Epilogue
Liz
Two months ago, if someone had told me I’d be living with a dragon shifter and hosting get-togethers with his quad, I would have suggested they seek psychiatric help. Yet here I was, feeling more at peace than I had in years.
Well, maybe not complete peace, since Zarek and Atlas were arguing about the best type of potato to use in potato salad.
“For the last time, red potatoes hold their shape better.” Zarek crossed his arms with stubborn certainty.
Atlas pointed his beer at him. “Sure, they hold shape, but Yukon Golds have a creamier texture. It’s about mouthfeel.”
“Mouthfeel?” Zarek scoffed. “When did you become a food critic?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you two seriously having a dispute about potatoes?”
Zarek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re hostages to his experimentation.”
“Quality control is important.” Atlas winked at me. “You’ll be my tiebreaker today.”
I looked between them. “I agree with Zarek.”
Zarek gave Atlas a smug look as Atlas gasped dramatically.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Atlas said.
“I’m on the side of the potato salad. That’s all I’m committed to.” I’d only tasted three versions of Atlas’s salad, and all were delicious.
Lucan laughed from the chair next to mine, his hand resting easily on my knee.
Kade leaned back with his feet up on the railing, contributing only an amused smile to the potato debate.
Reese had her legs tucked up under her in the big Adirondack chair she’d claimed the moment we came outside, her wine glass balanced on the armrest.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it.
It buzzed again.
And again.
She picked it up, looked at the screen, and made a face somewhere between amusement and mild concern.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Harper.” She tilted the phone so I could see the screen.
The texts were coming in fast.
Harper: SOS!
Harper: No, literally. SOS.
Then a meme of a cat with its head stuck in a cereal box and a voice memo.
Harper: Don’t listen to that. I was crying, and I sound like a seal.
Harper: Call me when you’re done getting busy.
Harper: I’ll be over here entering my cobweb crotch era.
A string of emojis followed, ranging from a cat to an eggplant to several skulls.
I laughed before I could stop myself. “You’d better call her before she resorts to smoke signals.”
Reese stood and slipped through the back door with her wine, shutting the door behind her.
Atlas and Zarek had moved on from potatoes to whether or not Zarek’s dock needed to be re-sealed for winter, which was an equally riveting topic. I listened for a few minutes, finishing my drink.
“I’m going to grab another drink.” I stood, and Lucan caught my hand, pulling me in for a quick kiss.
Inside, I found Reese in the living room, pacing in front of the fireplace with her phone held out. A video call was in progress, and I could hear a woman’s voice speaking rapidly.
“Slow down, Harper.”
I backed toward the door. This felt like a private thing, and the last thing I wanted to do was walk into the middle of it.
But before I could make it outside, Reese adjusted the angle of the phone, and Harper stopped mid-sentence.
“Is that Liz?”
I stopped.
Reese turned around with an expression that was half apology, half amusement. “Liz, this is Harper.”
I approached reluctantly, feeling awkward. “Sorry, I just wanted to get a refill and make sure everything was okay. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
Harper had dark hair with a few strands of gray that had probably started the day in a neat bun and had since staged a revolt. Her green eyes were glossy and puffy.
“No, stay! I’ve heard so much about you.” She waved a hand and then let out a deep sigh. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I joined Reese as she sat down on the couch.
Reese grabbed her wine from where she’d set it on the coffee table. “Do I even want to ask why?”
“Kids.” Harper rolled her eyes. “He’s fifty-two years old! Fifty-two, and he looked at me—a forty-four-year-old woman who hasn’t had a normal period in two years and has two adult children—and said he wanted his own. He knows I’m done.”
“You told him that when you started dating.” Reese took a sip of her wine.
Harper flopped onto her bed. “On our second date, and he said he understood completely. He even acknowledged that Butters was my third child.”
“Butters?”
“Her cat… listen, maybe just take a break?” Reese suggested gently. “Bask in the singleness for a while.”
Harper sat up, swiping at her eyes. “I think you’re right. I’m done with men. I gave him three years of my life, and what did I get? A man who apparently didn’t listen to a single thing I said.”
“Maybe you should come visit. You could stay in the RV now that Liz has moved in with Lucan.”
Harper tilted her head. “What’s the weather like?”
“Well, it’s almost November, so it’s beautiful.”
“You know I hate the cold.” She glanced off-screen.
“Butters hates it too. He gets picky about his paws. Obviously, I can’t leave him.
He would destroy the house. Last time I went to my sister’s for a weekend, he somehow got the pantry door open and ate an entire package of treats and then looked completely innocent about it.
I can’t—” Her head snapped hard to the left. “Hey, you little shit!”
There was a loud crash. The phone swung wildly, and for a brief second, I saw a not-so-little orange blur launch off something and disappear around a corner.
Then the call dropped.
Reese stared at her phone. “I should text her to make sure she’s okay.”
“I’ll head back out.” I stood up. “But seriously. Invite her. It might be good.”
Reese was already typing. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I think it might.”
I grabbed another drink and headed back outside. The warm glow from the string lights and Lucan’s easy laugh reminded me that good things had a way of finding their way in eventually.
Even when you’d stopped expecting them.
Thank you for reading Smoke Signal!