We met at a small sushi place downtown. Harley was already there when I arrived. Unsurprisingly, she was flirting with the server as I walked up to the table. From what I could see, he was enjoying the attention from my gorgeous red-headed friend.
Harley glanced over and saw me, a huge smile breaking out across her face. “Oh, there’s my girl. Trent, this is Kirsten. Kirsten, this is our server, Trent. He was just telling me about the specials and doing his best to get my number.”
As I sat, I grinned at the blush that rose in the server’s cheeks.
“Uh, so, what can I get you ladies to drink?” he asked.
Harley pointed at me. “She will have a glass of the sweetest red wine you have—chilled, like the barbarian she is—and I’ll take a beer. I’ll let you choose, big guy.”
The server scurried off, and I glanced over my shoulder before leveling my gaze on Harley. “He looks like he’s at best twenty-one.”
Harley shrugged. “He’s fun, it’s fine. Too shy for my taste, anyway. Now, what did you want to talk about?”
I gave her a quick rundown on the reading of the will. During my story, we received our drinks and put in a meal order. By the time I was done explaining, our food had arrived, the server still flustered by Harley and barely saying anything to us.
“You own a new house? That’s cool,” Harley said through a mouthful of salmon and rice.
“That’s the part I wanted your input on,” I said. “You’re a realtor. What’s the best use of this place?”
Harley sighed and took a sip of her beer. “What are the details? Square footage? Location? That sort of stuff.”
I sucked in my lower lip and chewed at it, picturing the cabin in my mind’s eye. “Well, it was big enough for me and Nana to stay there. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, but it’s probably over a thousand square feet.”
Harley tilted her head back and forth. “Not bad. Decent starter home or a rental property. Location?”
“It is pretty deep in the woods, has a secluded driveway. The biggest issue is the town. It’s a place called Crestwood. It’s a shifter town. Like, one-hundred-percent shifter.”
Harley winced. “Yeah, that makes it tough. Most humans won’t want to live in a shifter town. Your options are limited to selling to another shifter or making it a rental. The good news is the property taxes won’t be that high. Probably a small town, right?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “Like maybe two hundred people.”
Harley put her chopsticks down and gazed at me. “Why am I getting this weird hesitation from you right now?”
I sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “It sort of creeps me out. Going there to get it ready to sell or rent, I mean.”
Harley’s face softened. “Is it because it’ll remind you of your grandmother?”
“Sort of, but mostly it’s what I just talked about. The whole shifter thing.”
“You’re creeped out by shifters?” Harley hissed as she leaned forward.
My cheeks flamed, and I glanced around to make sure no one had heard.
“No, I’m not a bigot or anything. It just always freaked me out a bit, being the only human in town. Especially when I was a kid. I think Nana had the same sort of idea about how I felt because we rarely went into town when we were at the cabin. She had a little garden in the back and taught me how to forage for stuff in the forest. Edible mushrooms, plant shoots… did you know you can eat the inner portion of pine tree bark—”
“Chick, you’re changing the subject. Get back on track,” Harley said, returning to her food.
“Sorry.” I shrugged. “It’s probably not as bad as I remember. You know how it is when you’re a kid. Being different is always terrifying, and staying in a town where I was the only human just made me feel weird. That’s all. The shifters never bothered us.”
Nodding along as I spoke, Harley popped a sliver of pickled ginger into her mouth. “I get it. Shifter towns can be, well, strange. Lots of backward or old-fashioned rules and proprieties. There’s a reason most humans don’t move to shifter towns. Even if you don’t mind living with them, figuring out the whole hierarchy and pack dynamics can be exhausting.”
“I’ve only got one option, don’t I?” I asked sullenly, nudging a glob of rice with my chopstick.
“I don’t see how you have a choice. Sell or rent, someone has to go down there and clean that place out. You said the lawyer told you everything in the house is yours. I wouldn’t trust a hired maid service or something to go through your grandmother’s things.”
The thought of that sent a twinge of irritation through me. The mere idea of some stranger going through Nana’s things, possibly stealing some of them, made me angry.
“Right,” I mumbled.