Compassion. Worthy. Revealing. Those words kept going through Emma’s mind as she got the rest of the dumpling out of the refrigerator and carried it out to the porch. The few times she’d tried to go outside by herself in the dark after she had come home from college, she had had a panic attack. That night she eased down into her chair, but her chest didn’t tighten up and she had no trouble breathing. Out in the distance, a coyote howled, and another one farther out answered him. The mountain, more than a mile out there, was a black blob with a half-moon hanging above it. A single star left a million others behind, trailed by a long tail as it streaked across the sky.
Sophie had told her when they were children that you got a wish when you saw a star falling out of the sky. The only other time that Emma had seen one before that night was the evening before she went off to college. That night she wished for the hundredth time that she would someday be a famous artist.
She watched until the shooting star was completely gone and then shut her eyes and wished that she could remember those repressed memories. Not knowing was harder than facing the fears—or was it? She frowned at the thought. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as Sophie thought she was, or even as that quote on her wall talked about—could she reveal parts of herself that she worked so hard at hiding? Would knowing what they were destroy her altogether?
“You couldn’t sleep, either?” Josh’s voice coming out of the dark startled her so badly that she almost jumped up and ran into the trailer.
He was standing at the end of the porch steps, and Coco chose that moment to jump up into her lap. She remembered what she had wished for and wondered if fate had sent Josh to help her.
“Yes. I mean, no. What I mean is that I couldn’t sleep.” She hoped that she didn’t sound like a total idiot. “So, you have trouble sleeping, too?”
“Yep,” he answered. “Sometimes a walk helps me calm down. I have trouble settling down at night. No, that’s not right. I have the same trouble in the daytime, but my artwork helps me with that.”
“ADHD?” she asked.
“They tested me for that and thought I might be in the higher-functioning range of the autism spectrum, but the tests were all in the normal range.” He sat down on the bottom step. “My mother tried to diagnose me with her own psych tests and finally decided I’m socially challenged. Daddy said I was just lazy. Mother said I could overcome it with lots of therapy.”
“Mother has always said that I’m antisocial and basically that I can’t take care of myself,” Emma blurted out and wished she could take the words back. She didn’t talk to very many people, most especially to a man she didn’t even know, and she surely didn’t tell anyone personal things like that, but there was something about Josh that she kind of trusted.
Josh chuckled. “Well, I’m that, too. Probably the reason I’m uptight tonight is that Arty and I are going to the store tomorrow. I hate to leave the trailer park, but Arty is right. I need to face my fears at least once a week.”
“I’m afraid of men.” Emma’s voice seemed to have a mind of its own.
“I’m uncomfortable around men and women,” Josh admitted.
“Why?” Emma asked. This wasn’t a contest between them.
“I’m afraid they’ll make fun of me, like the kids did when I went to public school. My folks finally hired a tutor and I finished my schooling at home.” He didn’t look at her but at the porch floor.
“I had the exact same life, but Sophie is helping me to be strong. We probably both should tell folks to go to hell if they don’t like us.” A surge of protectiveness shot through her. She had always wished she had the courage to say those words to the kids who bullied her because she was so shy, or better yet, to her mother.
“Aw.” Josh grinned. “I can’t do that. It just ain’t in me. Accepting who I am has been one of the good things about living out here in the boonies.”
“I hope that I can do the same thing someday.” Emma’s tone sounded wistful even to her own ears. “I sure like it here. There’s something eerily peaceful about this place, even at night.”
“Does the dark bother you?” Josh asked.
“Maybe,” she answered. “How about you?”
“I love the night. When I was a little boy, I used to crawl out on the porch roof and pretend that I was the only one in the whole world. Just me and the moon and the stars,” Josh answered. “No one was ever mean to me in the night.”
Emma couldn’t agree with him there. Whatever had terrified her had happened at night. Even though Victoria scolded her for being a big baby, she still had to have a night-light or she couldn’t sleep at all.
“I should be going. Nice visitin’ with you.” Josh stood up and waved over his shoulder as he disappeared into the darkness.
Whatever I don’t want to remember happened at night, and it had to do with a man and satin sheets. She rubbed Coco’s fur from her head to the end of her long, fluffy tail. I know that much, but the rest is a mystery. Josh is a nice person. I’m not afraid of him, but maybe my fear of men has been because I was assaulted.
The cat purred loudly, then jumped down off her lap and ran in the same direction that Josh had gone. Emma stood up, went back inside, put on her jeans with the borrowed nightshirt she was wearing for the second night, and shoved her feet down into the cowboy boots beside her bed. Courage. That’s what the quote on the wall said. If she couldn’t sleep, she’d see if Josh’s remedy to take a walk in the night would help. She made it to the bottom step before she lost her courage and turned around to go back to her chair.
Then Josh appeared out of the darkness again. “I didn’t go far, but I’m not ready to turn in just yet. Want to stretch your legs a little bit?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
“How about just once around the trailer park? That might help and you won’t be more than a stone’s throw from your own place,” he suggested. “I’ll be glad to go with you.”
