CHAPTER 1
Well, it wasn't Dodge. It was Chicago. Nevertheless, she'd gotten the heck out of there on the last day of the year. Chicago that is. Sydney Hovan's red Jeep towed a rented trailer jammed with the contents from her Chicago condo. Five more miles, and she'd exit I-90, pay her toll, and take the bypass around South Bend, Indiana, to her old and new home in Moon Lake. She intended to leave the horror, disappointment, and loss that invaded her life the last few months and start over with No Drama. No Men. And No Heartache. She left that behind when she crossed into Indiana from Illinois. She was twenty-five minutes from her new old home.
Old home because she'd purchased her childhood home from her mother, who had moved in next door with Sydney's Great-Aunt Lois. Even though at ninety, Lois was the sharpest tack in the whole family, the old farmhouse was getting a little big for her to handle confined to a wheelchair or scooter. New home because Sydney planned to stay there forever, safely tucked away in rural peace. No Drama. No Men. No Heartache. That phrase was her new mantra. One she intended to repeat until it became ingrained in her brain.
At least, the year was forecasted to end on a high note with clear skies and highs in the upper 50s. That was a good omen, right? Three months ago, when her life started to go sideways, she'd given up on logic and started reading the omens. They'd guided her through the horror.
This morning at 4 am, she slipped her keys through the managed community's office slot and left. Traffic had been light most of the drive, but it had been slowing for the last mile or two. Please God, let there not be an accident, and if there is, please no fatalities or serious injuries. Losing a loved one was awful any time but losing a loved one on a holiday seemed to double the pain.
She was now parked behind a semi. GPS indicated they were still a half-mile from the toll booth. Not what she had hoped for, but a half-mile was better than five. Keeping traffic moving was a priority for the troopers who patrolled the roadway. She was confident they were doing everything they could to move the line along. Gathering her long brunette hair in the black hair tie she had wrapped around her ring finger, she arranged her hair into a ponytail and stretched. Every muscle in her 5'10' frame ached from packing. Twenty minutes after she cleared the toll booth, the unpacking would start. Her muscles wouldn't mind a small reprieve.
One big decision loomed ahead. She needed to make it and make it soon before the special zoning provision ran out. She'd told herself she was coming home to start a dance and music studio in the old schoolhouse on her family's property. But opening would violate two of her three new rules. She was a Ballroom Dance Teacher, which meant men and women dancing together—thus violating her No Men and No Drama rules. What to do? She was waiting for an omen to guide her. The omen was taking its sweet time to find her, or maybe, she'd missed it.
Right now, all she wanted was peace and the chance to hide away and wrap her energy around herself. Probably, the word was cocoon.
Dancing was all she knew, and she'd been self-employed for most of her life. So, if she didn't teach, what would she do? That question had kept her up at night for weeks. What did she want to do? Teaching dance was in her DNA. Every time they drew blood, a little sparkly dance shoe dropped out her arm, passed through the needle, and into the vial. Okay, so perhaps that was a little over the top, but it was true. Teaching was more than what she did. It was who she was. If she went to work for someone else, she'd have to follow their rules-following rules, not her thing. She couldn't even follow her own rules. That's what started this mess. She had a rule against fraternization. She'd broken it. It broke her.
Ah, the lights of the toll booth were in sight. Men with flashlights walked around. Please tell me this is not a scene from some movie. The dude who starred in the TV Movie about living under a bubble was from South Bend. Maybe life had imitated art, and alien terrorists had erected a bubble over the city. Or an army of Mutant Ninja Turtles had taken over. Boy, she needed food. The late nights packing and the early morning breakfast had taken their toll on her brain.
One more car ahead, and she'd be free. Beams of light bobbed and wiggled. State Police Officers examined cars and opened trunks inspecting the inside with flashlights.
“Please, God, don't let them ask me to unpack this trailer. If they ask, they are doing the unpacking and repacking. The car in front of her pulled forward, and she moved into the space the officer indicated.
“Ma'am, I need you to open your trailer for me.”
“Of course, you do. I'll do it on one condition,” she said with a huge smile. “If you promise to repack whatever falls out.”
A slight grin crossed his face. “It's that jammed, huh!”
“You'll see.” She opened the Jeep's door and walked to the rear of the trailer. “What's going on?”
“We have a report of a fugitive headed to the area.”
“Oh, wow, what did he or she do?” She asked as she unlocked the door and slowly swung it open.
“I'm not at liberty to say.” He lurched forward and grabbed two lampshades as they fell from above. He laughed.
“You were telling the truth. Not a spare inch in here. Where are you headed?” he asked, shining his light around.
“I'm moving back home to Moon Lake.”
“Well, I'm convinced no living soul could be hiding in there. Welcome home. Lock your doors. Don't pick up any strangers.”
He helped her push the door shut.
“Thank you, Officer. May peace and protection surround you. Happy New Year.” He held the door of her Jeep as she climbed in and drove forward to pay her toll.
He was nice. That was a good omen. A fugitive on the loose, not so much.
CHAPTER 2
The longing to get home fought with the growl in Sydney's stomach. Swinging by Candy's Bakery and Cafe, which was actually a truck stop, Sydney grabbed a box of the best donuts in the world and took the winding and rutted back road into Moon Lake. Not the best choice pulling the trailer, but the donuts were worth it. Two delicious chocolate yeast donuts with heaping chocolate frosting later, she pulled into her drive. Not Mom’s drive, she realized. But hers. All these years, it had been Mom’s drive. The commitment was real. A small knot created by fear, hope, and uncertainty tightened in her gut. She was still getting used to the idea. It was so quiet. Horses whinnied nearby. Cows responded. Life was slower here. As if the landscape was in constant meditation.
