The Baseball Card Boyfriend (Starrycard Creek Bachelors #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

MAGGIE

“Excuse me, honey, you with the strawberry-blond hair and darling button nose who’s been crying and stuffing her face with pie since the bus pulled out of Rocky Mountain City. Could we have a word, please?”

At the sound of a stranger’s sassy request, Maggie froze.

Even in her shattered state, she knew she was likely the only bawling, pie-hoovering strawberry-blond on the bus. She swallowed her last bite of the delicately savory and perfectly sweet maple pumpkin pie and struggled to get her bearings.

And who could blame her?

It’s not every day a girl surprises her boyfriend with a freshly made pie only to find him moaning, “Just like that, baby,” as he passionately screwed another woman against the wall.

Yep, the wall.

She’d been with the guy five years—since she was nineteen—and they’d never done it against a wall. In fact, she couldn’t even recall the last time they’d slept together.

She tried to banish the sweaty wall-sex image from her mind and focused on the caramel-colored monstrosity resting on her lap. What was once a carefully crafted culinary masterpiece with hand-cut stars arranged in a starry-sky swirl now resembled the aftermath of a wrecking ball’s rampage. Crumbs splattered across her jean skirt and exposed thighs. Broken pastry stars were buried like victims of puree quicksand under a layer of maple-infused pumpkin pie filling. The obliterated celestial pattern left only hints of what once was—a lot like the state of her life.

She was a literal, pie-splattered, crust-covered human train wreck. She had no family, no boyfriend, no job, no money, no plan, and no path forward. All she could claim as her own was the pie plate and the contents of an envelope with a note detailing her grandfather’s peculiar final wish. The man wasn’t one to keep secrets, which made this all the more mysterious.

“We hate to bother you,” came another voice, gentler in tone than the last. “But I’ve got to give you props. You’re inhaling that dessert like a pie-eating all-star. However, your commendable exuberance has resulted in a rather large amount of pie in your hair.”

Maggie sniffled, then shook her head, freeing the crusty fragments from her locks. They joined the rest of the crust party on her lap. She sighed a whimper of a sound as the throaty grumble of the bus’s engine grew more labored, and the items on her lap shifted. She gripped the armrest and steadied the pie plate as the vehicle traversed a bumpy patch of Colorado highway. The brief jostling allowed her burdened brain a second to recalibrate.

Come on, girl! You’re making a scene. Reassure these people that you’re a normal person.

Unfortunately, nothing was normal about sobbing while gorging on a decadent fall-inspired dessert with a spork. Yeah, a spork.

“Pie makes everything better. At least, it’s supposed to,” she said and blinked away the last batch of tears. Raising her gaze from the pie catastrophe, she gasped, wide-eyed, taking in her traveling companions seated in the row across from her. “Oh, wow…you’re…”

“Absolutely fabulous from the top of our wig-covered heads to our mile-long fake lashes to the strappy stilettos covering our painted toes?” the sassy-voiced person suggested from the window seat.

Maggie admired the woman’s piled, platinum-blond wig decked with diamond-like beads. She wore a white sparkly top that reflected the beams of afternoon sunshine bathing the bus’s interior. This woman was glorious. Not a soul could deny that she positively glowed.

Unsure of how to answer the stunning diva, Maggie sat there like a stunned, pie-splattered bump on a log. Luckily, the woman in the aisle seat, wearing a sparkly red ensemble, gifted her with a kind grin and appeared to offer less sass than her diamond-encrusted companion.

“We’re drag queens. I’m sure the word’s stuck on the tip of your pie-devouring tongue,” the softer-spoken queen in red answered. Shimmering in the bold, fiery hue, she was the perfect contrast to her glittering, snowy-white companion.

“Right, drag queens,” Maggie repeated. “Drag queens on a bus. It’s just a normal day crossing the great state of Colorado with ladies dressed to the nines. Like I’m a normal girl who is totally not on the brink of a pie-filled panic attack. Because I’m okay. A-okay. All the okays.” Oh, heaven help her. What a word salad.

The drag queens narrowed their gazes and pursed their lips. They studied her as if they were assessing the degree of danger posed by a pie-consuming dumpster fire of a human being.

Say something, pie freak.

“You’re stunning drag queens. Positively radiant,” Maggie added, then glanced at the other occupied seats in the motor coach. “Holy moly, you’re all drag queens!” It wasn’t that she had anything against drag queens. She admired the drag community’s style and individuality. Still, how had she missed being surrounded by the brightly dressed and gloriously bejeweled women?

