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  “I don’t know why anyone would love this place,” Lara muttered. “You weren’t born here. You don’t understand what it’s really like.”

  “You take Perry for granted because it’s all you’ve known.”

  “I know Oklahoma City.”

  “You only lived there for a few years. I’m the one who grew up in OKC, and even I never fully understood it. Like you said, it’s too big to know.”

  “Well, Perry isn’t. I know Perry,” Lara stated, “and it’s not as great as you think it is.”

  “I think that’s a matter of opinion. There’s no right answer to this argument.”

  Paige was right. This was a pointless argument. She wasn’t going to convince Paige of anything, and Paige wasn’t going to convince her of anything. They were both too stubborn for that.

  “Also I can’t really use this in the article,” Paige said. “The entire point of the contest is to show how great Perry is. The News Organization doesn’t want a hometown hero who hates their hometown.”

  That was exactly why Lara hadn’t wanted this role. She wasn’t right for it, and she didn’t deserve it. Just because Betty and April wrote in to say how worthy she was didn’t make it true. Like every other aspect of Lara’s life, other people’s assumptions did her more harm than good.

  “So, what can you use in your article?” Lara asked. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t want you to fake it.”

  Lara was pretty sure that wasn’t meant as a double entendre, but she couldn’t help but think of the other connotations.

  “I’m not going to be great at this,” Lara warned. “I do want to try, at least, but I don’t think I’m the right person for this contest, so you might be disappointed.”

  “If you don’t consider yourself a hometown hero, why agree to be a part of this project?” Paige asked. “You never answered me before.”

  Lara hated talking about her grandmother. It made her too sad, and she was already in a bad mood. She might as well tell Paige the truth, though.

  “For my grandma.”

  Paige scrunched an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

  “She nominated me. She started her family in Perry. She loves this place. I want to make her proud before she…” Lara’s eyes welled up. She wanted to blame the assaulting red lights on the voice recorder, or the way the bitter coffee beans bit into her taste buds, but it was useless.

  “Hey.” Paige sounded panicked. She reached beneath the table to put a hand on Lara’s knee, but Lara swatted it away.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Sorry.” Paige took a moment to recover. Lara needed it too.

  “She’s sick,” Lara said, finding the strength to be curt. “I just want to make her feel a little better.”

  “I’m sure your grandmother is already proud of you.”

  She was. Lara didn’t need Paige to tell her that. “Thank you.”

  Lara didn’t know what else to say. Paige didn’t either. The silence was awkward, but Lara was thankful that Paige was giving her the time she needed to collect herself instead of trying to make her feel better or changing the subject.

  “That’s enough for today,” Paige decided.

  That was more than enough for the rest of Lara’s life. She knew this wasn’t going to be fun, but she didn’t think she’d have a complete breakdown and end up near crying.

  “If you make it to the next round, I’ll call you again. With those better questions you want.”

  “Don’t count on it. No one’s going to vote for me.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you got a lot of initial nominations. I bet you ten dollars you make it through to the next round.”

  Wow. What a generous offer. Lara groaned.

  “I’d start prepping for another interview if I were you. Do you want to go ahead and schedule to meet up on Friday?” Paige asked.

  No. No, she did not. But more importantly, she couldn’t. “I have a date.”

  “Ah.” Paige seemed slightly surprised, but Lara didn’t care. She had more things to worry about than the thoughts that went through Paige Daley’s head. “Next week, then?”

  “Fine. But could we maybe not do it here? Mozart isn’t the place for this.” Lara gestured around the table. Whether she was referring to Paige’s mess strewn out around the too-small table or her own mess of a self, she didn’t know.

  “Sure. Your place or mine?”

  This time the double entendre was definitely purposeful. Lara was starting to regret mentioning that date. “Just call me. We’ll work out the time and place.”

  “Are you actually going to answer my questions next time?” Paige asked. Her tone was half-joking, half-insulting. It was punctuated by what Lara had to admit was an elegantly raised eyebrow.

