Stardust Miracle Read online

  If someone needed a website, Derek was their go-to guy. Thin with glasses, he even looked like a geek. But he had a sweet smile and his shyness was kind of endearing. It made Becky want to cuddle him in the same way she wanted to cuddle kittens and small dogs.

  She didn’t know why some girl in her twenties didn’t snap him up. As if reading her thoughts, Derek smiled at Becky then shuffled his papers.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Gloria leaned across the table. “The roads aren’t going to fix themselves.”

  “Gloria’s right about the roads.” Derek turned to Earl. “We could go to the state for funds.”

  Earl’s fist thudded on the table. “No damn way I’m asking the state for anything. We don’t want the state poking around in our business.”

  Becky took a gulp from her bottle of water. She suspected Earl had let his licenses or permits for his taxidermy business lapse...if he ever had them. He probably didn’t report his income. She set down her bottle and saw that the left side of Derek’s mouth, the side away from Earl, was kicked up.

  So, Derek had said that on purpose. Living with Elaine, he’d learned how to be sneaky. How to say one thing and think another. How to convince someone they wanted to do something when they originally wanted to do something else.

  The unwritten job description of a minister’s wife.

  She blinked. Where did that thought come from?

  “We could sell the old Chevy dump truck to Trey Nieman,” Earl said.

  Trey?

  “What dump truck?” Becky asked, even as her brain cells woke up. The cells in the rest of her body brightened, too.

  Trey had been the bad boy in high school in Tomahawk, two years ahead of Becky. He lived in Tomahawk, while she was bussed there. With his dark hair worn long, as if he flaunted his quarter-Ojibwe blood, he was the guy that every girl’s father warned her to stay away from.

  Not that Becky had wanted to go out with Trey. Everyone knew she and Jim were perfect for each other. Besides, Trey had made her nervous. Too much testosterone for her back then.

  “The pile of rust behind the village garage,” Gloria answered Becky’s dump truck question.

  Becky nodded. Trey did pretty much the same thing as her brother-in-law. The difference was she’d heard Trey made money at it.

  “How much is he offering?” Gloria asked.

  Becky’s mind wandered. She’d been relieved when Trey left for California shortly after she started college. According to gossip, he’d only returned a couple months ago when he found out he had a seventeen-year-old son. Apparently the bad boy was turning out to be a good man.

  Welcome back to small town Wisconsin, she thought. Where the beer flowed freely, the village board president didn’t pay taxes and the biggest entertainment was each other’s lives.

  “Two thousand,” Earl said.

  That got Becky’s attention. She sat up straight.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Gloria demanded.

  “I’m trying to get more.”

  “What’s it worth?” Gloria asked.

  Earl scowled at the fake wood table top, as if it had done something to offend him besides being ugly. “I looked ’em up. Depends on the condition.”

  “That thing’s so rusted it doesn’t have a condition.”

  “I got him up five hundred. I can get him up five hundred more. Some old ’55 Chevy dump trucks sell for five figures.”

  “Does ours run?” Derek asked.

  “Nope. But it could be fixed.”

  Gloria rolled her eyes. “When’s the last time you took your car in for anything? It costs a bundle. And that’s when there are parts available.”

  Earl transferred his glare from the table to her.

  “Let me bargain.” Gloria’s eyes gleamed. “That’s what I do best. I’ll know when he’s ready to walk away. I’ll know when he’s bluffing.”

  “What’s he want it for?” Derek asked.

  “He thinks someday he might use it for a movie,” Earl said.

  “Someday?” Now Gloria’s face looked like a toddler’s when he or she was about to spit out an ‘icky’ food. “That doesn’t sound promising, but if anyone can do it, I can.”

  “I vote that Gloria handle it,” Becky said. “And I vote we go ahead and fix the pothole. It won’t break the village, and people are getting cranky about it.”

  Derek and Gloria quickly put in their ayes, then Earl said he was the president and he was the one who should say they were voting.

