Chapter 3 – Violet
“Are you finally fleeing town?”
Gran’s question startled me as I was sliding my bag into my car. I flinched, banging my head on the doorframe. Scowling, I rubbed my tender head. It wouldn’t help Lee if I knocked myself silly and was too concussed to take care of him.
“Gran, you scared me.”
My grandmother, glorious in a long red jacket with faux fur edging the hood, gave me a pitying glance.
“If that’s true, your life really is too boring for words.
” She shook her head slowly from side to side.
“So, are you ditching island life and heading off to the big city to meet the man of your dreams?”
“I’m not living in a Hallmark movie.”
“You sure about that? Your life seems about as tame as one.”
I bit my tongue. There was no need to debate Gran over my love life, or lack thereof.
Ever since she turned her years-long feud with her next-door neighbor into a full-blown romance, she seemed eager for me to be more adventurous.
Her new relationship had already forced me to witness the horrifying sight of Mr. Reyes in a bodysuit and fig leaf at Halloween, and, frankly, I wasn’t ready to forgive her.
“I’m moving in with Lee for a few days. He got hurt on a rescue and needs help at his place.”
Offering Lee as a sacrificial lamb was dirty, but it was better than Gran dissecting my life choices.
She kicked my oldest brother, Drew, out of the family farmhouse last spring.
She wasn’t above manipulation to get what she wanted.
I didn’t want to present her with a target.
She’d deny it, but I suspected she was bored, and meddling in her grandkids’ lives seemed to give her a thrill.
Gran’s eyes glittered with interest. “Moving in with Lee, hm?” She grinned. “What are your brothers going to say?”
“Nothing, if they know what’s good for them. I’m an adult, and I’m helping out a friend.”
She reached out a weathered hand, patting my cheek, her expression skeptical.
“Keep telling yourself that, Vi.” She winked.
“Just remember: fight fire with a flamethrower. You’re not a wisp of smoke; you’re a dragon trying to sneeze politely.
Some days, you gotta let your dragon breathe.
Your brothers can handle a little singeing. ”
Coming from a woman who prided herself on being nicknamed the San Juan Dragon, I took her advice with a grain of salt.
I hadn’t even made it out of the driveway when my phone buzzed, a notification lighting my screen. The family chat had a new message.
Gran: PSA - Little V is shacking up with Lee. Will have manure on standby.
I groaned. Maybe I should move away. Though, as soon as the thought landed, I knew I’d never leave.
I was born here. Built a small business I loved in the Salty Pantry.
Sure, my family was full of interfering schemers who didn’t know when a prank went too far, but I adored them anyway.
At sixteen, I didn’t have the resources to fight back against their overbearing ways. But now? Watch out.
Lee lay scowling at his laptop from his office couch. I forced a bright smile as I carried my duffel toward the stairs.
“Hey! Need anything? If not, I’ll settle in.”
“Nope.”
Used to his monosyllabic responses when he was writing, I carried my things upstairs.
The second floor of Lee’s house had a large kitchen and living room with magnificent views of the water.
Sailboats moored like tiny islands in this part of the Salish Sea, bobbing peacefully in the protected waters.
I bypassed the kitchen, heading to the third floor and Lee’s bedroom.
In all the years we’d been friends, I’d only been inside his room on the day he moved.
Then, it had lacked any personality, essentially a blank canvas for Lee to make his own.
Staring at it now, if I hadn’t helped haul furniture five years ago, I’d believe he moved in last week.
The walls were still bare. A king-size bed took up most of the floor space, neatly made with gray bedding that looked soft enough to sink into.
But that was the room’s only touch of comfort.
His dresser was free of any knickknacks or photos.
There were no stray socks on the floor, no discarded cups or plates on the bedside table.
It felt more like a hotel room than a bedroom.
Something about that struck me as sad. Lee would probably argue that the room was tranquil, but it just looked unlived in.
A large window looking out over the bay drew my eye. The view of the water was stunning. Bright blue and magnificent. If he’d wanted to keep the focus of every room on the water, he’d succeeded.
Lee was tapping away on his laptop when I returned downstairs.
“What would you like for lunch?” I asked.
He pointed to his desk. “I’ve got protein bars in my top drawer.”
“Not good enough, Lee.”
“I don’t need you to wait on me, Vi. Go back to work. I’ve got this.” His words would have been more convincing if they hadn’t ended on a wince.
“I’ve already closed the shop for the day. If I’m not helping you, I’m grabbing my laptop to see if Harry’s online for a game.”
He looked relieved, and I tried not to take it as an insult.
“That sounds like a great idea. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
Recognizing the hunger gnawing at my belly, I faded out of the room and went to inspect his kitchen. It was gorgeous –beautiful white cabinets, a huge island for prep, and top-end appliances. A chef’s dream. And like the rest of the house, it looked like Lee barely touched it.
I pulled open cabinets, excitement turning to dismay as each cupboard was nearly bare.
No spices. Hardly any staples like flour or rice.
What did the man eat? If I asked, he’d probably roll his eyes and point to his drawer of protein bars.
I had no idea that eating with me constituted the bulk of his real nutrition.