Wait, she knew the answer. After catching her boyfriend in the act of wall fornication, everything became a blur of tears and pie. She hadn’t even planned on getting on a bus—but here she was.

She pressed her hand to her heart. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to look so surprised or alarmed. I didn’t notice that?—”

“That you’re the only one on this bus whose mascara is running like it’s trying to escape your face before the next stop?” the snarky queen in white offered, but the warmth in her gaze lessened the impact of the stinging critique.

The woman in red clucked her tongue at her companion. “Pay no attention to Diamond Dentures. She’s very particular about eyes.”

“And teeth,” Diamond Dentures added, flashing her pearly whites. Then, in a move that could only be described as disconcerting at best and downright jaw-dropping at worst, the queen dislodged her chompers and waved the dentures in the air to the delight of the others.

Maggie’s jaw dropped. Thankfully, her teeth remained firmly in place.

“Enough, queens, we’re overwhelming our new friend,” the woman in red called, gesturing for the raucous group to quiet down. “Now, we’ve got a crisis to address. One of our bus mates needs our help. And you, Miss Cry-In-Her-Pie, need to get one thing straight.”

“Okay, what’s that?” Maggie eked out.

“It’s your lucky day. Once you’ve entered a drag queen’s orbit, you are family. Talk to us. Why the tears? Do you have something against pie?” she asked, gesturing to the mutilated pastry.

“No!” Maggie exclaimed. “I love pie. All pies. Fruit pies, cream pies, custard pies, savory pies, nut pies. I’m a certified pie freak.”

“I won’t debate you on the freak part, honey,” the woman in white murmured.

Maggie looked from the drag queens to the marred dessert and then back to the painted woman in red. “May I ask a question?”

“Ask away.”

“Am I awake? I don’t mean to be rude. But is this really happening, or did I hit my head and pass out?”

A whisper of a grin pulled at the corners of the woman’s scarlet lips. “This is real, All-Star.”

“As real as my false teeth,” the queen in white assured her—which wasn’t super reassuring.

“Let me make our introduction,” the woman in red continued. “We’re the Geriatric Gemstones—fabulous drag queens in our seventies and eighties. I’m Ruby Wrinkles and my seatmate is Diamond Dentures. We’ve got Sapphire Sags and Jade Jowls in the seats behind you. Across from them are Amber Angina and Tanzanite Tachycardia. The queens further back are Pearl Palpitations, Crystal Cataracts, Silver Stenosis, and Topaz Trifocals.”

Maggie nodded, acknowledging the queens, still unsure whether she was awake. “Those are quite the names.”

“Our drag queen names play off our age. We embrace where we are in life,” Ruby Wrinkles explained. “We travel in our grandest attire to bring laughter, individuality, acceptance, and encouragement wherever we go.”

“We get invited to events across the state, like fairs, drag queen story times, festivals, parades—even weddings,” Diamond Dentures added with a wave of her hand.

“That’s lovely,” Maggie answered softly.

“And you, Little Miss Cry-In-Her-Pie, need to hand over that sad excuse for an eating utensil. Where did you even get a spork?” Diamond pressed.

Maggie eyed the plastic cutlery. “I found it on the bench at the bus station.”

“ On a bench at a bus station! ” Diamond bellowed as exaggerated gagging echoed throughout the cabin.

“Slide over, Ruby, and sit beside the poor dove. We waited too long to intervene,” Diamond Dentures directed, nudging her seat companion.

Ruby waved off Diamond’s antics but complied. She crossed the aisle and settled her red sparkling form into the seat next to Maggie as Diamond shifted into Ruby’s seat.

“Before we begin this intervention, give me that sporking biohazard!” Diamond ordered.

Maggie eyed the cutlery and pouted. “But how will I eat?”

“Child, you have done enough damage to that poor pie. Hand over the spork. It’s surely teeming with bacteria.”

Maggie’s shoulders slumped forward, her eyes lowering before passing the plastic flatware to Ruby, who held it in Diamond’s direction.

“Hold your horses,” Diamond warned, then procured a glove and plastic baggie from her sparkling white bag. She slipped on the glove, then plucked the spork from Ruby’s fingers and dropped it into the baggie. “Good Lord, Little Miss Cry-In-Her-Pie, never use or touch random plastic bus depot cutlery. Do you want Coxsackievirus?”

