Page 18 of In Step

Abe barked out a laugh and together we stood and watched them rough and tumble for a couple of minutes before the coffee machine beeped to temperature and Abe followed me to the small kitchen and leaned on the butcher block to watch as I finished making our drinks.

“I’ve never seen cats play like that.” He snorted as Prue ran through my legs toward the bathroom, almost tripping me up, with Bossy in hot pursuit. Two seconds later Bossy reappeared with Prue on his tail.

“They’re still kitten enough,” I explained, carrying our hot drinks to the butcher block. “They’ll happily hoon for another fifteen minutes or so, and then that’ll be that. They’ll curl up in a chair together and sleep until the urge strikes again. Milk or sugar?”

“Just milk, thanks. Is it your birthday?”

I spun back from the fridge and...fuck. I’d forgotten my father’s card still sitting on the butcher block.

He must have caught something in my expression because he quickly raised his hands. “Sorry, that was rude. It was just right in front of me.”

I blinked and waved away his concern. “It’s fine. It was Thursday.” I pushed the milk and cookies his way. “Help yourself. Martha’s a great baker.”

He took two, then studied me with a frown. “Your thirtieth, huh? Did the others know?”

I shrugged. “It’s just a number, right? Come on, let’s take these out back. It’s too nice a day to miss.”

As we passed the laundry, Abe looked in and a wry grin stole over his face. “You have a rabbit?”

“Not mine,” I quickly explained. “I’m just looking after him until the vet tracks down the owners. He was on the run.”

Abe regarded me with soft eyes. “And you naturally offered sanctuary?”

I shrugged. “Seemed the right thing to do. I named him Widget.”

Abe studied me for a few seconds as if I was some puzzle he hadn’t figured out, and then just as quickly, the look was gone. “Well, FYI, your rabbit appears to be missing a leg, just saying.” His mouth curved up in a smile that would’ve made my toes curl if I didn’t have my straight mantra in place.

It totally did anyway.

I grinned. “Thanks for the heads-up. The vet thinks it was a dog. Widget’s lucky he’s still here at all.”

“He is indeed.” Abe lifted the roof of the small hutch and managed a couple of strokes before the nervous rabbit bobbed back into his den.

I sighed, unwilling to admit I was jealous of a freaking rabbit. “Come on.” I raised the lower half of a huge sash window and ducked through the opening onto the wooden platform of the fire escape. “Welcome to my own personal Narnia—window in lieu of a wardrobe, notwithstanding.”

Abe stepped out, curiosity and delight shining in his eyes as he soaked in the panoramic view. “Holy shit. Who’d have guessed?” His gaze swept the silken cobalt bay, and out to the distant islands and their hilltops dotted with tiny clouds flushed with pink in an otherwise bluebird sky. “And I thought the view from the back deck of the house was amazing. This is a whole other level.”

“It’s great, right?” I pushed one of the chairs his way with a warning. “Be careful. They’re not exactly robust.”

He sat gingerly at first and then relaxed as the chair took his weight.

I settled into the other, putting my feet up on the middle railing. “When they fitted out the bedsit, they put in this old sash left over from the homestead renovations. It was the best decision, although why the hell they didn’t build the lounge facing this way, I have no idea.”

“It’s beautiful.” Abe’s happy sigh made me smile and I stole a glance to find him smiling at the scene laid out before us. “I know I told you that me and small towns don’t really get along.” He slid down in his chair and crossed his legs in front. “But I have to say, there’s something almost magical about this.”

I liked that he got it, and for a few minutes we simply sipped on our coffees and drank in the view.

Laughter floated up from the long pier dotted with families busy bait fishing, while further along two men fought an outgoing tide to get their boat into the water before they ran out of concrete and hit sucking sand. And on the short, sandy beach next to Judah and Morgan’s boatshed, several children braved the wintery water with excited giggles, their parents standing ankle deep in the shallows with towels over their shoulders. Another group of children dug in the tight sand with long sticks, searching for pipis, while the tang of warm kelp exposed to the sun lent a sour bite to the salty air.

Abe chuckled in a kind of wonder. “It’s like some damn children’s book from the fifties.The Waltons Go to the Beach.”

I studied the groups of people and shrugged. “How much of that do you think is real? I mean, statistically, at least a couple of those families are likely to be train wrecks waiting to happen, and a day like today just gives everyone a chance to pretend life’s okay.”

Abe regarded me with a bemused look. “And I thought I was jaded. At least I have my advanced years as an excuse.”

I quirked a brow. “And just how old would that be? It’s only fair since you knowmyage.”

He cringed. “Forty-four.”

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