Page 10 of Until You

“Yep. He did, but that was before we met you,” Addy says.

“And you’re cool. You have a cat,” Paige adds.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I whisper. “I promise I’m not a pain-in-the-you-know-what.”

“We know,” they say in unison as one rocks on their heels and the other cranes their neck to look inside the house.

Either their dad sent them to check me out or they’re really curious.

Hani jumps out of Addy’s arms and moves gracefully toward his bowl and meows. “It’s his dinnertime. Can you tell he’s never missed a meal?”

Addy quirks her head to the side and twists her lips in contemplation. “Now that you mention it, he is kind of fat.”

“Shh,” I whisper. “You’ll hurt his feelings.” That earns me the giggles I was working for. “Thank you for bringing him—”

“Can we help feed him?” Paige asks and, before I can answer, she walks through the open doorway and makes herself at home.

“Yeah, can we?” Addy follows suit. “This place is cool. Cute.” She walks around the open space that serves as a family room, a dining room, and an office space all in one, her fingers trailing over the table and then the back of the couch before she turns to face me. “We’ve always wanted a pet—a dog—but we couldn’t because—”

“We live in Chicago and Dad says it’s not fair to have a dog when there isn’t a yard.”

“But there is a lot of yard here, so we’re going to work on him to foster a dog while we’re here. Then we’ll fall in love with it, and he won’t have a choice but to take it home with us when we go back.”

“Oh. You’re not moving here permanently?” That’s news to me.

“Nope,” Addy says as she picks up a photo of my “family” and examines it. “Just for the summer. Dad told his uncle that he’d help him with the house, so we came out here.”

“At least that’s the reason he told us—fresh air and sunshine and less screen time—but we know it’s more for him,” Paige says with a roll of her eyes. “But it’s cool because this house has more rooms, so we have an extra one to make an influencer studio for us.”

“An influencer studio?”

“Yep. Dad likes to focus on one project at a time. Uncle Ian’s stuff, first. Then something he calls a pipe dream that makes no sense to us. We know better than to ask for too many things at once,” Paige adds, “but it’s on our list.”

“You have a list?” I ask as I move to the kitchen and pull out the container that holds Hani’s food. By the way he rubs himself against my legs, I’ve now regained the favorite person in the room status.

“Yes. We do. Dad says lists are important,” Paige says, picking up Hani’s bowl without me asking her to and bringing it over to me. “Why would you name a cat Hani?”

Images flash in my head that feel like forever ago. Turquoise water. Black sand beaches. My friends I miss dearly. So much left behind in a life that it took me quite a while to remember what it felt like to live it.

“It sounds . . .”

“Hawaiian,” I finish for a struggling Addy. “It means lucky.”

“Lucky?” Paige asks. “Why not just name him Lucky, then?”

Because that’s what I am.

“Because everybody needs a little bit of luck in their life,” I say.

“Are you Hawaiian?” Addy asks, scrunching up her nose to study me.

“Nope. Just liked the name is all.”

I wait for more questions that I’ll have to fake my way out of, but before they come, Hani’s purrs grow louder.

“Here,” Paige says, noticing him, and takes the container of food from me.

“He only gets one cup for dinner,” I instruct as Addy sits cross-legged on the ground beside the bowl and both of them run their hands down his back while he begins to eat.