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Never mind that I’d stopped in for a snack and a cup of coffee every day this week after our unspoken truce, or that my gut did an abysmal nosedive whenever she wasn’t behind the counter.
“Careful, Lizzy, don’t want to give a man the wrong impression.”
“You’re entirely responsible for wherever the hell your brain just went,” she said with a giggle, pink flushing her pretty cheeks. The draw to this woman was insufferable. “Besides, don’t you ever have a little fun?”
“I have fun killing fish for a living.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, if that was my idea of fun, my face would be stuck like that, too.”
“Alright, leave my face alone.”
“Got something better to discuss?”
“You coming to Salmon Fest?”
“According to your sisters, it’s a rite of passage.”
“They’re not wrong,” I admitted with a smile. We’d been coming to the annual spring festival every year for as long as I could remember. If you could really call forty degrees and rainy ‘spring’ just because it was May. Milo and Juniper had been attending even longer.
“Hey, Bill!” A man boisterously exclaimed as he came in the door. I hated when people acted like everyone needed to be privy to their conversation, but when my eyes locked on Rodger Whalen, I let it go. That man had been a staple in the community since before my time.
Lizzy smirked as I came back to her. “So, what’s a must-see?”
“Vendors,” I said simply.
“Very helpful,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Got anything specific?”
“Nope. It’s kinda cliche—exactly what you’d expect.”
“Way tosell it, James,” Elora’s voice just about made me wince. Was it Friday already? I loved my sister—obviously—but she had this air about her that made me feel like I was always falling short. She was larger than life, traveling the country, speaking on stage, helping people and shit. And I lived for my days off so I could go hike…alone.
“Hey!” Lizzy preened, reaching for her like the oldest of friends. “Elora, right? Rhyett has told me so much that I feel like I already know you. It’s nice to finally meet in person!”
“Hey!” Elora chirped happily, her gray eyes lighting up with recognition. She’d undoubtedly already befriended all of Brexley’s known associates, their families, dogs, and employers. You couldn’t take the woman to a grocery store in bum fuck Kansas without her either running into someone she met somewhere in the world or befriending the stock boy on aisle twelve who looked like he could use a hug.
We’d gone down to see Rhyett’s progress on mom’s retirement house, and, subsequently, meet his girl. Elora never—and I mean never—left a stone unturned. Especially not if someone had any intention of joining the ranks of our family. Or,tribe, as she said.
“You’re Brexley’s Red!”
“Elizabeth,” she corrected, jerking her head back toward the counter. Elora blinked like she was confused before schooling her face back into a warm, receptive smile. “Welcome home! Let’s get you something toasty to warm up with.”
And just like that, my sister stole my sunbeam for herself. Being overshadowed by siblings should be something you adapted to, especially being sandwiched between two rays of fucking sunshine, but it never stopped irritating me. We weren’t all saints.
To my dismay, when Lizzy’s shift ended, she left the shop arm-in-arm with Elora, like they were the oldest and dearest of friends. Matching short, choppy haircuts and lean frames, they were nearly the same height. El was leggier, but that was about it. Where Lizzy boasted a crown of dark red mixed with copper, Elora was the genetic winner of a mousy brown somewhere between our parent’s palettes. With narrowed eyes, I stared after them as they pulled hoods up over their curls and waves and vanished into the gray.
“Subtle, James.”
Snapping my focus up to Brin, I leaned back in my chair. “Like we needed two of them.”
“The world always needs more Eloras,” she argued.
“Does it, though?” I grumbled back. “Bossy little know-it-alls, who befriend anything with a pulse?”
“Perspective-sharing geniuses who love big enough to save the population? Yeah. I think we can use as many as we can find.”
“Suit yourself.”
Her laugh felt like the first glimpse at Mistyvale mountains after weeks on the water. I’d always loved Brinleigh. For a while there, I thought it would be something special, but even as it evolved into a bizarre platonic adaptation of what had started, she was like a walking hug. A lot like Lizzy, I suppose. Rhyett, Axel, and I had run off the shit bags and lowlifes, until she met her now-husband, Paul. Great guy. Built like a two-by-four, but a great guy. And he treats her right, in a way I sure as shit never could. She was happy. And that’s all I wanted.
