy? What did that even mean?
“It’s not that tough a question,” Sonia said quietly.
“I just . . . Happy isn’t something I’ve thought about much.”
“Here’s the thing,” Annie said, scraping her shaggy paprika-and-salt hair back from her face with both hands and leaning forward. “We—”
“Annie,” Sonia broke in warningly.
“No,” Luke’s mother-in-law said to her. “It’s my turn. This time, it’s better to say things my way.” She stared at Miranda, not with hostility but clinically, like a scientist examining a specimen. “We love Luke. We love Brandon and Caleb. We were all shattered when my daughter died. My grandsons and son-in-law deserve the best. Another woman like Candace. A woman who knows what it’s like to be happy, to be fulfilled, to love and give herself freely. If you’re going to date Luke, we need to know that you’re that kind of woman.” She turned her stare on Sonia. “There, I’ve said it my way and I’m done. Your turn.”
“I’d have phrased it a little differently,” Luke’s mother said, “but I have nothing to add.”
And then both women turned narrowed-eyed gazes toward Miranda.
She didn’t have the faintest clue how to respond. Because they were right. Luke and his boys deserved a woman like Candace. And Miranda wasn’t that woman. She didn’t know what happiness and fulfilment felt like. It didn’t matter that she’d had a crappy childhood. She was who she was, and it wasn’t good enough. It never had been.
“Hey,” Luke said, coming up behind her and setting a glass of fizzy water on the table. “What’s everyone talking about?”
She picked up the glass, ice cubes clinking, and took a long slug while Sonia not so subtly elbowed Annie and said, “Oh, just girl talk. Nothing you’d be interested in.”