Lee wasn’t built like my brothers, but he had muscle in all the right places.
I couldn't believe he managed a body like that on protein bars and a few sad cans of soup.
I grabbed my keys, calling out, “I’m headed to the grocery store. Any requests?”
Frowning, he dug out his wallet, extending a card. “Yes. Use my card.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I protested.
His frown turned to a glower. “Yes. I do. That glint in your eye tells me this isn’t a run for milk. Take my card. I can afford it.” His expression softened. “Have fun, Vi.”
For anyone else, it would have been a chore. But for me? Heaven. He’d as good as given me permission to outfit his entire kitchen.
I grinned. “Text me if you think of any requests. I may be a while.”
“I really would be happy with more protein bars. Maybe a loaf of bread for grilled cheese.”
“Where’s your imagination, Lee?”
He glanced down at his laptop. “Figuring out how to murder this truck driver and make it look like an accident to keep my readers guessing.”
“Gotcha,” I said dryly. “Let me know if you need a brainstorming buddy.”
His lip quirked up at the corner. “You think about murder a lot?”
“Only when it comes to my family.”
His chuckle echoed behind me.
The secret supermarket in Friday Harbor wasn’t my first choice for doing a full kitchen overhaul, but I didn’t have time to take the ferry to Anacortes to really stock up.
Friday Harbor boasted two grocery stores, the King’s Market downtown for tourists, and the unsigned store for locals—both owned by the same family.
It never failed to amuse me that they kept the larger store on the down-low.
If I felt like bougie cheeses and wine, the downtown location was my best bet, but for basics, the locals store was better.
I spent a solid hour filling my cart with flour, milk, eggs, and enough vegetables and meat to craft dinners for a week. Even if Lee bounced back quickly, I could make up a few freezer meals to keep him fed. He had to get tired of protein bars.
Darlene laughed when I handed her his credit card at checkout.
“That explains it. I couldn’t figure out why you needed so much food.
I checked What’s New, Friday Harbor at my break and saw the post about this morning’s rescue.
Is Lee doing okay? I’m guessing he’s the unnamed volunteer injured in the line of duty, given you’re carrying his credit card? ”
The joys of small-town living. Everyone knows your business.
Especially in the age of the internet. What’s New, Friday Harbor was our local source for official news and unofficial gripes.
Usually about the ferry. Sometimes about a miles-long trail of mysterious hot dog buns. Our island contained multitudes.
“I’m just helping Lee out for a few days.” He wouldn’t thank me for sharing his business. Lee was too private for that.
Darlene arched one blonde brow. “I hope he realizes he’s a lucky man if you’re planning to cook all this for him.”
Darlene’s words echoed as I pulled out my phone after loading the groceries into my trunk. If she knew my family better, she might not consider Lee so lucky. Gran’s opening shot had started a cascade of messages.
Drew: I have other ways of inflicting pain on Lee. I’ll talk to him.
Mom: Leave your sister alone.
Zach: No one said anything about bothering Vi.
Mom: Leave that poor boy alone too.
Mom: It sounds like he was a hero today. He deserves some TLC.
My mom’s defense was welcome, even if I doubted my brothers would listen. I loved them. Most of the time. I just wished they could remember that I wasn’t a na?ve sixteen-year-old anymore. I’d been managing my life and affairs for a long time. All their butting in didn’t really help.
Gran shooting her mouth off about manure was on brand.
I’d expected more maturity from Drew and Zach.
Especially when it came to their friend.
It wasn’t like Lee had ever expressed any interest in me.
Pretty sure he saw me as the fourth Fenwick brother, just with boobs, glasses, and longer dark hair.
My brothers had nothing to fear. Except me. If they messed up Lee’s recovery, they’d answer to me. And I’d learned a trick or two from their teenage shenanigans. Gran wasn’t the only one with a manure source.
Vi: Y’all are protecting the wrong person. Lee needs to heal. Knock it off.
I tossed my phone aside and drove the short distance to Lee’s house. My phone buzzed incessantly on the seat beside me. I parked and reached for it.
Drew: Wait. Do we need to have the birds and bees talk?
Zach: Gran makes a great chaperone.
Zach: Real boner-killer.
I snorted. Gran had moved in temporarily with him and Rae during a run of trouble last summer. To hear him tell it, Gran could cock-block like no other.
Mom: What – you think I’m a total failure as a mother?
Mom: Your sister knows her business.
Dad: Can second Gran as a boner-killer.
Mom: Gary.
A giggle burst out. I could practically hear my mom’s gentle disparagement. But as far as I was concerned, Dad was a saint, putting up with Gran full-time.
Gran: Lucky for you punks, Ollie and I are too busy *getting busy* to chaperone.
Gran: You’re on your own, kid.
Thank God for gentle mercies. And little blue pills.
I shuddered. I didn’t need details of Gran and Ollie’s sex life, but if it kept her out of Lee’s house, I was all for it.
He’d really lose his shit if two Fenwicks invaded his space.
I’d barely convinced him to let me stay.
If Gran tried to barge in, he’d have us both on the curb in seconds, bad ankle or no bad ankle.