  “I’ll answer. I’m the one who called you to set this up, wasn’t I?”

  “You were.” Paige’s faith seemed to be restored as she began to collect her things. There was no order to that madness. She picked up small pieces of paper, then stuffed bigger notebooks on top of them, then slipped more article snippets on top of that pile. How Paige ever managed to keep anything organized enough to function, never mind be a journalist multitasking several articles at once, Lara never had found out, no matter how much time they’d spent together. Some things in life were meant to remain mysteries.

  “I’ll do some work. Get ahold of you when I think of some good ideas.”

  Lara could see Paige’s brain working a mile a minute. It exhausted her.

  “Do you need a ride home or anything?” Paige asked.

  “Don’t push it.”

  “I’m just trying to be friendly.” Paige held up her arms defensively, then slung her bag around her shoulder. She’d never been one for purses, but the attaché suited her. She looked professional. Sort of. Her hair was slightly unkempt, and her bag bulged with the amount of stuff she was forcing it to carry, but her outfit looked nice. What little makeup she had on wasn’t too smudged.

  “We’re not friends,” Lara said. “We’re…” She tried to think of a term that suited them. Enemies came to mind, as did two people who should never interact but are being forced to. “Business partners,” she decided.

  “Partners, huh?” Lara knew that lilt in Paige’s voice all too well. It made the last bit of sludge in her coffee cup somehow more bitter as she chugged it down.

  “Paige, you’re pushing it again.”

  “Sorry.” She adjusted her bag and glanced toward the door but made no move to leave. Her weight shifted from foot to foot as she looked back at Lara. “Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not doing this for you.”

  Paige nodded. “Still. This means a lot to me. I promise it won’t be as horrible as you think it will.”

  When Paige was being sincere, it made her voice go soft, as soft as her eyes looked right now. Lara couldn’t bear to be too mean to her.

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Lara’s thumbs kept poor time on her steering wheel as she tapped out the drumbeat to some pop song on the radio. She fiddled with the dials, turning the volume up, then down again when it got too loud. The more she played with the radio, the slower its clock seemed to tick. The colon between the hour and minutes blinked back at her like a set of fluorescent-green cat eyes. She was set to pick Kerry up from work at five, but it was only 4:52 p.m. Two more songs and then a DJ bit. That was when Lara could go inside Taylor Made without looking overeager.

  The song faded away, was replaced by another, and some minutes later Bobby Berns, the KFZW 98.6 FM DJ, talked over the last strains of Adele’s latest. “A chilly but sunny evening tonight. Expect an early sunset and temperatures dropping significantly after nightfall. Things should warm up again slightly at the start of next week. Enjoy these days while we have them, friends.” Betty had said something similar more than once.
r />   A knock pounded on the window next to her ear. Lara jerked in her seat to find the clock ticking at 5:02 and Kerry’s face smiling at her through the window. Lara rolled down her window halfway, and Kerry leaned against the sunken glass.

  “Are you my Uber?”

  “I’m getting paid for this?” Lara asked. “This is already the best date I’ve ever been on.”

  Kerry chuckled and circled around the car. She let herself into the passenger seat while Lara fidgeted with the radio again, turning it down so low it was almost inaudible.

  When Kerry sat down, she seemed unfazed by the disarray of the vehicle. “I gotta say, it’s way nicer seeing you here to pick me up from work than the bus driver.”

  “Next time I ride the bus, I’ll tell them that.”

  “Don’t! I’ll get banned for life.”

  “Who needs public transportation anyway?”

  “People who care about the environment. And who don’t have their driver’s license.”

  “Oh, so you’re one of those people.” That earned Lara a slap on the arm.

  “So what if I am?”

  “No worries, I like it. So, where is it you’re taking me exactly?”

  “You’ll see when we get there. Just drive.”

  “Drive where?” Lara looked out at the parking lot for an answer.

  “Just go.” Kerry waved her toward the main road. “I’ll be your personal GPS.”

