Chapter 20
Seth
The morning started earlier than usual, even for me.
By the time the sun broke over the rooftops, Blair was already waiting at the guesthouse door, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and that calm steadiness about her that I had come to recognize as both a gift and a curse.
Olive skipped out with Bunny in hand, jabbering about fireflies and pasta and how ‘Uncle Seth promised to catch bugs again tonight.’ I cleared my throat at the title, but Blair only smiled knowingly, as if she had already decided this was a permanent thing.
Madison gave Olive a lingering kiss on the cheek, a soft “be good” tucked into her curls, and then turned to me with that look that was part no nonsense, part plea. “Let’s get this over with.”
We stopped at The Beanery on the way to the meeting.
Evie had two coffees ready before we even asked.
Madison took hers with sugar and cream, I took mine black, and for a brief moment, the world felt almost manageable.
She sipped hers too fast, lips pressing tight like she needed the caffeine to brace herself.
The adjuster’s office sat at the edge of town in a squat brick building that looked like it hadn’t seen new paint since the seventies.
Inside, the air was stale, the kind that carried the smell of paper and faint mildew.
The man waiting for us behind the desk wore a tie that had seen better days and an expression that already said no.
I laid out the photos, my notes, and the timeline.
Madison sat beside me, posture straight, fingers curled tight around her notebook.
I did the talking first, about the structural damage, storm debris, and compromised framing.
The adjuster nodded along, scribbled notes on a yellow pad, and then leaned back with a sigh.
“Well, Mr. Cunningham,” he said, voice slow and bureaucratic, “cases like this can take weeks. Sometimes months. We’ve got a lot on our plate right now.”
I felt Madison stiffen beside me. “Months?” she repeated, her voice tight. “We can’t wait that long. My daughter needs to be back in her own home soon.”
“I understand,” he said, a tone that made it clear he didn’t. “But it’s a process. Paperwork. Approvals. Permits. Nothing I can do to speed it up.”
Her hand trembled where it rested on the notebook. I slid my palm over it, steady, grounding, and leaned forward. “With respect, there’s always something you can do. You’ve got everything you need in front of you: photos, documentation, and my report. We’re not asking for miracles, just action.”
The man shifted uncomfortably. “Like I said, it takes time.”
Madison’s breath hitched. She stood quickly, chair scraping against the tile. “This is our life. You’re talking about forms and signatures like they matter more than a roof over my daughter’s head.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and I knew if I didn’t step in, she’d unravel right there.
I rose beside her, placing a steady hand at the small of her back. “Come on,” I said quietly, guiding her out before she said something she’d regret.
Outside, the air was heavy and hot, the kind that pressed down on your lungs. Madison turned away from me, blinking fast, pulling in sharp breaths. “Weeks, Seth. Maybe months. What are we supposed to do?”
Her voice broke, and I felt something inside me crack right with it.
“You’ll stay at the guesthouse,” I said firmly. “For as long as you need. I don’t care if it’s weeks or months. It’s not charity. It’s not pity. It’s just what we’re going to do.”
She shook her head, frustrated. “I don’t want to live in your space. I don’t want Olive to—”
“To what? Get comfortable?” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “She already is. And so are you, even if you won’t admit it. You’re not a burden, Madison. You’re not in my way. You and Olive are safe there, and I’ll make damn sure it stays that way until your house is fixed.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, brown and glassy but fierce. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The heat from the pavement rose around us, the sound of traffic hummed in the distance, and all I could think was how badly I wanted to shoulder the weight she carried so she didn’t have to.
Finally, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Two words, small and honest, but enough to make the steel I kept around my heart shift. I gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go.
“Come on,” I said, softer now. “Let’s get Olive. She’ll want to hear about how we fought the big bad insurance man.”
Her laugh, quiet and shaky, was worth more than any signature we hadn’t gotten.