  “Then vote to end the meeting,” Gloria said. “My feet hurt and I’m going to soak ’em.”

  “None of us need to know about your feet or any of your body parts,” Earl said, but he did announce the end of the meeting. Then he noted with surprise that they were done early and he should get back home to watch his favorite TV show.

  Gloria asked what it was, and he was about to say when Becky reached for her brownie container to put the lid on. Earl slapped his arm forward to grab two of them, moving fast for a man of any age. Becky suspected he would have grabbed more but Gloria and even Derek reached in to take two each, then wrapped them in napkins.

  Becky couldn’t help but think she’d done something right.

  Putting the cover on the container with its lone brownie, she scolded herself. What was wrong with her lately? Acting like she was walking around with a dark cloud over her head, when she was one of the luckiest woman in the village. Sure, her life wasn’t perfect, but self-pity was like quicksand. Dip one toe in and it slowly sucked in the rest of you, until you were drowning in gloom.

  As she walked out with the others, Gloria slapped Earl on his back. “Don’t be so grouchy. Selling the old dump truck hardly counts as a change.”

  “That’s what people say when they feel a tremor in their house. The next thing you know, it’s a full-scale earthquake and the walls are falling down.”

  “You’re confusing an earthquake with the big bad wolf,” Becky said.

  Gloria laughed. “If it were up to Earl, the village newsletter would announce a new motto for Miracle: Leave everything as it is. Do nothing. Because nothing is always better than something.”

  “You should’ve heard the other mottos,” Earl said.

  “What’s that?” Becky asked, only because she could tell he wanted someone to ask. And she always did what someone wanted, even when she was thinking about eating the last lone brownie as soon as she was in the car. If she waited until she got home, Jim would pounce on it as if he were starving. As if he deserved it.

  A sudden cold wind whipped at her as she and the others reached their cars. A reminder that spring might be here but if Mother Nature were so inclined, she could still drop a blizzard on them.

  “We had a contest for a motto just after Vietnam,” Earl said. “None of you were born yet.”

  “How come I never heard it?” Gloria looked at Becky and Derek. “Did you know about it?”

  Becky and Derek shook their heads. Shrugged their shoulders. Another wind gust hit Becky.

  Shivering, she sent a silent message to Earl to hurry. She wanted to go home. She wanted to turn on the heater. She wanted a few moments with her husband.

  Once Jim found out the brownies were gone, he would probably go into his office. Maybe she wouldn’t eat the brownie after all... Maybe if she didn’t, he would sit and eat the brownie and listen while she told him about the meeting.

  “You don’t know about it,” Earl said, “because Becky’s grandpa refused to let us use any of the top choices. Said we’d be a laughing stock on all the comedy shows. That even the news shows would make fun of us.”

  Becky frowned, not surprised. She remembered her dad’s father was always serious. Always ready to give his opinion. Whether it was wanted or not.

  “C’mon, Earl,” Gloria said, “spill. I’ve got a bottle of Merlot waiting for me at home.”

  “It’s been a while, but the brain box is still ticking.” Earl knocked his knuckles on his he
ad two times. “Here it goes.” Of course it didn’t go immediately. He looked around, his lips pursed, making sure he had their attention. Only then did he nod. “‘Don’t give a damn.’”

  Laughing, Becky put her hand over her mouth.

  “‘Under the radar.’” He winked at Becky. “If I remember right, that was from your Uncle Sam.”

  Still choking back laughter and with her hand covering her mouth, Becky nodded, though the motto would fit a few dozen villagers. Sam was her mother’s stepbrother, but she and Sarah still considered him to be their uncle.

  “Your mom liked that one,” he added.

  Becky’s laughter stopped. Her hand slid down to her side.

  “Is that it?” Derek asked, which was verbose for him, since he usually never spoke unless asked a question directly.

  “Two more. ‘We can always secede.’”

  “Are you making these up?” Gloria asked.

