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“It wasn’t in the holster. The deputy took it out and laid it on the table between us when I turned down an offer he thought I’d jump at.” She paused, wiping her damp palms on the leg of her jeans. “He chose the wrong girl, I guess.”
Sam looked at the judge, who shook his head and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Can you tell me what that was?” He asked the question like he already knew the answer.
Moxie looked down and picked at a thread on the sleeve of her jacket. She waited a few seconds, then just shook her head.
The judge paused, then looked at Sam. “Do you think you might be able to tell Chief Draper at a later date when you’re more comfortable?”
Moxie looked over at Sam, her face pale and tense. She didn’t shake her head this time, but she didn’t nod, either.
“Just think about it. If there’s something we need to know, I trust that you’ll make us aware of it.” He paused to finish the tea in his to-go cup, then dropped it in the trash beside his desk. “I know you’ve had a long day, Moxie, and frankly, I’m looking forward to going home to my second dinner, so I’m not going to waste time here telling you what you did was dangerous.” He paused, tapping his pen on the desk. “We both know it was a poor decision. But based on what the chief said, I don’t think for a minute that you intended to hurt anyone, and because of the deputy’s actions before the event, it’s entirely plausible you believed your safety was in question.”
Moxie nodded, some of the color returning to her face as she waited for him to go on.
“I’ll get to the point.” The judge shuffled the papers on his desk until he found the one he needed. “Because you’re in the system already and underage, the obvious choice would be to find you another foster placement, but the chief here says she thinks that’s not the best choice for you.”
Moxie looked up at Sam in surprise, then nodded, swiping at a tear on her cheek with the heel of her hand.
“And frankly, I’m inclined to agree.” The judge glanced at Sam and went on. “I was a personal friend of her father’s, who was the chief of police here in McCall for over twenty years, and he and I cared a great deal about changing the way the foster system works.” His voice dropped to a softer tone. “It’s not working at all in your case, and I think it might be time to do something different, don’t you agree?”
“What do you mean?” Moxie looked at Sam, then back at the judge. “I’m not going to jail?”
“Well
, I’d give Moxie Java a swerve for a while if I were you, but I’m not sending you anywhere, actually.” He picked up a small white bag and slid a chocolate chip cookie onto his desk. “I’m not overlooking what you did today, but I don’t see you as a true danger to the community.” He paused until Moxie raised her gaze to his. “And I also don’t think justice will be served by transferring you into our overloaded juvenile detention system just because that’s the obvious option. I’m sending you to a counselor here in McCall, and you’ll also need to do fifty hours of community service before this time next year.”
Judge Hanson cleared his throat and signed the document in front of him, passing it across the table to Sam. “So with that in place, I’m granting Chief Draper’s request to be your temporary foster placement. I’ll make sure she has all the details concerning counseling and the community service as well. We’ll revisit this in six months and see where we are then.”
A tear dropped to Moxie’s cheek, and she looked from Sam to the judge more than once before she spoke again. “Are you kidding me with this?” Her voice caught, and she swiped at her cheek with her sleeve. “I thought my life was over after today.”
“Miss Moxie, your life is just beginning.” Judge Hanson leaned forward and caught her eye with an unexpected smile. “And I can’t wait to see what you do with it.”
* * *
Lily had just stepped aside to let Alex into the cabin when there was a sharp knock on the other side of the door. Alex returned to the door and peeked out the window before opening it again. A blonde leaned against the door frame, her bright golden ponytail swishing over her shoulder. She glanced past Alex to Lily, then promptly dropped her gaze to Alex’s mouth, whispering a few words that Lily tried not to hear as she busied herself unzipping her suitcase.
The day washed over her again, and she couldn’t even remember if she’d packed a toothbrush. Or if she had, where that might be. She sighed, running her hand along the side pockets of her suitcase more than once as she heard the door shut again. The sound of peeper frogs rose and fell outside the windows as she struggled with the main zipper, and the familiar sweep of mountain air, never still after nightfall, brushed itself against the black glass of the windows.
Alex grabbed some clothes from the chest of drawers next to the bed and smiled, walking backward toward the bathroom. “Sorry about that. That was Charlotte, the program director. I should have introduced you, but I’m sure you’ll meet her at breakfast. She said you’re here as a guest of Sam and Sara?”
“That’s okay. I don’t have the energy tonight anyway.” Lily paused, too tired to choose her words carefully. “Is she your…”
“Girlfriend?”
Lily nodded, unzipping the bag just far enough to reach the interior pocket but not so far that the entire contents would tumble out.
“No, not my girlfriend.” Alex stopped at the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, a sheen of lake water still glossing the sharp cuts of muscle in her arms. “She was here to give me the heads-up on your arrival, but she was late on the draw. I saw Sam dropping you off when I came out of the water.”
“Yeah, Sam and I have been friends for years. Coming here was a spur-of-the-moment thing.” Lily gave up the toothpaste hunt for a moment and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes as she looked up. “In fact, I didn’t exactly tell them I was coming, so it was a bit of a scramble to find me a spot.” She paused, unsure of how to address the elephant in the room. “Look, I would never have kissed you if I knew you had a thing with someone.” Her voice dropped off into the memory of Alex pressing her back against the Jeep, the warmth of her breath melting into her neck.
“You didn’t kiss me.” The record player jerked to a pause between songs as if holding its breath, then came to life again with a scratchy whisper. Alex’s dark eyes sparked as she raked her hand through her damp hair. “I kissed you.”
Lily pulled her toothbrush and paste from the pocket and zipped it back up, but by the time she’d looked up, Alex was in the bathroom and reaching into the shower to start the hot water. She looked down at the toothbrush in her hand, unsure of whether to go in or not until she remembered the clear glass shower door. She watched as Alex turned and stripped off her Speedo top, revealing a beautiful phoenix tattoo covering her from hip to shoulder, deafening and silent in sheer shades of fire, fading into tendrils of shaded smoke at her shoulder.
Lily hesitated as she turned back to the bunk. There was definitely a vibe between Alex and Charlotte, and the last thing she needed was to get involved in drama while she was here. She heard the bathroom door close gently and turned back around, realizing too late she was biting her nails, a childhood habit that had made a fierce comeback recently.
Why would Alex kiss me like that if she was involved with someone? She closed her eyes, trying to push back the memory. And why did it have to be so undeniably hot?
Her mind was still spinning as she pulled a water bottle out of her bag, brushed her teeth outside, then glanced around the cabin for a book to lull her to sleep. Now that she was really looking, she realized books were everywhere, stacked neatly in the bookcase and in random piles around the cabin. Even the record player on the corner table was perched on a somewhat precarious stack of antique novels. Lily glanced into the bathroom to make sure Alex was still in the shower and scanned the titles stacked on the windowsill beside the door. Lesbian pulp fiction by Ann Bannon, with characters like Beebo Brinker and titles like Women in the Shadows and Odd Girl Out, as well as books by Cuban and French philosophers, in addition to several library books she could only assume were permanently overdue.