“Cocks-a what?” Maggie repeated, then dragged her tongue across her teeth like the act could dislodge whatever the heck cocks-a-sack-a virus was.

“Just ignore Diamond. She was an epidemiologist for fifty-five years before joining the Gemstones.” Ruby folded her hands in her lap. “Now, we’ve taken care of the spork. It’s time to talk. What’s your story, All-Star? Why are you crying in that pie?”

Maggie’s eyes filled with fresh tears as the full impact of her new reality hit.

“Let me guess. A man?” Diamond offered.

Maggie wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “My boyfriend. No…I’m pretty sure he’s my ex-boyfriend now. I was supposed to move in with him today—well, tonight. I wanted to surprise him with a pie. And then I heard a noise. I went into the bedroom and caught him with another woman.”

“In the act?” Diamond pressed, wide-eyed.

“Naked and doing it against the wall.”

“What a no-good cheat!” the drag queen in white remarked angrily as the other glittery queens nodded and voiced their disgust.

Maggie’s shoulders slumped forward. “He’s one of those, but…”

“But what?” Ruby pressed.

Maggie shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. He hasn’t always been a…consistent boyfriend.”

“Consistent? Elaborate,” Diamond demanded.

“It was hard to know how he felt about me. From time to time, he’d say we needed a break, but he’d always come back. He’d say he missed me and loved me. But it felt calculated. It was like he’d swoop in as soon as I was happy and ready to move on. I could be wrong. Maybe I haven’t made enough of an effort. I’ve been preoccupied the last couple of years taking care of my grandparents. I didn’t think anything of spending so much time apart. This pie was for him—for us to share to start again. I used to do pie for breakfast or dinner—or even lunch—with my grandparents. We’d stand around the little island in the kitchen and talk and laugh. We laughed so much.” She paused, blinking back tears. “This is the last pie I baked at my grandparents’ house—the house I grew up in. The house where they raised me,” she added, her voice cracking.

Ruby leaned toward her. “Why was it the last pie you baked there?”

Maggie struggled to keep her tears at bay.

“You can tell us. Think of us like grandma glamazons. Unburden yourself,” Diamond Dentures offered gently.

Ruby touched Maggie’s tear-stained cheek. “Remember, the Gemstones are your family now.”

Maggie exhaled a slow breath, her mind racing as she tried to fend off the familiar pangs of anxiety. “I had to sell my car. When that still wasn’t enough, I sold the house to a company that acquires homes and everything in them, from the furniture to all the personal items. It was my last resort to get enough money to settle my grandfather’s medical bills.”

“You lost everything because of medical debt?” Diamond asked, her powdered cheeks burning crimson.

“Almost everything.” Maggie touched the edge of the pastel-pink ceramic pie plate on her lap. With a ribbony scalloped edge, it featured an intricate star pattern around the rim.

And just like that, her worries faded away, and tender memories of baking with her grandmother in their tidy little kitchen surfaced.

The stagnate bus air was replaced with the scent of cinnamon. The old oven’s warmth enveloped the space. A vintage circular clock with faded black numbers hung on the wall. It ticked away happily with its rhythm hitching at eleven past the hour, the moment stretching as if it held some secret meaning, while her grandma’s soothing voice and the low hum of the old radio drifted through the air. She pictured her grandfather in his spot at the cozy kitchen table. Barely able to contain a smile, he’d radiate sheer adoration as he sipped his coffee and watched his wife.

Maggie exhaled an even breath.

For the first time in a long time, a calming peace settled over her. Surrounded by the echoes of her childhood, her grandparents’ quiet affection was the purest form of love she’d ever witnessed.

She tapped one of the pink ceramic stars on the baking dish. “This pie plate is all I kept.”

“Oh, honey! How unfortunate!” Diamond Dentures lamented, pulling Maggie from her thoughts.

“The pie plate is unique. I’d love to know the ceramist who’d made it,” Jade Jowls remarked as she peered over the seat, her green and gold necklace glinting in the light.

“That pastry dish is very important to you,” Ruby observed.

Maggie traced another blushing pink star. “It is. I kept it for sentimental reasons. The estate sellers said I could take a few personal items.”

“I believe it’s quite old. Was it passed down from previous generations?” Jade Jowls continued, eyeing the pie.

