Page 6 of July Skies
Everyone groaned. “Model releases. Withkids.”
Dahlia shook her head. “Hold off on that. Going through those motions will mean half the town knows exactly what we’re doing here, and we needsomeelement of surprise. We’ll save it for later in the month. Today, we focus on establishing shots that don’t need releases.”
“Sounds good. When do we get the grub?”
They ate while going over the Fourth of July itinerary. Dahlia cared most about filming parts of the parade and the pop-up farmer’s market and festival booths littering main street. When she explained that there was a “quilting experience” going up at the library,the guys snickered. Dahlia quickly checked that.
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect. If there’s anything we want, it’s the creative side of these people’s minds. We came here to get their feelings toward their own town, didn’t we? What better way to get unfiltered access than at a craft show about that very thing?”
The guys exchanged looks and shrugged. “You would know better about crafting things than us,” Wayne said. Was that a reference to her short stint in crocheting a few years ago? Why had sheevertold him about that? “But sure. Sounds great. Haven’t filmed a good quilt show since my grandmother’s birthday three years ago.”
“You guys laugh, but I’m dead serious.”
Not many of them knew this, but Dahlia once came from a place not too unlike Paradise Valley. Sure, it wasn’t primarily made up of LGBT people of any flavor, but many of the same markers were there. The tiny schools. Few staples around town. Higher prices because of “shipping costs.” For every person driving a mediocre vehicle, there was one in a real stinker that needed to be hauled away to the landfill. People were polite on the outside, but inside, they gossiped about who you were and what you were doing in “their” town. The highlight of the Fourth of July celebrations was a small farmer’s market and the quilt show at the library. If people wanted fireworks, they drove two towns over in the evening. Otherwise, it was barbecues as far as the eye could see. (Now, another difference between Paradise Valley and most other small towns? Those barbecues could be nothing but hamburgers and hot dogs. Or they could be pure vegan fare. The town seemed to be split on that, based on the number of restaurants advertising their vegetarian menus.)
So Dahlia knew what the underlying words and looks meant. She also knew how much pressure places like these put on the peoples who lived there. Her own mother… well…
Once upon a time, my mother fancied herself a lesbian. She left my dad, left me, and ran off with a woman ten years younger than her to live in some New Mexican village that had a uteri-only rule.Dahlia’s mother had flitted in and out of her life ever since then, sometimes with a new woman, but always with new excuses. She loved to crow about how much better life was in the southwest, where nobody but the sun bothered her. Apparently, Arizona and New Mexico were big places for the discerning middle-aged lesbian ready to leave her family and start all over again. This time without the kids underfoot.
Dahlia got it, to an extent. Especially as she grew older and felt the constraints of life upon her shoulders. That didn’t mean she agreed with what her mother did, however. Child Dahlia? The one left wondering how her mother could leave her so easily? Let alone a man who had been nothing but nice to her although they both knew the marriage was on the fast track to Divorceville? That child was still pissed the hell off that a woman could be so selfish.She didn’t try to take me with her. She was so enamored with her new lesbian life that she high-tailed it for New Mexico as soon as she could afford a bus ticket.
Dahlia knew she couldn’t hold it against every woman of a certain sexuality. That was silly.Lesbiansweren’t responsible for her mother abandoning her family. It could’ve been anything. Could’ve been a cult, for God’s sake! Or maybe a traveling circus looking for a new woman to clean the lions’ cages. Child Dahlia had spent many nights trying to understand what was so appealing about the lesbian lifestyle that it could pluck women out of their homes and into the unknown.
She supposed that was a giant lure for her to take on this project. She wanted to understand what towns like these were like. What were the stories of the people who lived here? What was really in it for them? Did it bother them that men lived among them, or was it a safe space where they didn’t worry about what women in other small towns fretted over on a daily basis?
I bet the mayor has a lot of interesting things to say about her life.Oh, Dahlia had done a little digging. Karen Rath had an easy-to-research history. Such as her first marriage going down in flames and her… taking the kids to Paradise Valley.
