Chapter One
Tucson, Arizona – April 1989
In Catalina, a small town about twelve miles north of Tucson, eighteen-year-old Matthew Garrison paced the deck behind his best friend’s house, trying to regain his composure. But there was no control anymore. He needed to talk to Travis.
The sun was setting and a sprinkling of rust, violet and golden clouds gathered above the jagged peaks of the Catalina Mountains. A pale bruise-colored sky seeped through the saguaros’ giant arms.
Through the sliding glass door, he could see Travis’ mother standing in the middle of the kitchen, pivoting on her feet as if she were slow dancing. Crystal wore her waitress uniform, a short denim skirt, red leather cowboy boots, a low–cut white blouse with a red bandanna tied round her neck. A bottle of beer swung like a pendulum between her thumb and forefinger.
He rapped on the glass, averting his gaze from the deep crevice between her white breasts.
She cocked her head as she opened the sliding glass door. Her eye makeup looked smudged and two black mascara streaks ran down her face. “I thought your mother got married tonight.”
“She did,” he said. “In spite of her asshole son.” He wondered if Crystal was sad because she hadn’t been invited. Sad because she and Matt’s mother were no longer friends. “Is Travis around?”
“He’s dancing the night away at Jennifer’s spring formal.”
Matt cuffed his forehead with the heel of his right hand. “I can’t believe I forgot. Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Reynolds.”
He started to leave.
“You know I hate that Mrs. Reynolds crap.”
Her words stopped him and he turned around.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Call me Crystal. And by the way, you look downright gorgeous, like a movie star.” Her gaze wandered over his tuxedo, and then she lifted her hand, touched her fingers to the front of his shirt and looked full into his face. “Gorgeous and awful.”
“I need to get going.”
“Looks to me like you need someone to talk to.” She handed him her beer.
It felt sort of weird to be drinking out of the same bottle as Crystal, but that didn’t keep him from swilling what beer remained in one long swallow. When he stepped inside the kitchen, the air smelled like cigarette smoke.
She gently moved him aside so she could close the sliding glass door. “What’s wrong?”
He wiped his face with the back of his hand. He was both ashamed and really pissed off about the way he cried so easily. “Everything. I'm such a jerk,” he said, his voice ragged. “I can't believe what I did.” He paused, chased away the look of shock on his mother’s face at the wedding. “I ruined the whole thing.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Crystal said. “But do you want to talk about it?” She smiled at him then, a beautiful smile made with both her eyes and her mouth. It was a smile that came from her heart because she cared about him and he knew it. A smile reminding him that Crystal had always been an adult he could talk to.
