Page 3 of The Summer I Stayed
“Oh!” she exclaims, clutching at my flannel shirt. “I didn’t...mean to...”
“Watch your step,” I grunt, setting her upright. Her green eyes lock on mine, big and startled. “He’s friendly,” I add.
She brushes her dress off. “The dog or the raccoon?” she asks, her voice half-joking, half-panicking.
I rub the back of my neck, fighting a smirk. “The dog. Can’t say much for the raccoon.”
“My first day here, and I’m already fighting wildlife. Should I be worried?”
“Mostly harmless unless you’re a trash can,” I reply, watching as Maverick chases the raccoon down the hallway.
“Or a container of food,” she adds, examining the mauled takeaway box. “I’m Maggie, by the way, Maggie Wilkes. I…own this place,” she introduces herself with uncertainty tinging her words.
I take her hand in mine for a brief shake. “Jake Hollis, fixes things.”
Her eyes light up in recognition. “You’re Jake? Gemma mentioned you’d come by to check the damage.”
I nod in response. Of course, Gemma had to mention me. Was I going to come by? Yes. But did I want to come by when the owner’s home? No.
I take in the condition of the home’s interior. Besides some broken glass from the windows, there doesn’t seem to be much damage here in the living room. The rest of the house may be a different story, though. I’ll take a look around and see what we’re dealing with.
From the kitchen, a soft whimper from Maverick catches my attention. Guess I’ll start in there. Steppinginto the kitchen, I find Maverick nudging a cabinet door open, his nose working furiously as he lets out another plaintive whine. I slowly open the door to glimpse inside.
As if a woman wielding a 2x4 and a rogue raccoon wasn’t already enough, now we have a litter of baby raccoons to contend with.
“Looks like we’ve got more guests. Got any more boards?” I ask, turning to Maggie.
She pauses, blinking at me for a moment, before walking beside me. She peeks inside the cabinet; her eyes widen further as she takes in the situation. “Oh, great! More woodland creatures to fend off.”
“Seems like it. I’ll give Randy a call.”
“Randy?” Maggie queries, sweeping her brunette waves back from her face.
“The local animal guy,” I clarify. “He’s the one you call when you have raccoons taking over your house.”
She laughs lightly and nods.
“He’ll relocate them for you. Unless you want to live with the, uh, woodland creatures.”
“Absolutely not.”
As I dial Randy’s number, Maverick paws at one of the babies in curiosity. The raccoon squeals and rushes back toward its siblings, making Maverick yelp in surprise.
Maggie chuckles, surprising me with her lightness despite the chaos. “You weren’t expecting that, were you, big guy?” she coos at my dog, who’s now sitting a safe distance away from the cabinet.
“They are kind of cute, I guess,” she comments, peering in the cabinet again.
“Until they bite your finger off,” I add with a shake of my head.
“Touché,” she replies, standing back up and taking a few steps away. Her eyes meet mine, a hint of amusement sparkling in them. “I guess I’ll have to get used to the wildlife around here.”
“Or you could just keep your windows closed.”
“Point taken.”
Maverick sniffs Maggie, then licks her hand.
“All the chaos, and we haven’t properly met. Hello, Maverick. I’m Maggie.”
