Page 15

“Hello, Thomas.”

Thomas spots me too, and we stare at each other across the yard. I lift my mug. He flicks his tail.

“Don’t do it,” I warn him, my voice low. We both glance over at the bird feeder I put up two weeks ago, the same one he’s attacked and pillaged every day since. “Resist the temptation.”

Thomas tilts his head, and slowly he looks back at me, then lets his beady little eyes drift toward the bird feeder hanging from the shepherd’s hook again.

“No. I mean it.”

He crouches. Jerk.

“Thomas. Resist!”

I watch the furry menace launch himself through the air, the bird feeder swinging with such force, I’m convinced it’s about to achieve orbit before a shower of sunflower seeds rains across the lawn. It arcs in the air, slowing to a stop before it swings back, and gracefully deposits Thomas neatly on the fence with a peanut in his mouth.

Folks. Today Thomas woke up, and he chose violence.

The little traitor has the audacity to look pleased with himself. I point a finger at him, wagging it. “You’re one warning away from an eviction notice.”

Thomas stuffs the peanut into his cheeks, twitches his tail, and disappears over the fence without so much as a backward glance. The nerve.

“One of these days,” I mutter, taking another sip of hot chocolate. “One of these days.”

I walk back inside and grab my phone, spotting a text from my sister.

Lucy

On my way. Bringing Eva. Set another plate.

I stare at the message for a few seconds. Eva, too?

She’s been friends with Lucy long enough that I’ve lost track of exactly when she became part of our world. Yet, somehow, Eva and I always seem to end up at opposite ends of the proverbial dining room table when we’re around each other. Close enough to wave or say hello, but never close enough to have an actual conversation. Near enough I can tease her, but not as near as I’d like to be.

And whenever I try to change that—to cross the room and get to know her a little better—every word in my head starts clamoring to come out at once. They get tangled together somewhere between my brain and my mouth, and whatever finally escapes inevitably comes out wrong. Like scrambled eggs dripping down my sweatshirt. One hot mess.

I don’t know if it’s her or if I’m having some kind of early midlife crisis. At twenty-nine.

A horn sounds from outside before I can give the possibility too much consideration. I glance through the front window as Lucy whips into the driveway, taking the turn a bit too fast and skidding to a stop right behind my truck. Always a wild card.

In the passenger seat beside her is Eva. The late-afternoon sun catches her honey-blonde hair as she steps out of the car, spilling over her shoulders and turning the loose strands around her face gold at the edges. Man, that woman is beautiful.

A smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it. I’ve always enjoyed teasing Eva—probably because getting a reaction out of her is far too easy and watching her try not to give me one is even better. But Lucy gave me enough of a warning earlier to know that tonight isn’t the night to push.

Whatever’s going on that has spurred Lucy to bring her here for dinner, it’s clear Eva’s having a rough time. So, for once in my life, I’m going to behave.

“Coming out to greet us?” my sister taunts, window rolled down, from behind the wheel.

I incline my chin at the rogue squirrel currently on my roof staring at the scene in the front yard. We’re his entertainment.

“Making sure Thomas doesn’t try to mug you on the way in.”

“Only you would have a squirrel squatting on your property, who is training you to take care of them.” Lucy slams her door, blows a kiss to Thomas, and looks toward the backyard. “Fire pit tonight?”

I step onto the porch, pretending I didn’t hear her remarks about my newly co-dependent relationship with Thomas. “Maybe, if I can light it without cooking everyone alive.”

“You’re the only person I know who’s disappointed by warm weather.”

“I have firewood, Lucy, and a longing for a chill in the air. Is that so wrong?”