Maggie chuckled, her first laugh in weeks. She held up the plate so Jade could get a better look. “I don’t know. It came from a flea market. It cost my grandfather eleven dollars.”

“Are those the letters E and B on the side?” Jade asked, narrowing her gaze as she continued her study of the ceramic dish.

“Yes, we figured it stood for the person who made it, or perhaps a previous owner scratched in their initials. We weren’t sure. This was always my favorite pie plate. When I was little, and even now, I found comfort in closing my eyes and brushing my fingertips across the stars.”

“What’s its story?” Ruby asked, genuine interest woven into the question.

Maggie returned the plate to her lap. “My grandmother was a self-trained baker. Pies were her specialty. She loved experimenting with different flavors and pie crust designs. She taught me everything I know about baking. I memorized all her pie recipes.”

Ruby nodded. “How many did she have?”

“Hundreds—maybe more. She had several different pumpkin pie recipes: classic pumpkin, maple pumpkin, pumpkin cheesecake, streusel-topped, chocolate swirl, pumpkin pecan, coconut pumpkin, and gingerbread pumpkin, to name a few. I’ve been experimenting with a spiced rum pumpkin pie recipe. It’s good, but not the flavor profile I was hoping for.”

“My, my, our little miss knows pie,” Diamond cooed.

“I think there’s more to that plate,” Ruby added gently.

Maggie smiled as a wave of nostalgia washed over her. “This pie plate meant a lot to my grandparents. My grandfather loved to watch my grandmother bake. It was this sweet little game they played. She was a soft-spoken woman. She’d catch him looking at her, and then she’d blush. My grandpa would say the blush on her cheeks matched this pie plate.”

“Isn’t that darling!” Diamond exclaimed.

“Before they married, my grandmother was a waitress at a diner, and sometimes they’d let her bake—that’s where my grandparents met. She served him a slice of her pie. He ordered another slice and then a third. He said he wanted to marry whoever baked that pie. She blushed and shared that she’d made it. The next day, he passed by a flea market. The pie plate caught his eye, and he knew he had to get it for her—knew she was the one. When he proposed two weeks later, he handed her this pie plate with an engagement ring in the center. My grandma would tease him and say he married her for the desserts, but I knew better. They were soulmates. It brings me comfort to know that they’re together now.”

“When did you lose them?” Diamond asked.

“My grandmother passed away two years ago—complications arose a few years after she had surgery.”

Diamond’s eyes softened with sympathy. “And your grandfather?”

Maggie’s vision grew blurry as she pulled at a string hanging from her denim skirt. “He passed a month and a half ago.”

Ruby pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and offered it. “You took care of them, didn’t you?”

Maggie accepted the folded square and patted her cheeks. “I moved back in after my grandmother’s health began to decline. My grandparents tried to dissuade me, but they couldn’t. I never knew my parents. They passed when I was a baby. My grandparents were everything to me. Family matters to me. I didn’t see caring for them as a burden. I liked it. I like taking care of people. And my grandparents were good people. My grandmother and I used to bake for everyone in the neighborhood. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as seeing a person’s reaction when you show up with a pie.” She sighed as the memories faded. That’s all they were. That life was over. “But now I’m alone,” she whispered, staring at the sad pie remnants on her lap.

“Did you grow up in Rocky Mountain City?” Ruby asked, shifting the conversation.

Maggie exhaled a slow breath. “Born and raised. My grandfather worked for Rocky Mountain University. He didn’t go to college, but he was a big RMU Mountain Lions sports fan. He was part of the grounds crew that maintained the athletic training facilities. He mostly worked on the football and soccer practice fields.”

“I also worked at Rocky Mountain University for a time. In the athletics department, too,” Ruby replied.

Maggie brightened. “On the fields?”

“Something like that.”

She mustered the ghost of a grin. “Small world.”

“Indeed, it is, Maggie .”

Maggie?

She held Ruby’s gaze. “How do you know my name? I haven’t shared it. Do we know each other?”

“Did Ruby not mention we’re geriatric psychic drag queens?” Diamond said with a wave of her bejeweled hand.

Maybe this was a dream.

“That’s a joke, right? You don’t see the future, do you?” Maggie asked meekly.

Ruby touched her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s embroidered on your little pink apron, All-Star. We saw it when you got on the bus.”

Her apron?

