Page 79 of Years in the Making

While she watches the lake, her eyes wet with emotion, I get the coffee ready. When I’d snuck out to the truck to grab the supplies, Midge caught me and had me come into the house for a thermos full of her freshly brewed stuff.

“I like it strong, but I have a feeling you’ll both need it like this today,” she’d said while sealing the thermos up and shooing me out the door.

“You made coffee?” Nellie asks, wide-eyed but reaching out eagerly.

“Midge made coffee. But I did contribute something,” I say, reaching back into my pack and pulling out the box of maple creams.

“Oh yes.” I can’t help laughing at how her innocence transforms into greedy need.

“When did you become a cookies-for-breakfast person?” I ask, slipping one out for myself and watching as she dunks hers into the hot liquid for a few seconds before transferring it to her mouth. Her eyes close as the flavors hit her tongue and she looks completely blissed out. I suddenly want to make her face do that, no cookies or coffee involved, just Nellie and me.

She chews, swallows, and then shrugs. “My first job out of university, I had a coworker that made these incredible chocolate chip cookies. She’d bake them when she got up so they could cool while she got ready. I swear you could taste the dedication. I liked having one with my coffee in the afternoon, but did you know that caffeine can negatively impact your sleep?”

“Get out of town,” I joke.

“Well, it’s true. So I started having a cookie with my morning coffee, and then it just became a habit. I prefer a cookie with coffee, and since I don’t drink coffee past noon, morning cookies it is.”

“And when did you choose to have coffee with maple cookies?”

“That’s a pure nostalgia thing.” She smiles dreamily out at the lake. “My great-aunt and uncle had a cottage, and we’d go there in the summers. My aunt always bought those cookies. Since I was coming north, I figured I’d grab a pack. Kind of wishing I’d grabbed a few now.” She watches me bite into the dry cookie, and her eyes narrow. “At least eat it properly, EG.”

Dropping my hand, I stare back. “What?” she asks, her hand quickly brushing invisible crumbs from her mouth.

“You called me EG.”Do it again, I want to beg. Teddy on her lips is music; EG is a fucking siren song.

“I did,” she says slowly, as if she’s just realizing it herself. “Feels right.” She looks at me for another few seconds and thenturns back to gaze out at the water, the loons greeting her attention with their calls to the morning.

“George was telling me there’s a woman on the outskirts of town that’s got a”—I raise my fingers in quotes—“‘menagerie of manky mongrels,’ and he was going to see if she wanted a visitor.”

“That could be fun. Or hostile. May want to ask Marley for some advice.” Nellie’s eyes are still on the view in front of us, but she’s smiling as she takes another sip of coffee. “What the hell would be considered the outskirts of this place? It kind of all feels like the outskirts.” She’s not wrong.

“He then told me the name, and it’s the rescue Bennett wants me to go check out. So that’s convenient.”

Three mornings later, I’m hauling a shelf of books down the steps of the airstream while Nellie gets things organized for the day. Kevin has finally caught his tail and is currently rolling around with it in his mouth.

“Why does it feel like him doing that is the most productive any of us is going to be today?” Nellie asks, hands on hips, looking down at Kevin. The minute he sees her looking at him he drops his tail and bounds over. “Hey buddy,” she coos, bending to pick him up. “Are you ready for more socializing?” Laughter bubbles out of her as Kevin goes in enthusiastically for all the licks. “Okay, okay, that’s enough of that for today.” Nellie lowers him back to the ground and uses the arm of her shirt to wipe her face.

“Mornin’,” George calls from halfway across the lot. “Teddy, I got Betty on the phone, and she said she’s already spoken to you. Also asked if you had any heartwormtablets?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a decent supply. Any clue how many she needs?”

George shrugs, looking lost. “Didn’t ask, and she didn’t say,” he shouts as an ATV pulls up to the gas station. George waves to the person who gets off the machine. When they take off the helmet, I’m shocked to see someone far younger than I had expected. “That’s Neulla. She’ll be watching the place while we go.”

“Oh, you’re coming? And you want to go now?” I ask, looking over at Nellie.

“Just waiting for”—George turns to the trail from Midge’s, and I see someone coming towards us—“Florence. Betty has quite the greenhouse, and that one never misses an opportunity to visit.”

“Are you going to be okay?” I ask Nellie.

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Well, I don’t know, Teddy. It’s an absolute madhouse here. At least I’ll have Kevin to supervise.”

“You joke, but a little power is going to go straight to his head. He’s already a mini-Yogurt.”

“A GoGurt?”

“Isn’t that a travel yogurt?”

“Well, he is traveling,” she counters.

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