Page 50 of Before Eve
“I’lltry.”
“Maybe if I kiss you again?”
The temperature inside the car elevates and suddenly I’m nervous for another reason.
“Mission accomplished.”
I laugh, despite my incredible nerves.
He pulls up to a Spanish style house with a manicured lawn. I think of the mansion I was raised in—so intimidating where this already comes across as welcoming and warm.
We park and get out, and I follow him up a terracotta walkway.
“What do you think?” he asks.
A gentle smile finds its way to me. “Lovely.”
Right as we step onto the porch, the front door opens a few inches, and a tiny head peeks out. West grabs her nose. “This is my cousin, Maria.”
She bats his hand away, switching to me, giving me a once-over that makes me want to fidget.
“She’s a runt for six,” West teases, and Maria charges out the door. He swings her up and squeezes her until she squeaks.
A man appears next in the doorway, and I assume he must be West’s father. They look identical. He stands the same height as West but looks fuller through the shoulders like he lifts weights.
West puts Maria down. “Hey, Dad.” They embrace in a long, warm hug with such obvious love and affection it tugs through me and makes me mourn what I’ve never had, and yet I’m so happy for West that he does.
West takes a step back. “This is Eve.”
I nod at his dad but hang back a little bit. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolf.”
Maria surprises me by taking my hand. “Hi, Eve. West said you were pretty. I love your blue hair. I might want blue hair. Or maybe green. Yeah, probably green. Green’s my favorite.”
“We’re sticking with brown,” Mr. Wolf says to her as he reaches out a hand to me. “Welcome to our home, Eve.”
I shake it. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Then like a whirlwind, a girl in a wheelchair bursts through the door. With her long black hair and dark eyes, there is no doubt she is related to West. This has to be his sister.
“West!” she squeals.
“Vianca!” he squeals back, mimicking, making them both laugh. He leans down to give her a huge hug. It’s only then that I note we climbed a ramp to get to their porch.
She grins up at me, and I completely see West in her then. “I’m so glad you’re here, Eve.” She backs her wheelchair up and spins around. “Come on in.”
The inside of their house matches the outside. Spanish style with tile floors, a mixture of rustic wood and leather furniture, colorful throw pillows, whitewashed walls, beam rafters, and open rooms separated by archways. Pictures of the family hang everywhere. I’m drawn more to them than anything. There’s one of a beautiful lady with Hawaiian features. She must be their mom.
“Your house is great,” I tell Vianca.
“Thanks. Now that Maria’s living with us, we’ve had to shuffle things around.”
West comes through one of the archways. “Maria’s living here?”
Vianca lowers her voice. “New development. Tell you about it later. Gramma!” Vianca yells. “Get a move on! They’re here!”
“Vianca,” West halfheartedly reprimands her. “Leave Gramma alone.”
“What? Gramma primps more than me. And she’s got aboyfriend.”