Maggie looked down and took in the faded fabric. Her grandmother had made the apron and embroidered her name across the top in forest green. It was a gift for her eleventh birthday. Sure, it barely fit, but wearing it this morning had made her feel a little more grounded.

She touched the letter M . “I forgot I was wearing this. I was pressed for time this morning. I had to be out of the house early. I didn’t realize I still had it on. And then, after I walked in on the…”

“Wall sex,” Diamond supplied.

“Yeah, since the wall sex, I’ve been in a fog,” Maggie said, deflating in her seat.

“Chin up!” Ruby ordered. “That’s the past. What are your plans for the future?”

Maggie chewed her lip as the warmth from recalling her grandparents’ devotion drained from her body. “Plans? My boyfriend—I mean, my ex-boyfriend—is a doctor. He wants to make a name for himself in his field out of state. I told him I would join him wherever he found an opportunity. But that’s no longer in the cards for me.”

“Those aren’t your plans. They’re his plans. His path. What do you want?” Ruby pressed.

“Me?” Maggie whispered.

“Yes, you,” Diamond chimed.

Maggie froze as an emptiness settled in her chest. “I haven’t thought about what I wanted in a long time. I don’t regret taking time off to care for my grandparents. But it hasn’t left much time for me to think of myself. I was supposed to foster a dog. My ex-boyfriend went to pick him up, but by the time he got there, the dog had just been adopted.”

“What were eleven-year-old Maggie’s passions? What did she want to do when she grew up?” Ruby asked, employing an even, reassuring tone.

Maggie eyed the drag queen. “What were you before you were a Geriatric Gemstone, Ruby? A therapist?”

“When the job called for it, yes, but we’re talking about you.”

Maggie touched the pie plate. “Eleven-year-old Maggie loved to bake and wanted to open her own shop, but…”

Ruby raised a dark painted eyebrow. “But what?”

Maggie’s chest tightened. Doubt flooded her mind in a looping soundtrack listing all the reasons why she’d fail. This happened when she dared to dream. She shook her head. “I can’t run a business. I don’t have a fancy degree. Last I checked, I had one hundred and eleven dollars. I’m not on any path. If anything, I’ve been running in circles for years.”

“You’re on this bus,” Ruby said as if she were choosing her words carefully. “That’s a path of sorts and the beginning of a plan. Are you taking it all the way to the end of the line to Dennison, Colorado? It’s just south of Durango.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” Diamond shared.

Maggie glanced out the window. “No, I’m getting off at the next stop.”

“At Starrycard Creek?” Ruby asked, a crease forming on her brow.

“Yes.”

“Do you know someone there?”

Maggie flicked her gaze to the pie. How was she supposed to answer? “Yes…no…I mean, everyone knows him. I need to meet with a professional baseball player—well, a former professional baseball player named Christian Starrycard.”

“Is that so?” Ruby replied, a thread of surprise in her voice.

“Miss Maggie, you blushed when you said the ballplayer’s name,” Diamond purred.

“Did I?” Maggie touched her cheek—her heated cheek.

“Poor Christian Starrycard. His last Major League ball game was a real heartbreaker,” Jade Jowls said, shaking her head.

“And to think the man will never play again,” Diamond added. “And Ruby, you?—”

“Are a Rocky Mountain City Rattlers fan as well. Like all of us,” the woman in red replied with a curious edge to her voice.

The queens grew quiet—even the sassy chatterbox Diamond Dentures held her tongue. Maggie glanced around the bus and took in their solemn expressions. Still, it wasn’t a surprising reaction. Christian Starrycard’s downfall was a tragedy. Footage of the man’s career-ending injury had looped on TV for weeks, and his subsequent public outbursts had made the news. Social media had recorded his drunken antics, which provided fresh fodder for the tittering online masses. But the gossip and speculation seemed to have died down over the last several weeks.

“Maggie,” Ruby continued, “what’s got you headed to see Christian Starrycard?”

“This.” Maggie pulled a worn envelope from the pocket of her jean skirt and removed the contents.

“Well, look at that,” Ruby remarked, a wisp of wonder infused into her words.

“What is it?” Diamond pressed, leaning into the aisle.

“A card and a small rock with a number scratched on it,” Maggie answered, eyeing the deep midnight blue stone with subtle veins of soft pink running through it. The blushing streaks added warmth to the smooth pebble’s appearance. Two faint lines that appeared manmade were carved down the center. An eleven. She moved her hand into the light and noticed something she hadn’t observed earlier. The sunshine revealed tiny, shimmering silver inclusions that resemble stars scattered across a twilight sky.

