Grinning, Murphy jumped up from the bench.
* * *
With a bag of cider doughnuts between us in the center console and two hot cups of mulled cider in the cup holders, Murphy and I pulled up in front of my place.
I pressed the button to open my garage doors, which were now a faux wood. They matched the trim of the house, a single-story craftsman. It had been updated when I bought it, except for the attic, a large open space reached by a staircase off the kitchen that I’d made into a bedroom for Branson.
Now as I pulled my Jeep into the fairly neat garage, I wondered what Murphy would think of my home.
“I don’t know if I will ever get out of this car,” she said with a sigh. “It smells so good in here.”
“Don’t tell me you’re the apple-candle type of girl? They’re nice and all, but after a few hours, they really stink up a house.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about this subject.” Murphy pretended to be joking, but I detected a hint of jealousy in her question. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t like it.
“Brenna used to burn them when I was living at home. I’d run outside as fast as I could, if you must know.”
“Well, ifyoumust know, I haven’t been a girl in a long time. As for candles, back in New York I used to burn a white-lily scented candle. It was the signature scent from a boutique where my mom and I liked to shop.”
After shifting the car into park and turning off the engine, I ran my hand down Murphy’s cheek. “Well, we don’t need scented candles in Vermont. We open the windows and breathe in all the natural scents.”
“Is that so?” She leaned her cheek into my palm, seeking deeper contact.
“Fun time?”
She nodded.
“Sorry my mom wasn’t there.”
“After all your warnings?” Murphy’s head popped up, and she smirked.
“Still.”
“Hunnie said your mom used to curse my existence, so I’m definitely holding off on meeting her.”
“Don’t be silly. Besides, Marley will report every detail about meeting you at the farmers’ market. She may be more subtle in her tactics than my mom, but her gossiping is just as deadly.”
Murphy playfully growled at me, and my mind went other places than my mom.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, changing the subject.
Murphy jumped out and walked behind the car while I grabbed the snacks.
“Welcome to my place,” I said, opening the door to the house, juggling the cups and the bag and holding my keys in my mouth.
“Here, let me take something.” Murphy took the cups and bag, and I let her walk in front of me.
“Wow. This is so cool,” she said, wandering into the open kitchen that led to an open floor plan. Setting the food on the dark green granite island, she looked around wide-eyed. “Nice digs, Dr. Rooney. I’m impressed.”
“Brenna found it. One of the other doctors at the hospital owned it, and had to put it up for sale when he moved to Alaska to work in an underserved community. When Bren heard it was going on the market, she wouldn’t let it go. She dragged me here one night, telling me she needed to pick up something for Branson from one of his friends, and surprised me with the real estate agent waiting for us in the kitchen. Once she dragged me through the house, she pulled out the heavy artillery, insisting that I deserved it.”
Murphy smiled at me, tilting her head. “Aw, she sounds unbelievably committed to you. I mean in a family way, something I know nothing about.”
“She wants me to make a life. A real life.”
Murphy kicked off her now muddy boots by the door leading to the garage and hopped onto one of my kitchen stools. Peeking inside the bag, she plucked out a doughnut and took a bite. With a dusting of sugar on her lips, she looked relaxed and at home, like she belonged here in my kitchen. Seeing her like that gave me a twinge in my chest that I’d never experienced before.
“Looks like you have a pretty good life,” she said after chewing a big mouthful. “Mmm, these are good. Have one.”