  “Nope. Ask around. I’m not the only one who remembers. You wanna hear the last one?”

  Becky nodded, an odd feeling building in her chest. Her mother liked ‘under the radar’? She mostly remembered her mother in the last few years. So sick and so needy. Always apologizing to Becky. Making Becky cry because she wanted to help her mom. Wanted to.

  And at the same time she hated helping. She wanted to be like the other girls. With her mom healthy and taking care of her.

  “What are you waiting for?” Gloria asked. “A drum roll?”

  Earl grinned, his face pasty in the dusk, almost skeletal – though there was nothing skeletal about his belly. “‘Screw the government. They’re screwing us.’”

  Derek and Gloria laughed, and Becky even chuckled. She could think about her mother later.

  Or not.

  “That one was from you, right?” she asked.

  He nodded, and his grin turned sober. “Might be a good one for you to remember.”

  Then he opened the door and got in.

  Becky looked at Gloria, who shrugged then mimed someone gulping down a beer and pointed at Earl’s car as the motor of his old Ford revved up. Becky smiled. Earl liked his beer, though she’d never seen him drunk.

  Derek’s car door shut, then Gloria got into her car and Becky got into hers.

  As she started home, she thought of Jim’s surprise when she came home early from the board meeting. Probably the first time in two years.

  She smiled slowly. Thinking of an even better surprise.

  Chapter Three

  Becky stepped out of the garage and looked up at the stars that had popped out during the drive home, reminding her of last Sunday in the parking lot. Tonight it felt as if the stars were putting on a light show for her. A sign from heaven, telling her life was good and she needed to laugh more, dance more, love more.

  Maybe that was the miracle – for her to enjoy life.

  Even the wind had died down during the short drive home. A sure message from Mother Nature.

  She laughed softly. She wasn’t delusional. But tonight anything seemed possible. Even miracles.

  She turned to the house, feeling as if a tiny star had slipped inside her chest. Blinking off and on. She felt hot. Hot all over but mostly down there.

  Okay, she could think it. She could even say it. In her vagina.

  “Vagina,” she murmured low so no one else could hear. Not that there was anyone around, but it was amazing to her the things that people in Miracle knew about each other. She wouldn’t put it past them to hear about what she’d said, somehow.

  And tonight she felt like she might finally have something besides her thoughts to hide. Now even her skin was hot... Hard to believe that just seven minutes ago she’d been shivering in the village hall parking lot.

  She shivered again. Maybe this was early perimenopause... Or it could be her hormones jumping, saying this would be the time for her to get pregnant.

  The thought made her heart thump like a manic rabbit’s.

  Inside the house, the lights were on, but it felt silent. As if it were waiting for something.

  The parsonage with the four bedrooms, three bathrooms and one office was too big for the two of them. Their cat had been devoured by a coyote three weeks ago, and since then it felt even emptier. Lucy the cat had tolerated Becky and adored Jim, but at least Lucy had been company for Becky when Jim was at church. Becky had wanted a dog but Jim said he was allergic to dogs.

  Becky always nodded when he said that, not letting him know his mother let slip that the truth was Jim had been bitten by a Cocker Spaniel when he was five, and had never gotten over his fear of dogs.

  She opened the office door but there was no light inside, just shimmers coming through the windows from the stars and the moon.

  “Jim!” she called, walking through the house. She ran upstairs but there was no Jim anywhere. Finally she went downstairs again, to the kitchen, where she looked for a note.

  Nothing on the counter. She dug her phone out of the purse she’d left on the table and checked her messages. Nothing from Jim. Just a voice mail from her father, saying he had a craving for meatloaf and the next time she made some for Jim, he’d appreciate it if she made an extra loaf for him and dropped it off at his place. She translated that to mean he wanted it tomorrow.

  She’d planned on making a Mediterranean dish with leftover chicken from tonight, but she could make meatloaf. It wasn’t her favorite meal, but that didn’t matter. After all that her father had done for her and Jim, making him a meal every once in a while was no big deal.