You are strong. You can make your own decisions. Sophie’s voice was clear even if it was just in her head. Josh seemed like a nice person, but the thought of leaving the safety of the porch made her chest tighten, but it was time. If she wasn’t going to do anything but sit in a trailer, she might as well be back at the center.
“Okay.” She took several deep breaths and stopped just short of leaving the porch steps.
“You haven’t seen the back sides of the trailers yet,” Josh said. “They’re not all just alike. Sophie’s place here is a two bedroom, but that one”—he pointed—“is a three bedroom. The snowbirds that come in late October to winter and rent that trailer are the Howard couple. They make quilts while they’re here. They each use a bedroom as a craft room.”
Emma didn’t even realize she was off the porch and on the ground until they had passed that trailer and he was pointing at the next one. “This one is a lot like your place, only the bedrooms are on either end of the trailer. The Johnston couple stay here. They’re into making Christmas tree ornaments from wood, mostly scrub oak, that they find out there in the desert.” He waved toward the land between the park and the mountains.
“Christmas tree ornaments?” She could hardly believe that she was walking beside a man and didn’t feel like running away and hiding, or that she was enjoying the short trip around the trailers.
“Yep, they sell them online,” he answered. “He’s got a little scroll saw and she’s pretty good at painting them.”
“Who stays in Sophie’s trailer in the winter?” she asked.
“The Bluestones from up north in one of the Dakotas. They collect bird feathers and make jewelry out of them,” he answered.
There went any hope of Emma renting it on a permanent basis like Filly and Arty did. She was amazed that the thought even entered her head, but if she was going to be independent like Victoria said, she would need to find a place of her own and a job.
“This is my place. It’s the smallest of all the trailers and only has one bedroom.
I’m more comfortable in small places than big ones,” Josh said.
“Did you grow up in a huge house?” Emma asked.
Josh nodded. “It overwhelmed me, so when I bought this place, I chose the smallest of the trailers, and I’ve never regretted it.”
She could well understand what he was saying. She wouldn’t regret living in a trailer the rest of her life, either. “I was raised in a huge house, too. I had my own suite of rooms on the second floor, and my nanny had her own rooms right next to mine. The house has always overpowered me . . . ,” she said, “or maybe it overwhelmed me. Whatever the word is, I’ve always wanted something small.
“I wanted to build one of those tiny houses, but my mother said no,” she continued. “You’ve got a table back here, too. Is this where you work?”
“Sometimes,” he answered, “when I don’t need to be by myself. On the other days, I take my equipment out toward the mountains and work out there.”
They rounded the curve, and Josh whispered, “This is Filly’s place. She and Arty live here permanently. I’m glad they do. They’re like grandparents to me.”
“Oh, my!” Emma gasped when she saw dozens of hummingbird feeders hanging across the back of the long trailer.
“That’s where we get the name,” Josh explained in a serious tone. “Hummingbird Trailer Park is located on Hummingbird Lane. In most places, that species shows up in the spring and then migrates in the winter, but we’re just far enough south that we have them all year. We buy sugar in twenty-five-pound bags so we can keep them happy.”
“What’s with the long table and chairs?” Emma asked.
“That’s where Filly works when the weather is nice. She loves company, so anytime you feel like it, just pop around here and watch her paint.” Josh kept walking.
“And this last one is Arty’s place. You can see that he has a workbench. He does metal art, and he has a welder to help with some of it. Things get pretty messy in our backyards, but it doesn’t matter. We’re all artists of one kind or another.” He rounded the end of Arty’s trailer. “And that’s our supper table. Want to sit awhile?”
Emma covered a yawn with her hand. “Maybe another time. I’m really sleepy right now. Thank you for the tour.”
“You are very welcome. I’ll walk you to your porch, since you ain’t too fond of the dark,” he said.
“That’s so sweet of you.” She smiled.
When they reached the bottom of the steps, he backed off several feet and said, “Good night, Emma. Feel free to roam around anywhere you want. You are safe here.”
“Thanks again.” She nodded and opened the unlocked door.
“Hey, are you all right?” Sophie rubbed her eyes as she poured a glass of milk.
“I couldn’t sleep, so Josh showed me around the trailer park, but I can hardly hold my eyes open now.” Emma yawned again. “Did you have trouble sleeping, too? And why is the door unlocked?”
“We never bother locking doors out here,” Sophie answered. “If you’ll remember, we drove five miles on a county road to get to the trailer park, and Hummingbird Lane is a dead-end road. Teddy called. It’s already breakfast time in France. He’s done over there and is flying to New York today. Hopefully I’ll get to see him in a couple of weeks.”
If Emma ever did have a relationship with a guy, she wanted it to be just like what Sophie had. She wanted to have the same gleam in her eyes as Sophie had.
“Will I be in the way when he comes to see you?” Emma asked.
“No, honey, by then you should feel right at home here in the trailer. Teddy will pick me up and we’ll go on a little mini vacation for a few days or maybe a week if he can be away that long. I’ll leave the SUV for you in case you get stir-crazy and want to take a drive,” Sophie said. “But that’s only if he can take the time off.”
“How do you manage a long-distance relationship like that?” Emma asked.
“It works for both of us. We love each other, but we’re kind of married to our careers,” Sophie answered. “Want a glass of milk before you try to get some sleep?”
