Miranda's Revenge (18 page)

Miranda could barely breathe with the beauty of it. Awed, her breath a faraway and forgotten thing, she moved into the meadow.

Thousands and thousands of butterflies stirred as they came into the meadow, their wings flashing in the sunlight, swirling around them in soft washes, touching their faces and hands and legs. Miranda laughed. “Butterfly kisses!” she cried, and held out her arms, letting them land all over her, tipping her face back to let them sweep their wings over her face, her throat.

She had been to dozens of shrines, here and in Europe, and never had she felt one so right. It had a holy feeling to it, and to honor that, she said, “Thank you. I'm ready now for whatever you have for me.”

The three sisters then lit candles. Juliet went first, and the other two left her to offer her petitions, thanks, prayers by herself. She was there a long while. She returned, beaming, tossing her lion mane of hair away from her face.

Next went Desi, strong and hearty and loyal as a wolf. Her prayers were simple and straightforward, and she returned in only a moment. “If these things are to be trusted, I'm going to have a boy.”

“Hooray!” Juliet said.

Miranda went last. She didn't know what to ask for as she knelt in the grass, smelling minerals and freshness from the water, the butterflies dancing around her head. “I've wandered the world,” she said to the kindly beneficent face. “I haven't wanted to believe in anything. Now, I think I might have found my man, but I'm too afraid of pain and rejection to love him. I don't know where to live, what to do for my art, how to proceed—but here I am, earnestly listening.”

She bowed her head and waited for a picture, or a nudging, or an idea to come to her. None did.

She said the things they'd agreed to say about their family, adding her petition to theirs, then stood and turned around.

And there, looking slightly flummoxed, was James. Her sisters were at the edge of the meadow, waiting. “Do you want us to wait?”

She frowned a little, wondering if they'd done this on purpose. But she waved them on. They turned and headed out of the meadow, back to Mariposa.

“Hello,” Miranda said. “What brings you here?”

“Um. I saw you head this way.” He swallowed. “Why are you here?”

He looked like a saint or a priest, his dark hair so shiny and thick, his face earnest and real. Butterflies danced around him in the shape of a halo, and Miranda thought that was a bit over the top, but okay. “To pray for my family.”

“Only your family?”

“No. For me, too.” She smiled. “For direction.”

“You should see yourself,” he said. “Butterflies are almost touching you all over, so you have, like, a halo.”

In the air was musical laughter, and Miranda looked around herself to see it was true. She had a halo, too. “What happens, do you think, if we kiss here?”

He moved forward, and the butterflies came with him, and came with her. They met, hands outstretched, and when they joined hands, a bright electric shock when their palms touched. “Ow!” she said, but he didn't let go.

He tucked her close, bent his head and kissed her. His body was wiry and hard next to her softness, his lips full as a song, his heart pounding so loud she could hear it, in time with her own. “I love you,” he said. “I know it's fast, but I don't care. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“It was love at first sight for me, James. Just like that. I saw you and I knew you were my man. My soul mate.”

“I thought you didn't believe in soul mates.”

“I didn't until I met mine.” She smiled up at him. “Oh, I am so sorry for being a fool.”

“I've been too prideful. I'm sorry, too.”

She tipped her head back and looked for the butterflies, and they were very quiet, settling now back to the grass and swirling in a Disneyesque circle over the pool.

“Okay,” she said, “cut it out. That's embarrassing.”

The butterflies swirled upward, and for one moment, it almost seemed they formed the shape of a woman, but it was so brief, who could tell?

James bent down to kiss her, and she felt as if light burst from their joining, radiating out into the world as if to transform everything.

Love, Miranda thought, could do that.

Mariposa Times
May 25, 20—
The Life And Times Of Mariposans
by Rowena Reed, gossip columnist

I
n one of the more colorful weddings of the year, Joshua Mad Calf, a police officer for the Mariposa Ute Tribal Council, married Juliet Rousseau at Our Lady of Butterflies church at 10:00 a.m. Saturday morning. The bride wore a fitted gown of blush silk, with a sweetheart neckline that highlighted the bride's grandmother's pearls. Her veil was antique silk, and she carried a bouquet of blush, red and peach rosebuds dramatically highlighted with knots of baby-blue carnations.

The bride's attendants were the groom's daughter, Glory Mad Calf, dressed in a princess-cut gown of soft pink lace, her hair woven with rosebuds; Dr. Desdemona Rousseau, known to locals as Dr. Desi, the vet, who wore a splendid pink and green silk sari and carried a bouquet of pink roses and green hydrangea (The draping helped disguise the doctor's broken arm!), and youngest Rousseau sister Miranda, known for her adorable little altars (the latest of which, Mariposa Running Guy, Miranda assures us will be available soon) wore a vintage Gunnysack (which this reporter remembers wearing to prom).

The bride's parents, poet Paul Rousseau and biologist Carol Rousseau, were in prideful evidence, their faces beaming as they tossed popcorn at the bride and groom on their way out.

The groom's family, which includes most of the Mad Calfs, the Running Moon's and the Salazars, filled the church to overflowing. The groom's mother, Helene Mad Calf, a local nurse, was resplendent in traditional buckskins.

The reception was held at the Mariposa Hotel, where celebrities of note including skiers Max Boudrain and Christie Lundgren, along with the wan but lovely Elsa Franz, were in attendance.

And are there more weddings in the air? The sisters were seen dancing the night away with their own love-birds, Desi's Tamati Neville, the dashing foreigner who has brought us the delightful Black Crown; and Miranda with the elusive private detective James Marquez, who was rumored to have slipped a juicy half carat diamond on Miranda's finger.

Warm congratulations to Josh and Juliet Mad Calf and all their kin!