One by one, the dirtbags had left to spend the holiday with their families—all except for Gridwall, who wasn’t welcome at home. Megs had expected to spend another Christmas alone. She had resigned herself to a Christmas Eve of stars and instant noodles, when Dean pulled up in his van and told her to pack her shit and climb in.
“God, that was a fun trip. We sang along to his eight-track the entire way. I’d never been to the city. I was so excited to see the Golden Gate Bridge.”
But Dean had been plotting with Mitch.
“I didn’t notice that we’d driven to Stanford. When we turned that corner and I saw you waiting on the sidewalk in front of your parents’ house, I couldn’t believe it.”
Megs could still remember the elation she’d felt at that first sight of him, their first kiss, the feel of his arms around her, the scent of his skin. “We kissed in the back of the van while poor Dean drove to his sister’s place in the city. To be fair, four months is a long damned time when you’re seventeen—or twenty-two.”
Dean’s brother Chris, and his sister-in-law, Renee, had welcomed them like family, giving Megs the guest room while Dean and Mitch slept on the family room floor. They’d even had gifts for them.
“They gave me one of those newfangled climbing hexes. You gave me another book—Kerouac’s Scattered Poems. That was the first Christmas since my father’s death where I felt like I had a family. You and Dean had become my family—and the dirtbags, too.” Megs laughed. “Gridwall and the others were the dysfunctional cousins.”
They’d spent ten whole days together from Christmas Eve through New Year’s, sharing a kiss at midnight, starting 1974 together.
“You leaned in close, nuzzled my ear, and said, ‘This is the year you and I become lovers.’ I melted. Damn. That still gets me.”
Then, all too soon, it was time to go. Dean drove Mitch back to Stanford to face his parents’ anger for having ditched them. Megs kissed him goodbye. Then she and Dean made the long drive back to Joshua Tree.
Grief broadsided Megs as it often did when she thought of Dean, her throat going tight. “He was like a big brother to me and a good friend to you.”
Heart heavy, Megs set the journal aside and went to stand next to Mitch once more, taking his hand. “I miss him. I know you do, too.”
She set Mitch up with the recorder, waited until he got another dose of morphine, then kissed his cheek and headed back to the hotel to catch up on sleep.
Chapter 14
Megs satin the hospital lobby, enjoying another lunch from Knockers, while Rain, Sasha, and Rose shared the news from Scarlet.
“Last night’s Town Council meeting was chaos.” Rain shook her head, frustration on her face. “You’d think that last year’s fire would have taught people the importance of fire mitigation. We’ve removed all the trees close to our house.”
“That’s only because you’re smart.” Megs wasn’t surprised to hear the Town Council was getting pushback from the proposed fire-mitigation ordinance. “Some people don’t have the common sense that God gave a goose.”
Rose shrugged, the tassels of her black lace shawl swinging. “People are connected to trees. We evolved in trees. Trees were sacred to the Celts. Trees connect us to our past and our spiritual side.”
“You know what else trees do?” Megs had never had much patience with Rose’s brand of New Age bullshit. “They catch fire and burn.”
Rain pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. “If you’d been there last night, you’d have shut down that nonsense.”
“I’ll have another chance.” Of that, Megs was certain. There was no shortage of nonsense in Scarlet. She turned to Sasha. “How’s the Team?”
“Conrad is doing a fantastic job. He’s a good leader. Everyone has pulled together. We’re putting in extra hours and making sure everything gets done the way you’d do it—gear inspections, inventory, debriefings.”
Megs felt a sense of pride. The Team was their baby—hers and Mitch’s. They’d put everything they had into it in Dean’s name, and now it was strong enough to go on without them. “Please thank everyone for the extra effort.”
Then Rose brought Megs up to date on the gossip. “Bob Jewell drove to Food Mart wearing only flip-flops, underwear, and his wife Kendra’s floral bathrobe to get some salsa for his breakfast eggs. I was there and saw it myself.”
“That sounds like Bob.” What else could Megs say?
“Marcia, the bartender at Knockers—”
“I know who Marcia is.”
“She’s dating the drummer from the Mudbugs. I saw them together after the show. They were kissing. Marcia has alotof extra second-chakra energy, so…”
Jesus, help me.
Megs might or might not have rolled her eyes. “Good for Marcia.”