“No, I’m good.” Emma went to her room, kicked off the boots and her jeans, and got back into her bed. She closed her eyes and went right to sleep.
Chapter Six
Emma couldn’t remember a time when Victoria had not preached—more like drilled into her—that the clothes make the woman.
“She is so right,” she said to her reflection in the floor-length mirror hanging beside the living room door. “And this is the woman that’s been hiding inside me for years.”
“What was that?” Sophie asked as she came out of the bathroom with a towel around her body.
“The clothes do make the woman.” Emma twirled around and checked her reflection from the back. “I love being able to order things and have them delivered right to the house.”
“That orange tank top matches the gauze skirt just perfect. That bright color puts a tint of pink in your cheeks,” Sophie told her. “Are you going to eat with us tonight—no pressure, but you look so pretty.”
Emma took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. She wanted to go eat with Josh, but to do that, she would have to get over her fear of strangers. “I’m not afraid of Josh. I was comfortable with him when we took a walk the other night. Part of me says I can do this without knowing why I fell apart, but the other part wants to know the truth so that I won’t be afraid to go eat with nice people.”
“You ever think that hiding from the truth is what put you where you are right now?” Sophie asked.
“No, but you could be right.” Emma nodded. “And I want to be stronger physically”—she took a step away from the mirror—“and mentally healthy.”
Sophie turned around and started for her bedroom. “The first step in getting well is facing the problem head-on.”
“You really sound like a therapist now, but I know you are right. To get through the present and into the future, I have to figure out the past. That’s what has put me where I am. I wish I’d faced it when it happened.” Be careful what you wish for—you just might get it. She remembered her father saying that when she was a teenager. She tried to think about why he had said it, but nothing came to mind.
She wondered if he was talking about the fact that he had married Victoria for money. Did he ever wish that he had never wanted to live in luxury, or feel that he’d paid too high a price for it? No answers fell out of the cloudless blue sky, but Emma thought that just maybe that’s what he was talking about when he cautioned her about making wishes.
Sophie returned with her damp hair still hanging limp and went straight for a drawer in the kitchen. “Want a rubber band to pull your hair up in a ponytail?” Sophie laid a couple on the bar.
“Sure.” Emma nodded.
“Mother has told me ever since I was twelve years old that grown women don’t wear ponytails, braids, or pigtails.” She combed her hair up on top of her head with her fingers and secured it with a band just like Sophie had done. When she finished, a couple of strands escaped to frame her delicate face. She glanced back in the mirror again. “I like it.”
“Keeps it off our necks,” Sophie said. “Are we ready?”
Emma fought the urge to twist her hands.
“If you get uncomfortable, just say so. This small crowd understands, believe me.” Sophie looped her arm into Emma’s and urged her toward the door.
“Glad to have you with us,” Arty said when Emma sat down beside Sophie.
Filly and Josh sat across from her, and Arty had the place at the end of the table.
“Thank you,” Emma said just barely above a whisper as her heart warmed toward these strangers.
“Tonight, we’ve got smoked brisket,” Arty announced. “I started it this morning at five o’clock, so it’s real tender. I made potato salad and baked beans to go with it.”
“And I brought a relish tray and a blueberry cobbler,” Filly added. “And, darlin’, you look lovely this evening. You remind
me of myself when I was your age, but, honey, if you’re going to be a hippie, you need some jewelry. We’ll fix you up with that after supper.”
Before Emma could answer, Arty bowed his head and began to say grace. When the amen was said, she raised her head and, for the first time, noticed that Josh had a short brown ponytail at the nape of his neck. She could feel the chill of Victoria’s disapproval from almost three hundred miles away. Perhaps it was the distance between them, but she shook off the icy feeling, and just that gesture gave her courage.
“It’s good to see you smile,” Sophie whispered.
“Didn’t realize I was,” Emma said out of the corner of her mouth. “I was thinking about how I didn’t really care who disapproved of me tonight.”
“Good for you,” Sophie said. “Arty, as usual, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“I get lots of planning for my projects done when I’m cooking. Today, I decided to make a windmill while I made the potato salad,” he said as he passed the food around.
“What about you, Filly?” Emma asked, surprised that she could open her mouth at all. “Do you plan out jewelry while you bake?”
“No, when I bake, I sing. When I go to bed at night, I think about the jewelry I’m going to make the next day. Sometimes I even dream about it,” Filly answered.
“Me too,” Josh added. “But I get my best ideas when I’m taking a midnight walk. How about you, Sophie?”
“This year, I’m doing a series of landscapes from the back porch of the trailer, and I plan to go into the Big Bend park and sketch out a few places that I didn’t get to last year. I’ve got an idea book that will keep me busy until I die,” she answered.
Emma wanted to belong to this group in more ways than just eating supper with them. Filly made fancy jewelry. Josh did drawings, and Arty worked in metal. Sophie worked in oils. If Emma picked up her brushes, her work might be trash, but at least she would fit in with the rest of the trailer court family.
“You’ll be painting when you’re a hundred years old, won’t you?” Emma ventured another question.
Hummingbird Lane Page 9