Free Finding Harmony by Jomarie Degioia

here at Cypress Corners,” he heard the
guide say.
    Rick turned to watch the animated guide. The guy was about
twenty-five, one of those fresh-faced people who were excited to be wherever
they were. He extolled the place’s many virtues to a group of about eight
people who would never guess the pleasures Rick was thinking about right now. Steamy
nights spent surrounded by nature, urging you to give in to your baser desires.
He laughed to himself. Somehow he didn’t think Tammy ought to put that in the
brochure.
    Well, he’d killed enough time. Might as well go back to his
comfortable rented house and watch that big screen. Then in a couple of hours
he could hit the five-star restaurant for another lonely dinner. At least he
wouldn’t have to eat alligator.
    He nodded farewell to the girls working the information
desk and stepped outside. That’s when he saw Harmony across the street and looking
happier than he’d ever seen. She wasn’t looking in his direction, obviously. He
heard her laugh, light and throaty, as she threw her arms around a woman with
long curly brown hair streaked with gray. The woman wore clunky shoes and a
gauzy purple skirt that had sparkly things on it. He could hear the bells on
her wrists and ankles from where he stood. She had to be Harmony’s mother. The
balding beanpole who picked Harmony up and twirled her around could only be her
father. What an odd pair to produce such a daughter. Well, he was nothing like
Bill Chapman, right? At least he hoped not.
    A wildly-painted RV sat parked near the curb, smaller than
he’d envisioned. Harmony had shared that with her parents? No wonder her
tent-cabin was sparsely furnished. The girl was probably used to doing with the
bare minimum. He felt a pang of guilt as he recalled the stuff that had crammed
his room growing up. Not from his mother, no. From Bill, in lieu of his time.
    He took a breath and started across the street. Maybe he’d
avoided her since that night on the dock. But his mother raised him to show the
manners God gave him. What harm was there in a simple “hello?”
    ***
    Harmony hugged her parents, happy as always to see them. She
wouldn’t focus on the RV, showing spots of rust beneath the gaily-colored paint
job her father refreshed every couple of years. This year it sported a mural,
towering cypress trees dripping with Spanish moss surrounding what could be her
lake. She smothered the thought of what happened near the lake, the shame she
still felt for trying to ignore what she’d done. She’d led Rick on, let him
think she was ready. Heck, she’d practically taken the man’s clothes off! If he
never spoke to her again she wouldn’t be surprised. But maybe she’d be a little
relieved.
    “How are you, dear?” her mother asked. She adjusted the
round glasses perched on her nose. “We haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
    She knew to interpret the question at face value. Her
mother didn’t use false guilt like the girls at college had complained about. No,
there were no games in the Brooks family.
    “I’ve been busy, Mom,” she said. “There’s a species of
endangered plant on the property and I have to find more evidence of it.”
    Max Brooks grinned. “That’s my girl. Give ‘em hell.”
    Harmony hid her smile. Max was a radical looking for
something to protest—though he’d missed being a conscientious objector to the
Vietnam War by a couple of decades. She hugged him again, tugging on the short black
ponytail at the nape of his neck.
    “The developers work with us, Dad,” she said.
    Her father shrugged. “Then why do you seem so edgy?”
    “Edgy?” She pulled back, fiddling with the hem of her
shorts. “I’ve just been busy.”
    Her mother snorted. She grabbed Harmony’s wrist and brought
it to her nose. “Lavender.” She released her. “No, you’re not edgy.”
    Harmony waved her hand. “I’ve been having trouble
sleeping.”
    Her mother’s eyes, a blue-green that sometimes seemed out
of