Page 3 of Wolves & Watercolors
A text vibrates and her address pops up in a bubble on my splintered screen. Curiosity prickles under my skin, and I hold down on the text until it copies. Two seconds later, google map pulls up satellite images for her home. Zooming in on the forest, there are a few trailers, a couple of larger buildings, and a smattering of cabins. The map won’t load much detail, but I count at least nine cabins. One of them must be Hazel’s.
Picturing my sister among those trees, my sense of longing intensifies until I have to press a hand to my chest. Geez, what’s wrong with me? I’ve loved living in Los Angeles since I was eighteen and starting art school. But something has been whispering in the back of my head for a while. I’m not thriving. Exhaustion drags me down and my art is dry and stiff. I need a vacation.
Instead of sending art, maybe I should visit her. It’ll have to be soon or I’ll miss the baby being born. I can hold my niece or nephew, catch up with my sister, get a break from these crazy roommates, and spend time painting in nature. My new collection will be a hit, full of life and that special je ne sais quoi lacking in my recent work. Plus a few hugs from my sister would go a long way toward recharging my soul.
Decision made, I text the manager at the hotel asking for time off. They’ve been over-staffed and everyone is fighting for hours, so it’s not a problem. Next, I map out the route and find a cheap motel at the halfway point. No reason I can’t leave tomorrow!
Feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time, I change my music to nature sounds and curl up in my bed. My dreamsare full of pine trees and dramatic possums dressed like firemen and construction workers.
II . Unexpected
Arrivals
Aurora
The address Hazel gave me leads far up into the mountains. My junker car barely makes it. The entire second day, I’m driving with my fingers crossed while I belt out Defying Gravity until my voice is hoarse. It feels like bringing a piece of Los Angeles with me into this lush landscape, bolstering my courage.
The road hitches back and forth as I climb, late afternoon sunlight spilling warm and golden over the road in stark contrast to the black shadows of swaying treetops. Light reflects off the branches, casting a green tinge along the jagged edges of the shade.
From the rough grays, browns, and blacks of tree trunks, to the range of foliage of every size and shape in a million shadesof green, it’s stunningly beautiful. I’d pull over and paint on the side of the road if I could. But that would be dumb. First, get there, second, see my sister, and then I can go into art mode.
The sharp smell of pine resin radiates through my car’s AC. It fills my lungs, imparting a buzz, a sense of excitement and adventure. Aurora’s Awesome Adventure.
The GPS on my phone flashes with instructions to turn. It’s a gas station. A dilapidated gas station that looks like it might be haunted. Ignoring the creepy building, I navigate around it to a dirt road.
The tree trunks close in, and I have to slow to avoid denting my car - though it wouldn’t be a notable difference if I did. Sighing, I add a little more gas and speed up.
A squirrel leaps from one tree to another up ahead. Its fur flashes a brilliant rust tone. A smile breaks over my face. Letting my car slow again, I peek through the trees on either side, hoping to see more wildlife.
A flash of silver streaks between trees, too quick for me to get a good look. It doesn’t reappear. Oh well. At least a tiny bluebird flits past my window and flutters up into the canopy. Beautiful!
The road ends in a dirt parking lot with two trailers. I recognize the configuration from the satellite map. The lot holds a dozen trucks and various SUVs. A sleek Jaguar sits on the end, the black metallic paint reflecting the trees around it. Someone here has some money.
After parking, I throw my door open and step out, drawing a deep breath of sharp mountain air. A woman dressed in head-to-toe gray strides toward me from the direction of the portable buildings. She’s shorter than I am with rich, tan skin and chocolate curls.
Motion catches my attention. A tall, muscular man leans his back against the building. I get the distinct feeling he isproviding back-up from the way he watches her progress with a frown on his face.
I face the woman with my hands up. “Hey! I’m here to see Hazel. She’s my sister. I’m Aurora.”
Surprise widens her eyes before she smiles politely. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cassia and this is Lazuli. If you give us a minute, he can find Hazel for you.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” I say, the words coming slowly as I observe the communicative glances between the two strangers. What have I stumbled across? They seem too official to be random neighbors. I’m getting major cult vibes.
With a nod, the man, Lazuli, jogs into the trees and out of view. Cassia stands a few feet away from me, her cool gaze steady and patient.
“It’s really lovely out here. Very refreshing,” I say awkwardly. Ah, the classic standby, the weather.
Cassia’s mouth quirks up. “It’s been unseasonably warm recently.” Our shallow exchange visibly relaxes her and my stress lessens. Good to know she isn’t an assassin waiting for permission to take me out for trespassing.
“Really? We had a cold snap in L.A.” I say, threading my fingers through my hair and twisting it back off my neck. She’s not wrong about the warmth. It would be perfect for jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, but in my fleece-lined hoodie, I’m sweating.
Lazuli strides out from behind the building, followed by Hazel and a tall figure I’m ninety-five percent sure is her partner, Slate.
“Aurora?” Hazel says, her brows furrowing. “What’s going on?”
She doesn’t seem excited to see me. I’ve made a mistake.
“I wanted to surprise you! I know you don’t need a houseguest when you’re about to have a baby, so I borrowed some camping gear. I can stay out of your way.”
