Chapter 3
Chapter Three
ELLA
T he fog never broke, and it became more opaque with each passing hour. Isla was with Luke and Aria was with her new boyfriend, the incredible Declan Sullivan. Dex, as we called him, had stumbled into Aria’s life unexpectedly. He’d floated into the harbor on a renovated tugboat. He was in Whisper Cove to help a friend who had gotten into trouble and was suffering the grave consequences of his own bad decisions. In the end, Dex saved his friend and found his true love in our small town. My sister, Aria, was not an easy person to please or impress, but he’d managed to do both in a short span of time. Now, Dex had an apartment in the next town, and he got up every morning to work in Aria’s café. He’d told Aria that for once in his adult life, he felt like he belonged. It was fun seeing my usually level-headed oldest sister wander around with stars in her eyes. Dex was certainly worthy of those stars.
Layla carried a plate with cheese and crackers out to the blanket I’d spread on the floor. The fire crackled as it turned the wooden logs into glowing piles of embers. The cottage’s old bones made it especially susceptible to extreme weather, and tonight was no different. We’d all be buried deep under layers of blankets, soft flannels and thick socks tonight. But for now, we were quite cozy and warm in front of the blazing hearth.
Ava brought out a bottle of chilled white wine and the bowl of pistachio nuts. “So, you said there was quite a story behind these pistachios.” She sat down and wrapped her long legs up like a pretzel. “Only our sister Ella could have an entire story to go around a bag of nuts.”
“Not surprising at all.” Layla pulled a lavender scrunchie off her wrist and twisted her thick copper hair into a loose knot. “Remember the orange incident?” Layla quickly waved her hand. “That’s right. You were somewhere across the globe, Borneo or Singapore or Timbuktu or one of those places. Ella was at the market buying produce. She was trying to put an orange in her shopping bag, but it missed and rolled out the door where it promptly began its escape by racing down the sidewalk. Ella chased after it. The orange bounced off Walter Hudson’s shoe and nearly pitched the old guy over the top of his walker. The deflection off Walter’s shoe caused the orange to make a sharp right turn, where it rolled through traffic only to be flattened by a car. And thus was the long and tragic tale of Oscar the Orange. He tasted freedom for a few minutes only to meet a grisly demise. I’m paraphrasing but I think I got most of that right.” Layla looked at me for approval.
“Yes, and I think that’s the last time we need to hear about the adventures of Oscar the Orange. This is a little more intriguing. Someone purchased Grimstone Manor, a man—a somewhat mysterious man—who just happened to be tall enough to grab the pistachios off the top shelf. That encounter, in itself, is a humiliating tale, so I’ll tell it another time when I’m feeling cocky and confident.”
Layla finished a bite of cheese. “Wow, is that place even inhabitable?” She leaned forward. “Wait, more importantly—is he a single man, and is he handsome?”
“I have no idea if he’s single, and yes, I suppose he would fall into the handsome category.”
Layla scoffed. “Praise indeed from the family wordsmith.” She picked up a slice of apple and dunked it into the peanut butter jar.
“All right, I’ll embellish on my previous comment. He’s tall with deep golden hair and brown eyes that can look right through to your soul. And deep in his soul there’s something that has stolen his smile, but something tells me, when it breaks free, it will be nothing short of spectacular. And there’s a scar on his left arm that doesn’t look like one of those ‘oops, I touched the boiling soup pot when I was eight’ scars. It’s a scar that is a story in itself. And that’s all I can say from the short and entirely embarrassing interaction where I called the man ‘strange and grim.’ Not directly to his face, of course, but I don’t think it matters.”
Ava and Layla exchanged looks.
“What?” I asked.
Ava shrugged. “Nothing but that was a rather detailed description of the mysterious, scarred stranger who you apparently had a meet-cute with at Gem’s store.” Layla was nodding along with her assessment.
I laughed. “Apparently, you missed the words ‘embarrassing’ and ‘humiliating’ when I talked about our interaction. Trust me, there was nothing cute about it. And I gave the detailed description because Layla made fun of my first description, and I won’t have my skills as a wordsmith called into question.” I picked up a handful of pistachios, and the few horrifying moments in the shop flashed through my brain. I dropped the nuts back in the bowl. “Subject change, and this one is much more exciting.”
The girls sat forward with interest.
“I have a video interview tomorrow with an online publication called Stories We Love. They publish stories about small towns.”
Both sisters clapped and cheered. “Wine!” Ava reached for the bottle. “Time for a toast.”
“I don’t have the job yet, but I’ve got a good feeling. I’ll finally be able to pitch in more.” I could feel my throat tighten as I looked at both of them. “I’m so lucky to have such amazing sisters. I appreciate all you guys have done to let me continue my writing dream. I think this job will help me achieve that dream. It’ll give me good experience, and it’ll be a nice bonus in my cover letter when I approach publishers. Thanks, guys. I love you so much.”
We were all teary-eyed as we raised our glasses.
“To Ella, the world’s best writer!”