  She just wished her father would do as much for Sarah. With Sarah’s son and another child on the way, and her husband not making much at his business, Sarah was the one who needed Carl’s help.

  A picker, her father liked to spit out, as if Marshall’s occupation left a bad taste. Marsh bought old junk that he hoped to sell for more than he paid. He drove all over the state, and even neighboring states, hunting for bargains and steals. Sometimes leaving Sarah and Cody for days.

  Becky liked Marsh, but she doubted he made enough to afford good health insurance for his family. She felt sorry for Sarah and ignored Jim’s stricture not to mention her sister’s name to their father. But as usual, Jim had turned out to be right. Trying to get her dad to help Sarah was harder than trying to lose ten pounds.

  But tonight she felt…different. The extra padding she was usually so self-conscious about didn’t feel so awful. Tonight she felt voluptuous. Sexy even.

  The shimmers coming in from the window like dust motes danced around her. She spun around, dancing with them. They seemed to shine brighter for an instant. The next instant they vanished.

  She stood still for a moment. “What are you?” she whispered. “And why me?”

  No one answered her question. Her hands curled at her sides. Her silly questions. There was no message from God in the parsonage. No mischievous angel, no Disney character on the loose. Just a moonbeam, and now a cloud had drifted over its source of light.

  She stepped out the back door and into the backyard. Jim’s car was in the garage. Since he’d left no message, she could only think of one other place he would be.

  He’d planned to work tonight on next week’s sermon. He’d probably gone to his office at the church to look up something, and that led to something else he needed to look up, which usually led to another thing.

  Sure enough, his office light was on. The shades were down, but light seeped around the edges. She took a step on the grass...and then stopped. An idea bubbled up inside her.

  With a giggle, she hurried inside and up to their bedroom. Crouching in front of her dresser, she pulled out the bottom drawer closest to the wall. The one she only opened every month to change the sachet. And as she took out the top negligee, she smelled the lavender.

  Lavender was supposed to be the smell that made men...well, horny.

  She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. The shimmers still inside her danced wildly, as if something were waking up. As if somethin
g good were going to happen.

  “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, oh, oh.”

  She set it on the bed and started to undress. Jim was going to be in for a surprise tonight.

  *****

  Becky ran across the grass and laughed at her brashness. She wore her tan trench coat – her church coat – over her red negligee. Tonight she felt free. With a sexual appetite and playfulness she hadn’t felt for a long time.

  She couldn’t swear that what she planned had never happened in the church, people being what they were. But it had never happened in the church before with her and Jim.

  Laughter spilled out of her mouth, and she only stopped because she was breathless from an overload of excitement. The need to experience something more with her husband had been building inside her for a long time. Now it was finally boiling over – leaving her lightheaded and unlike her usual self.

  She liked these feelings. Liked this side of her a lot.

  When she’d stepped out of the car tonight and looked up at the stars, something happened. Something changed. For so long, she’d been carrying a dark weight around with her. Going through the days and nights trying to say and do all the right things, when inside something had felt all wrong.

  She’d lost the joy in her life. Hadn’t been fully living...just going through the motions. At only thirty-six, she’d felt old and dried up.

  Now she felt young again. Free.

  Jim wouldn’t know what happened to his proper wife.

  She reached the church’s back door, using it instead of the front entrance because she didn’t want anyone passing by to see her. Not that there was anything wrong with going to see her husband. But if anyone mentioned her late night visit, her face would probably turn the color of a ripe tomato and give away what they’d done.

  She slipped the key into the lock but it turned easily. She stepped inside. Jim must’ve come in this way and forgotten to lock the door behind him. He was always preoccupied with his work and his parishioners.

  She admired that. She did. But once in a while, she wanted his mind, plus a few body parts, to be on her.

  And not just when her body temperature was right for conception.