Page 25 of Mountain Grump
I fill the vase half full of water, then set it next to the sink and dry my hands on my skirt.
I chose my pale blue sundress today.
It’s a little plain. Knee-length. And made from jersey cotton, so it hugs the contours of my body more than my more structured dresses do. But I like the white bow woven into the low neckline and the fact that it has a built-in padded bra. The boob situation is nearing indecent, but I’m not in the mood tocare. If I have to remove my ribbon and go get groceries today, then I’m going to be comfortable. And this dress does that.
I pick the vase back up and slip my feet into my leather sandals, then open the front door.
Bright morning sun greets me, and I smile against the warmth.
Before I start, I tuck the vase against my body, careful not to spill the water, and reach under my skirt.
From the pocket sewn into the thigh of the thin shorts I have on under my dress, I pull out my phone.
After unlocking it, I open my music and hit Play on the one album I have downloaded.
The soundtrack toMoulin Rouge!
I was flipping through apps on my phone this morning while lying in bed, trying to see if I had anything that could entertain me without internet, when I stumbled across my music library.
Back home—back in Vegas—I streamed music when I wanted it. Never saw the point of buying songs.
Now, I see.
But thankfullypast mebought this soundtrack on impulse years ago. Which I’d forgotten about until I came across it.
Music playing, I slide my phone back into my pocket, my skirt falling back to my knees.
Humming yesterday was annoying. I’m not a good hummer. Or singer. But I know I have to make noise while I’m outside.
Or at least I’m pretty sure about that.
I don’t really have a way to check that fact until I go into town later, but I swear I remember Uncle Jack telling me something about making noise so you don’t accidentally surprise a bear with your presence.
Better safe than sorry, I let the tune distract my thoughts as I step off the front step and head toward the box I left outside yesterday.
As I bend down, reaching for the scissors I threw in here yesterday, I notice the strand of beads draped over the edge of the box.
Every bit of it is covered in a thin layer of dirt, and it takes me a moment to remember that this must be the strand I dropped yesterday.
Did the grouchy park ranger pick them up?
Leaving the strand where it is, I grab the scissors and head for the first patch of flowers.
Chapter 12
Ethan
I turn off the engine.
There’s no need for me to be on this side of the park.
Not this far out.
There’s no need for me to go check the perimeter fence.
Not after checking it yesterday.
There’s certainly no need for me to see if Tilda is home.
