These Unlucky Stars by Gillian McDunn

Author:Gillian McDunn [McDunn, Gillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

CHAPTER

18

When I leave Gloria’s, I head for the barn. I’m the only one here, so I switch on The Earl’s radio.

It’s set to a country station, one of the few that we receive here in the mountains. The song is about being laid low by heartbreak. The music is smooth and easy, but the voice is on the rough side, like the singer’s been down one too many dusty roads. It’s a great combination—a perfect song for an afternoon in the barn.

I make a beeline to JoJo and The Earl’s float anyway—unlike Ray and Dad, they appreciate my help. Besides, JoJo is paying me in pie.

Their float has an oversize version of that split-down-the-middle table in their restaurant, and it needs a tablecloth. I grab my paints and get to work.

Filling in the yellow squares is calming, and I sink into the task like it’s what I was born to do. The barn’s wide-open doors allow me a glimpse of green trees whenever I choose to look up. And even when I don’t look up, the mountains send me breezes that smell like pine trees and sunshine. No matter what, my mountains know where to find me—how to remind me that they’ll always be there.

I’m so absorbed in the task that I don’t notice anyone coming into the barn.

“Hey,” Ray says from right behind me.

Startled, I jump in the air, sloshing paint from the container. Of course, with my luck, some of it splashes across the tablecloth’s tidy yellow squares.

“Ray!” I shout. “Don’t surprise me like that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he says. He grabs a roll of paper towels and helps me dab the cloth.

“Quit smearing it,” I say. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Dad has a meeting at Lulu’s tonight. He said we should do Friday night dinner ourselves,” he says.

“Weird,” I say. We always go to JoJo & The Earl’s as a family.

Ray shrugs. “Festival stuff, I guess.”

That must be it. With the big event only three weeks away, everyone in our town is turned upside down.

Thankfully, we’re able to scrape off most of the spilled paint.

“I wanted to finish tonight,” I tell him. “But I’m not even halfway there.”

He looks at me sideways. “Do you want my help?”

My first thought is, Absolutely not. I don’t want him to think I need him in any way, shape, or form. And shouldn’t he be working on the Logan & Son float anyway?

But this float is for JoJo and The Earl, and something tells me they’d want me to say yes. Besides, this tablecloth is plenty big.

I tilt my head toward the paints. “You can work on the red half if you want.”

He holds up a container. “This one?”

I nod, and he picks a brush that’s similar to mine. We each sit cross-legged on the base of the float, filling in our squares. Ray whistles along quietly with the radio.

When I take a break to stretch my fingers, I look at what he’s done so far. I didn’t expect him to be so quick—he’s almost caught up to me.

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