Page 9 of Wolf.e
Brinley
The sound of cicadas buzzing and birds chirping wake me from my sleep, which tells me it is no longer early morning. I pull my mom’s comforter up over my face. Thankfully, when I got to my family home last night, I found it still in one piece and critter free. My parents’ old house is massive. It sits on over an acre of land and is stately. It hasn’t changed décor-wise since I was a kid, and it was definitely an eerie homecoming. The once warm halls, which used to echo with Mom’s favorites—Reba McIntyre or worship music—were silent and sterile with everything covered in sheets. It felt more like the typical haunted houses you see in old movies. All my mother’s clothing was donated, and her fancy dishes were packed in bins on raised shelves.
My aunt did a good job of hiring a preservation company to seal this place up before she moved away with her new husband last year. All the pillows and bedding were still vacuum sealed in the linen closet and almost still smelled fresh when I pulled them out and made the bed.
I did fear for my foot going right through the rotted boards of my wraparound front porch when I made my way up the old creaky steps last night. But aside from that, everything seems to be okay, which is a relief.
I rub my eyes and glance at the time. 10:30 a.m. I check my phone out of habit for any calls from Evan. There are none.
“Day one of a new life,” I say as I blow out a deep breath and stand, pulling on my slippers. I plan to spend my day both unpacking and getting the house feeling like a home again. But first, I have to head to town, get some sort of coffee and grab a few things, including a dress for Layla’s wedding because that is definitely not something I brought with me.
My phone buzzes with two texts from Layla before I even get out the door.
PB
I’m so glad you’re here!
Let’s do lunch Wednesday, you looked so nervous last night.
I did not
PB
Yes, you did. I’m thinking I should mentally prepare you for the scene you’re walking into and the men, a little different than you’re used to. Not bad, just different.
We had all that etiquette training growing up, but in this world it’s useless. You need a whole new set of etiquette rules with the club.
Excellent. can’t wait for class. These men sound like just what I’ve been missing.
PB
Maybe they are… I mean did that ex of yours ever even give you an orgasm?
I sigh.
Occasionally. Truthfully…not without my help
PB
Exactly what I thought. Happy shopping today! Blue is always a hot color on you, and show off those tits. I’ll expect photos of your choice.
Yes slutty mom
I picture the men with her last night. I can still recall the smell of leather and smoke.No way.Not my type whatsoever.
After my shower, I toss on a white tank top and tie a black and white flannel around my waist. I add a pair of worn in cut off jean shorts and my Birkenstocks. My hair is tossed in a clip before heading out the door. I almost put my foot through the front porch again.
“Son of a—” I start to say to myself.
“Probably termites,” a vaguely familiar voice says to me from next door. My eyes snap to the direction of the voice and I recognize its owner almost instantly.
“Hi, Mr. Kennedy. It’s been a long time,” I say.
He looks older. I think he’s close to eighty by now.
“Yep, but I’m still kicking.” His white mustache wiggles and his weathered face is in a broad smile as he holds a trusty pair of clipping shears, working on his hedges bordering twenty feet from my driveway. “Are you back for good? Nice to see some life over there, honey.”
He was always such a sweet man. His wife cooked for us for two weeks when my dad died.