“Who’s on the baseball card?” Diamond asked.

Ruby touched the corner. “It’s Christian Starrycard. It’s his card from when he played in college. How did you get these things, Maggie?”

“My grandfather had them. He was quite upset after the game where Christian Starrycard was injured.” Pressure built in her chest as she recalled the resounding crack. Christian had hit the ball hard. It sailed over the stands. A home run. But he didn’t run. He’d dropped the bat, gripped his left shoulder, then fell to his knees like a lightning bolt had struck him. She studied the baseball card, focusing on the man’s charismatic and confident boyish half-grin.

“Maggie,” Ruby said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Did your grandfather tell you anything about these items—how he came to possess them?”

“No, not really. After the game, he asked me to get a box from the attic. I’m pretty sure these items were inside.”

“You don’t know?” Diamond asked.

“He took the box into the study where my grandmother had kept this special handmade paper and envelopes and closed the door. He called me in. I could see that the box was empty when he handed me the envelope and made me promise to open it after he was gone. He passed in his sleep a month later.”

“What’s in the letter?” Jade Jowls asked.

“It was sweet—like my grandfather. He said he wanted me to trust my gut and follow my heart. He wrote that my goodness would lead me to where I belonged. He asked me to return the contents of this envelope to Christian Starrycard and to do it in person—and alone. But I couldn’t bring myself to open the envelope until…”

“Until today,” Ruby answered.

Maggie touched the corner of the letter. “I’d always kept it with me. I sort of figured one of the objects was a stone, but I wasn’t ready to find out what was inside because it would be the last thing I’d do for him.” She drew in a shaky breath. “But after seeing my boyfriend with another woman, I started walking and somehow ended up at the bus station. I opened the envelope, read his last words, and…”

“And here you are,” Ruby finished.

Maggie glanced down at herself. “Here I am, broke, wearing a child-sized apron with a massacred pie in my lap and crust remnants in my hair.”

“You’re here on this bus. Isn’t that a plan?” Ruby asked.

“Maybe,” Maggie whispered, but something happened inside her—something good. Ruby’s words had stirred a flicker of hope, hinting that the universe might still have a plan for her—a path for her.

“You poor little dove,” Diamond cooed. “You’ve lost your grandmother and your grandfather and caught the man you thought you’d be spending your life with banging another woman.”

Maggie slumped in the seat. “And our dog passed away a few days after my grandfather.”

“And you lost your dog?” Diamond wept, tears streaming down her cheek.

“I never really thought about it all at once, but yes, that’s been my life.”

“Perhaps we should let her eat the entire pie, spork bacteria be damned,” Diamond offered, sniffling and sobbing as she dug through her bag.

“Experiencing the loss of loved ones, betrayal, and the death of a pet in such a short period are profoundly traumatic events, Maggie,” Sapphire Sags said as Jade Jowls and Ruby nodded. “It’s important to acknowledge the immense weight of these losses and the impact on your psyche.”

“My psyche?” Maggie repeated.

“Sapphire is a retired neuropsychologist,” Ruby explained.

“Have you spoken with anyone—a behavioral health professional or a close friend?” the drag queen continued.

Maggie shrugged. “Not really. My boyfriend was always busy with work, and I lost touch with most of my friends after I moved back in with my grandparents. And my psyche’s been preoccupied settling medical debts.”

“My God, Maggie, if anyone needs a little luck, it’s you,” Diamond lamented, holding the baggie with the spork. “You deserve the world—the freshest of fresh starts. Not a bout of Coxsackievirus.” She scowled at the utensil, then dropped it back in her bag. “I changed my mind. No matter how dire and depressing your life is, I can’t let you use that spork. Explosive diarrhea is no way to begin again.”

“And it might be headed her way,” Ruby said with a curious lilt to her voice.

“Explosive diarrhea is headed my way?” Maggie asked and rested her hand on her stomach. Was that her belly churning? Was she experiencing the beginning symptoms of Coxa-a-whatever?

“No, not explosive diarrhea. I’m talking about luck. It might be headed your way.” Ruby gestured to a digital clock above the bus driver. “Look at the time. It’s one ten in the afternoon—a minute until one eleven. Didn’t you say you have one hundred and eleven dollars?”

