was going through the house like a whirling dervish.”
“What happened with your brother?”
Sienna shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. Got suspended for fighting, that’s all we know.” She stopped moving long enough to lean against the counter. “Kids fight, right?”
“Sure.” Especially kids in small towns. He thought briefly of himself at that age, and of the knot of teens hanging out in his back parking lot. There wasn’t a whole lot to do in Whispering Pines. Hormones and emotions ran high sometimes.
“My parents are so upset, though. They’re treating it like a personal insult.”
“That’s what parents do. Right? They think we’re extensions of them.” He opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. Popped the tops and handed her one. His mom had acted the same way when he told her what he’d done in California.
Dashiell Springer. After everything I taught you, this is where you end up?
He could still hear her disappointment across the phone line. He drank long and hard, a few generous swallows until he couldn’t hear it anymore.
“Anyway, here’s to the weekend.” Sienna touched the neck of her bottle to his. “Hope you don’t mind some company.”
“Naw. It’s a nice surprise.” He dug out some plates and silverware and scraped back a chair for her to sit on.
For a few minutes they didn’t say anything, just ate in silence. The tension of the day eased from his neck and shoulders, and when the dishes were bare, he pushed back his plate and sighed. “Your mom sure knows how to cook.”
Sienna smiled. “Yeah, she does.” She finished her beer.
“Want another?”
“Sure.”
They were the last two he had, but he didn’t mind sharing. The thought of drinking himself into oblivion had lost its appeal. “Let me make a fire. Cheers the place up.”
“Okay. I’ll wash the dishes.” She collected the empty ones and piled them in the sink. “Do you have...um...”
“Detergent? Maybe. Try under the sink?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed a dish. Takeout containers and paper plates were the norm and went into the trash. “I think there might be a pack of sponges down there too.” He walked into the living room, embarrassed again about the place he called home.
He got to work setting up kindling and lighting old newspapers. At least he could do this. The fire caught, grew, and threw shadows on the walls. He gathered some dirty clothes that lay on the couch and carried them into his bedroom. From the kitchen came the sound of running water and clanking dishes, and for just a moment, memory swept over him. Once, a long time ago, those same sounds had filled the house. He’d been a kid. And he’d been happy.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there in the dark.
“Dash?”
He jumped.
“Sorry. I was just looking for the bathroom.” He pointed across the hall. “Excuse the mess.”
She flipped on the light. “Please. I lived in a coed dorm at college. You haven’t seen a mess until you’re sharing a bathroom with a bunch of drunk frat brothers at three a.m.”
Dash tried to imagine that but couldn’t. Sienna Cruz dodging vomit and horny grabs from nineteen year-olds? No way. It was easier to picture her sitting next to Jason Kingsley in the front pew at church.
The fire had taken hold and transformed the living room into something almost cozy and habitable. He pulled up a chair, belly full, mind quiet. He sipped at his beer with no real rush to finish it. Even knowing that Al Halloran was back in town couldn’t dim his mood anymore. He thought again about Sienna sharing a dorm and bathroom with a bunch of teenage guys. Talk about hormones and emotion. He’d heard about college, the way everyone swapped partners and binge drank but still dragged themselves to class so they could graduate with honors that took them to places like Paris and London.
He and Sienna couldn’t have come from more different worlds if they’d tried.
“Hey, there.” She joined him in the living room and sat on the couch, kicked off her shoes and curled her feet beneath her. “This is nice.” She looked at the fieldstone fireplace. “That’s beautiful. Looks handmade.”
“Probably is.” He didn’t know. The house had been built long before him.
“How’s the gym? You get caught up after being closed for two days?”
“Pretty much.” He stretched and stuck one arm behind his head. Shadows played on the ceiling, illuminating the red and black dragon tattoo that began on his shoulder and twisted down to his elbow.
“Tell me