Unhooking the trailer hitch and hopping into the jeep, she headed next door to Great-Aunt Lois's farmhouse to pick up the keys.
The sight of Lois's old farmhouse always made Sydney feel grounded. Its twisting gravel drive wound around a couple of barns before looping in front of the house and crossed Moon Lake Road to zigzag towards another barn and the pasture. The front of the house, like Sydney's house, faced Moon Lake. Closing the donut box and licking her lips to clear away the evidence, she parked outside the two-story white farmhouse with green shutters.
Before Syd was halfway to the door, the elderly white-haired matriarch of the Collins Family barrelled out of the kitchen's side Dutch doors and down the walk on her red scooter.
“Sydney, my dear,” Lois said, wrapping her arms around Sydney. “Glad you are home. Get yourself in here.”
Lois looked at the box. “You've been to Candy's.”
“Yes, I have.” Syd rubbed her stomach. “My stomach was growling, so I made a detour. I got your peanut butter donuts.”
Lois held the door.
“Ah, you remembered. Move along inside, dear. My mouth started watering when I saw the box.”
Syd walked through the door and braced for the force to hit her. How did one explain the essence of all those ancestors' thoughts, personalities, and legacies gelled into one presence? Couldn't be described—only experienced. This house had been in the family for decades. Countless problems had been solved around the old oak table in the kitchen. Tiny fragments of all those who had lived in this house remained and mixed to form a strong family aura.
It told tales of pioneer women and men who fought the land, weather, disease, poverty, and the government to build a home and a place that stood proud. They were strong but compassionate, loving people who stood up for the rights of others. The bitterness that invaded so many had never stood for long inside these walls. That was the real reason Sydney had come home. She feared if she stayed in Chicago, bitterness would invade her soul.
Lois put her hand on Sydney's arm.
“I know, Dear, whenever I'm gone from here for a few days, the presence overpowers me when I return.” She rolled to the cookie jar and grabbed the keys from behind it.
“Before I forget.” She dropped the keyring in Syd's hand.
“Thanks!” Lois was an amazing woman. She was ninety years old and, aside from the wheelchair, didn't look a day over sixty. Her white hair was always perfectly styled, and no matter what, she always wore earrings and a necklace. Her necklaces had become a little longer over the years. Sydney guessed Lois chose necklaces she could slip over her head because clasps were hard for aging fingers.
Lois lifted a peanut butter donut from the box.
“So, how was your trip? And. How are you?”
That was an excellent question.
“I'm fine. I think. As for my trip, it was good until I hit the toll booth. The State Troopers were looking for a fugitive believed to be in or headed to the area. They stopped every vehicle, which slowed progress.”
“Oh, that's exciting. Do they need any help?”
Sydney laughed. So, like Lois.
“It looked like they had things under control. Given your reputation, maybe they'll call you in for the takedown.”
“We'll see,” Lois chuckled.
She'd known Lois forever. Granted, she'd been in Chicago these last twenty years, but she'd come home for visits, and they'd stayed in touch. Lois's chuckle wasn't as enthusiastic as usual. Lois wasn't telling her something. She looked as vibrant as always. So, probably not, Lois's health. Something about the family, the farm, or Moon Lake? Hmm.
“So, what's been happening around here?”
“Oh, we'll get to that another day.” Lois leaned in. “Have you made a decision about the old school and your dance studio?”
That was another good question.
“Sort of?” Not really, but she didn't want to admit that. She'd had more than enough time to decide. That darn omen was tardy.
“I checked. If I'm going to do it, I have to be open in two weeks or lose the zoning. I could refile, but I know Diane Clark would fight me every step of the way. Funny the timing of all of this. I'm leaning towards opening the studio.”
Lois looked her in the eye.
“But something is stopping you.”
“Yeah. I made these new rules. ‘No Men, No Drama. No heartache.’ It’s hard to have a dance studio with no men. And men plus women equal drama.”
Lois rolled to the counter and returned with the coffee pot.
“Sydney, I don't want to push you into something you don't want to do.”
“See, that's the thing. I can't see myself not doing it. I just don't know if I have the emotional energy or can harness the enthusiasm.”
Lois reached across the table and touched Sydney's hand.
“Dear, you've been through a rough patch. Your heart and soul have been beaten and broken. It's natural for you to feel as you do. I've been around awhile. I have found refurbishing the old and making it new heals our souls at the same time.”
She hoped Lois was right. Her heart and soul needed healing. Major healing.
“Well, your wisdom is seldom wrong.”
Lois's eyes grew wide.
“Seldom. My wisdom is always spot on.”
Laughter rang from Syd's gut.
“It's your story.”
“You were taught to never disagree with your elders,” Lois said, smiling.
“Okay, well, then I guess I'm opening a dance studio in Moon Lake.”
Lois breathed a sigh of relief.
“That's good because Able Heinz will be here any minute. I contacted him to give us a quote on some landscaping for the building.”
Syd shook her head.
“Somehow I knew, this was going to be a family affair.”
Lois shrugged.
“What can I say, Dear? I love progress. Our family built this town. It's our duty to continue the tradition.”
One of the things Syd learned early growing up as part of the Collins Family, the prosperity and aura of Moon Lake, was almost as important as The Collins Family's abundance and happiness.
“If you say so, Lois. Who is Able Heinz?”
“He's new in town. I wanted to help him get established.”
As if on cue, a tan truck pulled into the driveway. The words were too far away to read, but the logo included trees. Probably a good indication, Able Heinz was here.
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