Milk Glass Moon

Chapter One The Wise County Fair is my daughter's favorite event of the year, and I think it's safe to say that includes Christmas. Etta has been on her best behavior for the past two weeks, so perfect down to the smallest detail (including unassigned chores like making my bed and weeding my garden) that I'm worried. We have the window flaps of the Jeep down, and the warm August air whipping through is sweet with honeysuckle. Still, it is no match for Iva Lou's perfume, which wafts up to the front seat whenever we peel around a curve. Etta looks out the window for road signs, searching for proof that we're almost there. I've taken the quicker route, the valley road out of Big Stone Gap up to Norton. As we ascend the mountains in twilight, we pass Coeburn nestled in the valley below, where the cluster of lights twinkles like a scoop of emeralds. Etta smoothes her braids and settles back in her seat. "Here's the plan. First we eat," Iva Lou announces as she unfolds the special to the newspaper. "I myself am having a jumbo caramel apple with nuts, and if I have to go see Doc Guest for a bridge on Monday, then so be it. Them caramel apples are worth a molar." "I want the blue cotton candy," Etta decides. "I want a chili dog with onions," I reply. "I have a lot of money," Etta says proudly as she sifts through her change purse. "Ask Dad to spring for dinner. That will leave you more money for the games of chance." Etta smiles and carefully counts her money without lifting it out of the purse. I see a five-dollar bill folded neatly into a small square (some lucky clay-pigeon operator is about to score a windfall). "What if we can't find him?" she asks. "We'll find him." "Just go straight to the outdoor the-a-ter. He's up there with all them men checking out the rehearsal for Miss Lonesome Pine." "He built the stage," I remind Iva Lou in a tone that says, Don't start with that again. "That's as good a reason as any, then." Iva Lou meets my eye in the rearview mirror and winks. We find a parking spot under a tree overlooking the fairgrounds and climb out of the Jeep. Iva Lou checks her hair in the driver's side mirror and then smiles at us, ready to go. She's wearing a pair of dark blue denim pedal pushers and a red bandanna-print blouse tied at the waist. Her Diamonelle hoop earrings peek out from under her platinum bob like giant waterwheels. Iva Lou is ageless; you would never know she is fifty-something. Her look, however, is best viewed from a distance, like a fine painting. You don't want to get so close that you get lost in the details. Etta looks at the fairgrounds with a clinical eye, surveying the faded striped tents surrounded by torches like birthday candles. She smiles when she spots the Ferris wheel. "Ma, will you go on the rides with me?" "Sure." But Etta knows that at the last second in line, when we're ready to go up the metal plank, I'll send her father with her instead. "Do we have to go to the beauty pageant?" she asks. "I thought you liked it." "I like the dresses all right. The talent's always terrible." Etta shrugs. She's right. Last year, leggy blond Ellen Tierney, representing Big Stone Gap, did a dance routine to "Happy to Keep Your Dinner Warm"; her tap shoe flew off when she did a high kick, clocked a man in the first row, and knocked him out. The viTrigiani, Adriana is the author of 'Milk Glass Moon' with ISBN 9780375506185 and ISBN 0375506187.