Page 33 of Spindrift

“Gladto see you’re still with us. Last time I saw you, you looked like you’d been ina war zone,” said Stevie.

Emilialooked down at her black jeans, double-checking that no lingering traces ofsawdust had made their way onto her clean clothes. “It was a close call, but Iwas promised a steak. Had to hold out for that.”

“Ihad faith in you. Ange,” Stevie called over her shoulder. A pretty brunette ina black dress that looked enviably comfortable, as well as stunning, perked upat her name and joined them.

“Happybirthday,” Emilia said. “And thanks for having me. I hope I didn’t crash yourparty.”

“Myparty?” Angie bumped Stevie with her hip. “More like Stevie’s party. It’sreally nice to meet you.”

“Thisis a beautiful house.” She wished she didn’t sound so stilted. The ease withwhich these people interacted was foreign to her.

“Letme introduce you; then I’ll give you a tour.”

“I’dlove that. Should I let Morgan know I’m here?” Emilia scanned the room,remembered that Stevie had said Morgan was grilling, and tried to catch aglimpse of the grill through the glass door on the far side of the kitchen.

Angiewaved away the suggestion and took Emilia’s arm, towing her gently into thelight of the kitchen overhead lamps.

“Emilia!”Stormy looked up from her conversation with an older couple and waved.

“Everyone,this is Emilia,” Angie said to the group.

“Hi.”Emilia wished she had brought Nell after all for emotional support.

“DanielleWatson,” said one of the older women. Her short hair and firm grip remindedEmilia of every large animal veterinarian over the age of fifty she had evermet. Something about her confident stance, weathered face, and no-bullshit aurajust radiated “I’ve wrestled cows bigger than you into submission.”

“Mywife, Patricia,” Danielle continued.

“Callme Patty.” Patty gave Emilia a motherly smile that balanced her partner’sstoicism.

Theentire queer population of Seal Cove must be in this room right now, Emilia thought as she shook morehands.

“CanI get you something to drink? We have beer and wine, and liquor somewhere, andsoda and tea,” said Lillian.

“Beersounds wonderful.”

“Takeyour pick. The rest is out back,” said Stevie as she opened the fridge. “But ifyou go out there, Morgan will steal you.”

Emilia’scheeks warmed at the words, but she laughed it off and chose a beer at random.

“Readyfor a tour?” asked Angie.

Thefirst floor of the sprawling house opened from the kitchen into a large livingroom. Both rooms shared a partial wall, which was occupied by a large stonefireplace.

“Wow.”

“Right?”said Angie. “We don’t leave these two rooms in the winter if we can help it.Morgan gets free firewood from one of her clients.”

Comfortablecouches and armchairs filled the rest of the living room. Piles of veterinarymagazines and journals littered the coffee table, and while someone had clearlyvacuumed and dusted recently, a fine layer of dog hair had already reclaimedlost territory. Bookcases lined the walls. More veterinary texts filled theshelves, along with an eclectic assortment of novels. Lillian caught herscanning the titles.

“Thedetective novels are mine,” she said.

“Alongwith the period romances, not that she’ll admit to it,” said Stevie.

“Andthese are Stevie and Angie’s,” Lillian said in a tone that suggested she didnot share their appreciation for speculative fiction. Tattered science fictionand fantasy paperbacks abutted the detective series.

“Thisis neutral territory.” Angie pointed to a collection of Harry Potter and TamoraPierce books.

Pastthe living room and down another hallway lined with animal photographs theycame to a smaller room that would have been suitable for an office had it notbeen occupied by a large TV screen, beanbags, and a plush carpet. Severalgaming consoles kept the TV company.

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