  Kerry was so mysterious. It wasn’t the same as when April or Paige tried to be secretive or mischievous; Lara could see right through them. But she didn’t know what to expect from Kerry yet. They had never seen each other outside of Tight Knit, and Lara couldn’t imagine what Kerry enjoyed doing during her spare time other than knitting. It was exciting getting to know someone new. She tried to suppress her smile and kept her eyes on the road to avoid catching any distracting glimpses of her passenger.

  Kerry directed her turns, and it wasn’t long before they were outside of the town center and driving away from anywhere Lara would have guessed they’d be going. The city turned to country, and Kerry didn’t correct her path.

  “I’m kind of scared to keep driving,” Lara admitted after some time. “I have no idea where we are. Are you sure your directions are right?”

  The road they were on was barely paved. It stretched forward endlessly over the rolling green landscape. There were no turns, no exits. Kerry could be leading her out into the middle of nowhere to murder her and hide the body, for all Lara knew.

  “We’re right on track. You may not know where you’re going, but I do.”

  “Have you been here before?” There was nothing to see out here. Only grass. Not even trees. “Why would anyone come out here?”

  “I used to live out here,” Kerry said.

  Finally a sign of life as they passed a dairy farm. Still no humans in sight, but there were plenty of cows. “Uh, is your family Amish?”

  “Shut up. We’re Pentecostal.” Kerry slapped her again. Lara’s hand jerked lightly on the steering wheel, but there were no other cars around for them to swerve into.

  The drive wasn’t actually as long as the never-ending stretch of nothingness made it seem. Lara didn’t quite know where they were, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they were still technically within Perry’s limits. Kerry had brought her somewhere identifiable only by the sign on its gate: Clandestine Orchards.

  Calling the place an orchard was a stretch. It was a small farm, if anything. A stretch of apple trees loomed in the distance, but the highlight of the acre was right behind the gates: A small barn was set up as a market space, and beside it, several families wandered through a pumpkin patch. A tractor loaded up a group of passengers in its hay-baled trailer and slowly set off for a ride around the farm.

  “They have the best cider here. I’ll buy us some.”

  By the hand, Kerry dragged Lara into the renovated barn storefront. The old wooden walls blocked out the chilly gusts of wind, and the aroma of spices and fresh fruit filled the space. Fresh jams, candies, and apple butter lined the shelves, and the counters were stocked with trinkets and baubles, key chains, and branded apple corers. Everything was hand-packaged and homey, and Lara let the warmth of the atmosphere settle into her bones. Memories of Christmas shopping in small stores as a child came to mind. There was so much to take in that Lara didn’t know where to start.

  “Do you like caramel?” Kerry asked, picking up a small package of it. “They make their own here. It’s amazing.”

  Lara nodded. Kerry grabbed a few other things and paid for them while Lara looked around. The first thing to catch her eye was a fresh pumpkin roll. Lara hadn’t had one in years. They were Paige’s favorite, but she preferred pumpkin pie.

  Kerry returned with a tap on Lara’s shoulder and a bag full of goodies. She handed Lara one of the two cups fisted in her palms and resituated her plastic bag to grab it by the handles instead of letting it dangle from her forearm.

  “What all did you get?” Lara asked.

  “Try the cider first.”

  Lara obliged. The liquid was warm and sweet on her tongue. It was thick and velvety, and left Lara smacking her lips. She hummed her pleasure, and Kerry nodded in agreement. “Right?” Kerry took a sip, and Lara peeked into her bag.

  “Jesus, there’s like four jars of jam in there. How hungry are you?”

  Kerry pulled the bag away from Lara’s judgment. “I refuse to eat store-bought jam when this place is right here. I stock up every fall.”

  “So our date is me taking you grocery shopping?”

  “No, our date is you and me drinking cider in the pumpkin patch. Let’s go.”