“I did, but I’m not sure how it being one ten and me having barely enough cash to pay for one night in a crappy motel is lucky.”

“You and your superstitions, Ruby Wrinkles,” Diamond remarked, clucking her tongue.

“What’s superstitious about one eleven?” Maggie asked, eyeing the red digits that still blinked 1:10.

“It’s what some call an angel number. If you encounter a series of ones, it means you’re on the right path.”

“But I don’t know what path I’m on. We’ve established that,” Maggie said, leaving the letter on her lap as she slipped the baseball card and stone into her pocket.

“I have a feeling your next life choice might have been written in those stars on your mauled pie,” Ruby mused.

Maggie frowned. “What’s the choice?”

“The choice to be brave and blaze a new path.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ruby leaned in. “Forget the old Maggie.”

“How?” she pressed, shaking her head. “A person can’t simply transform, especially me.”

“Why couldn’t you change?”

“I’ve always been plain old Maggie. I think I always will be.”

Ruby’s expression sharpened. “You’re surrounded by men in their seventies and eighties dressed in full drag. Do you think, for a second, we knew this was our path? We took a chance and embraced what was right for us.”

“But you are much braver than me.” Her chest tightened. “And I get…anxious. My nerves take over. I babble on and on like a lunatic.” Simply conveying that information kicked up her pulse. But she couldn’t have a panic attack—not here. She inhaled slowly and recalled her grandfather’s gentle voice.

“Maggie,” Ruby said, looking her over, “have you considered that your grandfather might have wanted you to embark on this journey to create a new path and transform your mindset? Today can always be your first day.”

“First day of what?” she asked when movement on the horizon caught her eye.

“Your first day living, learning, and chasing?—”

“A dog!” Maggie cried, interrupting Ruby. She peered out the bus’s windshield as the digital clock flipped to 1:11.

Ruby frowned. “I was about to say dreams . But, sure, you can chase a dog.”

“No, not chase a dog. A black dog is on the tracks.” She focused on the bus driver. “Sir, driver!” she called, determination edging out her anxiety. “Aren’t you going to stop? Can’t you see that there’s a dog in trouble? It’s stuck on the train tracks. See, it’s pulling but can’t get off.”

Toot! Toot! Toot! Toot!

Toot! Toot! Toot! Toot!

“And there’s a train coming!” she exclaimed, handing the pie to Ruby as she climbed over the drag queen and into the aisle.

“Oh, poor pup!” Diamond exclaimed.

“Stop the bus!” Maggie cried, holding on to the top of the seats as she charged down the aisle.

The driver caught her eye in the mirror. “We’re on a schedule, lady. I can’t stop for some dog. And you need to sit down.”

“What are you doing, Maggie?” Ruby called.

“I have to help that dog.” She eyed the train and the defenseless animal, then hurried down the steps toward the folding door. “Open it!” she demanded, pegging the driver with her piercing gaze.

“We’re moving, lady! I can’t open it!”

“Stop the bus, or I’ll pry open the door and jump out,” she threatened, pressing her hands against the glass. It wasn’t like her to be rude or cause a fuss, but an animal’s life was at stake. The train was barreling down the tracks, kicking up plumes of dust through the mountain valley. Its whistle echoed off the steep cliffs, getting louder by the second.

And she was running out of time.

She wedged her fingertips into the tight space and prepared to force the glass doors open.

“All right, all right,” the driver said and hit the brakes. The bus came to a jarring halt. He pushed a button, and the doors hissed open, allowing gusty mountain air to sweep inside.

“Maggie, what about your things? Your letter, your pie plate, and your purse and bag?” Diamond called.

Maggie looked beyond a sprawling ranch and grand house close to the tracks where the dog was stuck before shifting her focus back to Diamond.

There was no time to worry about material things.

“I have to go. I have to help that dog,” she answered and bounded off the bus.

“I can’t wait,” the driver called as the train horn wailed.

“Neither can I,” she replied, casting one last look at the wide-eyed, slack-jawed drag queens with their noses pressed to the windows.

The bus doors hissed closed, and the brakes released with a sharp puff of sound. Bits of rock and earth pricked her legs as the vehicle pulled away.

She scanned the terrain, then zeroed in on a faint dirt trail snaking through the brush toward the tracks. “There’s my path,” she whispered, heart pounding, and without a second thought, she took off running.