Page 59 of Like a Hurricane

“This is where Harper found Pickles,” Maya explains with a humored smile, “It was strange at first.”

“I can imagine,” I laugh, “I’m not sure what I would have done if my child brought home a chicken as a pet.”

She nods her agreement, “Still, I would have given her anything then to make her smile. If that means my daughter keeps a chicken, then a chicken it is.”

The door opens ahead of us and an older woman steps onto the wrap around porch. Kindness oozes from every inch of the woman, dark eyes, hair and skin, she smiles brightly at Maya, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“My sweet,” she wraps Maya into a tight hug like it had been weeks since they last saw each other, but I doubted it had been that long. There was a fondness in the way the woman looks at Maya, motherly almost, so I had a feeling her greetings were always that warm.

“Hi Ruthie,” Maya squeezes the woman’s hand before she turns to me, “This is Arryn, Everett’s…” she trails off and cocks a brow, a knowing smile pulling on her mouth.

“Friend,” I insert, swallowing it down. We were much more than friends – lovers? Friends who fuck? In a relationship? I had no fucking idea.

“Oh, good lord,” Ruthie blows out a breath, “Good luck to you, sweetness, he’s certainly something.”

I laugh in shock, “He sure is.”

“Come in,” She ushers us through, “I swear another snowstorm is about to come in.”

I step through the door to instant warmth and comfort, there’s the smell of fresh bread wafting through, mixed with coffee and logs burning. It was a lodge of some sort, cozy and quaint and incredibly quiet.

“We get busier in the spring and summer,” Ruthie explains, “It’s not always this dull.”

“I think it’s lovely,” I say honestly. Paintings hang on the walls, an array of different scenes that all resemble the small little town, from the bay to the buildings that haven’t stepped out of time.

Ruthie pats my hand, “Sit down, the two of you, I’ll fetch coffee.”

“She never stops,” Maya rolls her eyes, “I try, but she swats at me like I’m fly if I get in her way.”

“She loves you deeply,” I observe.

Maya nods, “She does. Harper and Torin too. Even Rett when she can stop complaining about his antics.”

“I take it he caused trouble?”

“He has a great skill of winding people up.” Maya laughs.

There was not a shred of doubt that that was not true. Playful and charming. My cheeks heat and I look away quickly, picking at the chipped polish on my nails.

Maya doesn’t call me on it and I’m grateful for that and when Ruthie returns, another woman is with her. About Maya’s age, with long wavy blonde hair woven with darker honey and caramel-colored strands. And on her hip is a dark-haired boy, no older than two with this mane of dark curls that fall around his round face. He didn’t look like the woman holding him in anything but his eyes. Big and round, the color of whiskey and framed by lush dark lashes.

“Vanessa,” Maya jumps up and takes the small boy who giggles in delight at her attention.

Vanessa holds her hand to me, and I take it quickly, “Arryn,” I introduce myself.

“All the Avery boys are getting themselves together, it seems,” She smiles but a sadness enters her eyes that I’m not entirely sure she realizes is there.

Ruthie places the tray with four cups on it on the counter, a fresh pot of coffee steaming in the middle. There’s a plate of cookies and a small jug of cream and sugar.

“So how did you meet Rett?” Vanessa asks, giving her finger to the boy for him to wrap his own chubby ones around it.

“He took on a job for my father,” Vanessa’s eyes widen, and I realize Maya and me aren’t the only ones who know exactly what it is the Avery’s do. “And it kind of went wrong.” I cringe, leaving it at that.

Maya gives me a small sympathetic smile, passing a cookie to the little boy in her arms.

“Is he yours?” I ask Vanessa.

At this she beams, “He is. This is Ethan.”

---