I don't realize I've spoken out loud until Tank answers. "I think it's the strongest solution. Either way"-he taps the envelopes-"these hold the answer."
I trace the address again. Large, clumsy handwriting, almost childish, indicating an address in Moab, Utah. The postmark is from three years ago. All this time, and my dad was only six hours away?
It doesn't matter, I tell myself. All that matters is finding Sunny.
"Tank? What are we going to do, when this is all over?"
His face goes blank. "Let's just take this one day at a time."
I open my mouth to protest.
"Foxfire?" A familiar voice wafts across the street.
A long-haired woman in a peasant blouse and skirt walks through traffic, completely oblivious to the cars slowing to avoid hitting her. One honks, and I wince.
My mother doesn't notice. At least, I think it's my mother. She's dyed her hair blonde, with pink streaks, making her look younger. "It is you!" She gasps and rushes to me. "I thought I was seeing with my third eye."
"Sunny." I run to her.
"Darling!" About a hundred thin bracelets chime on her wrists as she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight, enveloping me with the scent of sage and lavender oil, and her own earthy smell. She still doesn't believe in wearing deodorant. Or shaving her pits. My super fox senses make that clear. Tank holds his hand near his nose, a stony look on his face. I grimace in sympathy and wipe my face clear of expression before Sunny lets me out of the hug.
"And who is this?" Sunny turns to Tank with a broad smile.
"This is Tank."
"Oh. what a lovely name. Are you two-?" she looks from me to him. I was expecting this.
"Yes," I say at the same time Tank says, "No."
Ouch.
"We're not in a traditional relationship," I explain. "We're just lovers." Beside me, Tank goes very still. I want to look at him, but don't dare risk it.
"Oh, how wonderful." Sunny claps her hand with a tinkling bracelet explosion. "Love should be free from the constructs of society."
I grab Tank's hand. "That's what we thought. I mean, why label it? We're just having sex."
"Oh, good." Sunny lays a hand on Tank's broad chest. "Yes, I see. Your chakras are out of balance, though."
I cough. "They should be balanced. We spent all morning working on alignment."
Sunny closes her eyes. "Your heart chakra is damaged. An early wound, maybe? Something caused you to shut your heart to love."
"He's fine." I bat her hand from his chest, and she steps back. I scoot closer to Tank, who looks stunned. Maybe I should've taken the time to warn him a bit more.
"Where have you been?" I ask Sunny. "We went to your trailer and were worried."
"Oh." She waves her hand. "That was just a bit of trouble. Some men came by and said I owed them money."
"Well, did you?"
"I may have borrowed a bit to fix the bus last year. A Mr. Biggs. He's a nice man, runs a few card games."
"Mom!" I pull her into an alleyway so our conversation is private. "You got involved with the mob!"
"Really, darling? Well, you know, modern currency is a figment of our imagination. Someone should really explain that to these lenders."
"Mrs. Hines-" Tank begins.
"Oh, Sunny, call me Sunny. I insist."
"Your daughter had a visit from a thug. We think it had to do with your trouble."
"Oh!" Her hand flutters to her chest. "Are you all right?"
"Fine, Sunny." I sigh. My mom is so clueless, sometimes. I must take after my dad. "Tank took care of him."
"Really?" Sunny brightens. "Is he swimming with the fishes?"
"Mom!"
"No," Tank says. "We did not kill him. We questioned him and let him go. Have you had more thugs bother you?"
"No, not since the first visit. "
"But your trailer was trashed."
"Yes, I think some kids did that. I've been meaning to go back and clean it up." She waves her hand to the chorus of bangles.
"You don't think it was the same thugs?"
"No, of course, not. I mean, I paid the loan back. Mr. Biggs said it would be all right."
"Then, why didn't you go back to the trailer?"
"Negative energy. I haven't had a chance to sage it and clear dark energies that came in, so I slept the last couple of nights in Daisy."
"So you borrowed money, got a reminder, paid it back, but then your trailer was trashed. Did you call the cops?" Tank asks.
"No need, darling. The men who came had very bad energy. Karma will take care of them."
"Men? There was more than one of them?"
"Yes, two," Sunny says. "And they seemed interested in you, Foxfire. That's why I called to warn you." She looks back and forth between us. "Is something wrong?"
"Let's go back to your home, Ms. Hines. We have a few things to discuss."
Foxfire
"Sorry," I say as we drive over, following the brightly painted VW bus my mom calls Daisy. "I should've warned you about her."
"Has she always been this way?"
"When I was sixteen, she met the guy who wanted to take me to prom, gave him a box of condoms and a candle shaped like the Minoan fertility goddess."
Tank winces. I shrug. "I was used to her by then. She's a big believer in free love."
"So, your father…"
"They were twin flames." I mimic Sunny's airy tones. "Souls destined to meet. They met at some sort of festival, I think."
"So he could be the shifter."
"Yeah," I say quietly. My mom's anonymous sperm donor, aka Dear Old Dad, gave me more than gray eyes and the tendency to burn in the sun.
Inside the trailer, Tank and I clean up while Sunny bustles about making green tea. Her bangles ring constantly until I ask her to remove them.
"Tank prefers silence," I explain.
"Does he meditate?"
"Yes," I lie.
Poor Tank hasn't said a word.
"Most days, he takes a vow of silence."