  The air was chillier as they stepped out of the barn, but it was crisp, not cold. It was perfect sweater weather, and Lara was dressed in one her grandmother had made her.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Kerry drank in a large breath, as if she couldn’t get enough fresh air into her lungs, as if she wouldn’t be satisfied until the entire sky was inside her. “I love it out here. Especially this time of year. There were a lot of shitty things about my childhood, but growing up out here in the country was not one of them.”

  This quietude of this place made Perry seem bustling. The buzz of insects preparing for winter replaced the electronic hum of cars and lights. Grass replaced the old brick roads that should have been taken down and replaced a long time ago. It was a whole different world out here. It was peaceful, but strange, and definitely nothing like her life in Oklahoma City. This would be a good vacation spot, a nice getaway if she wanted some peace and quiet. She couldn’t say whether she would have liked growing up here. She was a city girl at heart, but then again, maybe living on the outskirts of Perry would have shielded her from its judgment.

  “There’s beauty in everything if you look for it hard enough,” Lara said. “It’s all about perspective. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that.”

  “My eye doesn’t have to look very far to see the beauty here,” Kerry said.

  “This place is nice,” Lara said, but she only meant the farm. “I never thought Perry was all that beautiful. I went to college in Oklahoma City and moved back there a couple years ago because I loved it so much.” Lara bit her lip and debated whether or not to tell the full story. Something about Kerry invited her to open up. “This girl I knew in college, Paige, is from OKC and lives here now. She was going to move back to OKC after a couple of years, but I guess she changed her mind because she thought Perry was beautiful. I just don’t see it.”

  Kerry scrunched up her face. “I hate the city. There’s no green. It’s too loud. There’s beautiful parts too, I guess—museums and monuments—but it’s not somewhere I could live. Oh, here’s a good spot!”

  She pointed to a bed of hay that had been picked nearly clean of pumpkins. A couple of misshapen gourds were nestled into the haystacks, but plenty of the bales were barren, and there was more than enough room for the two of them to sit down without getting in any an
yone’s way.

  Lara sat first. Her shirt rode up slightly as she leaned back against the haystacks, and a piece of straw dug into her side. “I don’t think I dressed for the occasion.” She tugged down her sweater and tried to get comfortable, then glanced up at Kerry, who was still standing. “You look great, though.”

  “Thanks. I tailored the outfit myself.” Kerry gave a spin and a wink. Lara tried not to blush as Kerry sat beside her.

  “Do you like fashion?” Lara asked.

  “I wouldn’t say it’s the most important thing in the world to me, but I probably like it more than most people.”

  “I only ask because you always look so great.”

  “You’d be surprised at the difference between an outfit straight from the store and that same outfit tailored to fit you specifically. When you’ve got the skill set to alter your own clothes, it’s a lot easier to look nice. I appreciate the compliment, though.”

  Lara blushed again. She hid the redness behind her cup.

  “I guess part of it is how I grew up too,” Kerry said. “When you don’t have much say in what you wear as a kid, you compensate by fixating on your outfits as an adult. You saw me in high school. There aren’t a lot of fashion choices when you live in a cult.”

  Lara felt her eyes grow wide. “Wait, your parents were in a cult?”

  Kerry laughed. “No, not really. We didn’t drink Kool-Aid or bathe in goats’ blood or anything like that. We didn’t lead a conventional life either, though. It may as well have been a cult. Just a more socially acceptable one that doesn’t lead to murder or jail time.”

  Lara laughed, but felt a little guilty about it. She had always made fun of Kerry for her religious expression back in high school, and it didn’t make it okay that she had done it silently instead of to her face. Now, as Kerry made fun of herself, Lara couldn’t help but wonder if it was a coping mechanism brought on by years of torment.

  “You’re really comfortable talking about all of this.” She didn’t want to prod, but if Kerry was willing to talk about it, then Lara was willing to listen. Truth be told, she was pretty curious. In high school, Kerry had been the weird kid with the Little House on the Prairie calico dresses who didn’t talk to people much and said a prayer before lunch in the cafeteria.