Page 147 of Highball Rush
The door opened and a woman with a crocheted shawl over a long, loose-fitting dress stepped out. Her dark silver-streaked hair was in a bun and she wore a wide tie-dyed headband. She had bangles on both wrists and a crystal on a chain around her neck. She looked around with a pleasant, almost dreamy smile. Henna Holly, the woman who’d become my mom.
Quincy came around the front of the van, still looking like he’d stepped right out of the nineteen-sixties. Long hair, gone gray, with a thin headband around his temples. His shirt had an apple on it and saidPierce Acres. Like Henna, he wore a crystal around his neck, along with wide-legged jeans and a pair of brown Birkenstocks.
“Oh my god, they’re here,” I breathed. “How?”
Gibson spoke quietly. “I called them. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” I said, tears already stinging my eyes. “Thank you.”
Gibson stood and helped me up. I waved to them and Henna noticed me first. She grabbed Quincy’s arm and pointed at me excitedly.
I ran toward them, Cash barking at my heels.
Henna’s open arms caught me. “Sunflower. Oh, my sweet girl.”
I hugged her, sniffing with happy tears. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“There’s our girl,” Quincy said.
Henna let go and I hugged him. “Quincy. You’re speaking again. Is your vow of silence over?”
He squeezed me tight. “Sure is. Just in time, too.”
Gibson stood behind me, one hand in his pocket, the other holding Cash’s leash. He watched us with a little smile on his lips.
“You must be Gibson,” Henna said, her smile wide. She grabbed his face in both hands and planted a loud, smacking kiss right on his lips. She stepped back and he blinked in surprise. “Aren’t you just wonderful. Look at his aura, Quincy. So strong and balanced.”
“I’m sure it is, my blossom,” Quincy said, his eyes crinkling with his smile.
“Sir,” Gibson said, holding out a hand toward Quincy.
Quincy seemed amused and shook his hand.
Gibson turned to Henna, hesitating like he was afraid she might kiss him again. “Ma’am.”
“No need for all thatsirandma’amstuff,” Henna said. She flicked her hands around, like she was getting rid of the bad energy of formal titles. “Henna and Quincy are just fine. What a beautiful town this is.”
Quincy parked himself right on the ground and Cash rushed over to lick his face.
“Gibson called you?” I asked.
Henna beamed at Gibson. “He sure did. Such a good man. He told us the whole story. Sunflower, I’m still not sure what to think. I’m so happy you’re all right. As soon as we heard, we knew we had to come down here. After all those terrible events, I thought you could use my help cleansing your energy. But look at you. Your aura’s so bright and lively. I’ve never seen you look so good.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ve never felt this good.”
She looked past me to the still-partying Bootleggers. “This looks fun.”
“Yeah, this is… well, that’s pretty much everybody.”
She clasped her hands at her chest, her wrist bangles dangling. “Oh, good. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”
Gibson and I took Quincy and Henna into the thick of the party. I introduced them to all the people I knew and loved here. The people from my past and my future. They spread hugs and their own brand of love all around. Henna gave out hugs and kisses like they were candy. She gushed about people’s auras and the beautiful divine energy the town emitted into the universe.
Quincy zeroed in on the moonshine, happily drinking and playing with Cash while his wife socialized.
“So that’s them,” Gibson said. He put his arm around my shoulders while we watched Jimmy Bob Prosser trying to teach Henna to square dance.
“That’s them,” I said.