Interesting, wasn’t it? The mayor didn’t seem to be in a relationship, but she had chosen Paradise Valley as her eventual place to live.At least she brought her kids with her, though.Was Karen gay? Was she bi? Did she have any real stake in life in this small town, beyond how easy it was for her to become mayor? After she won her first election against another local, Karen had run uncontested for almost seven years. Before that, she was on the city council, so it wasn’t like she had come completely out of nowhere from somewhere else.
Except she had chosen Paradise Valley for a reason. She immediately got involved with the community. She bought a recent Victorian-styled home and raised her two children to adulthood all on her own. A woman could make a documentary aboutjustKaren Rath and have compelling stories to share with a willing audience, but she was only a small piece of the Paradise Valley puzzle. Dahlia wasn’t above looking around the room and seeing a million other stories waiting to be told.
She figured most people would want to talk about the horrible lives they left in their old small towns and families. Or they’d gush about meeting the love of their lives. “Finally having a place to settle down and feel normal.” They would gas her up with so many feelgood, triumphant stories that Dahlia would struggle to see the truth in their positive fogs. There was no way a town could be comprised ofcompletely goodpeople. Somewhere, in the depths of Paradise Valley, there was a woman who had abandoned all of her responsibilities, the people counting on her, and the experiences that had made her who she was. She had come here to “start all over again,” because to some women, exes and children were things to forget.
Her colleagues would warn her that she treaded dangerous trails. Allowing such bias into her work – let alone consciously – would color the film. She had pitched it to Mayor Rath as a tourist-building exercise that could leave Paradise Valley on top. If she released a film that demonized half the residents, she’d not only be in hot water with this tiny city council… but, quite possibly, the people beyond these city limits.
How much was she willing to risk to dig into the truth?
Chapter 5
KAREN
She couldn’t walk two feet from her car, which was parked behind the city hall to make room for the festivities in the main parking lot. Well, she couldn’t walk without one of her two children baawing about something or other.
“Can I have a few dollars?” Christina cried from the passenger seat. “Also, can I borrow the car to go see…”
Karen slammed a ten dollar bill into her daughter’s hand. “The car stays here, okay? I need to know where it is at all times. Besides, there’s nowhere in this town you can’t walk, especially on a nice day like today!”
“You sure you don’t want me down at the American Legion Hall?” Xander tightened the cords of his hoodie.Good Lord, he looks like he’s about to rob the Pump-and-Go.Did he really have to come into town unshaventoday?With a black hoodie and old, worn jeans? Was this his protest against being the mayor’s son? “’Cause I have some time before they’re expecting me at the library.”
“I appreciate you wanting to help, Xan.” Karen patted her son’s shoulder before turning around. The commotion of the people in the parking lot summoned her like a moth to a flame. “But I think they’ve got cleanup from the pancake breakfast taken care of. Keep your cell phone on and check for a text from me sometime, huh?”
She kissed both her children on the cheek. Xander was at an age of finally accepting his mother’s goodbye kisses – after a teenagedom of“Ew, gross, Mom!”of course. Christina barely grinned and bore it like a seasoned champ, used to her mother laying smackers on her cheek outside of softball practice and junior prom.Did she think she’d get to dress up like a Gen Z princess andnotget a kiss out of her mother?Christina cleaned up like the best of the Disney royalty. Her strawberry blond hair had come from her grandmother – Karen’s mother, of course – and those dimples screamed her father when he was a young boy. With those genetic powers combined, she was destined to be the next Cinderella or Aurora.
Not that one would ever guess that looking at her now. Youth was the only thing on Christina’s side as she strutted about in denim shorts, Converse shoes, and a baggy sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and with those sunglasses on, she looked like her Aunt Giselle – father’s side, of course.
“Don’t you wander off too far!” Karen called after her daughter. “Stay in the city limits, and let me know when you’re going home!”
Xander patted his mother’s shoulder. “You can’t control the young cub, Mom. She must go off and get into teenaged trouble. Why I bet she ends up preg…”
