"Everyone has someone out there for them," Sheila says, and I can't help but choke back a laugh. "Oh, stop being such a grump, Flint," she scolds.
"Hey, I'm just a realist. I'm 55 years old, and I live a loner mountain man life working long ass days. I'm with Aldo here. It's not exactly easy."
"Well, it doesn't mean it won't happen, Mister Grump," she chides.
Nancy wanders over from the kitchen, placing a hand on her wife's shoulder.
"Is my bride harassing you about your love lives again?" she asks with a knowing smile.
Aldo nearly chokes on his food. "How did you know?"
"We've been together for over fifty years now. A wife knows," she says with a wink.
Sheila stands with a guilty smile. "Fine. Fine. So, are you two ready for the coming storm?"
I nod, chewing my sandwich and swallow before saying, "Yeah, but thanks for the reminder. I need to bring in more wood."
2
Petula
My sister Joelle and I step out of the church into the icy winter air. Aunt Betsy's friends and former colleagues shake our hands and express their condolences. We stay for the church's reception for just half an hour before leaving for the lawyer's office. Given that I'm only here another day, he agreed to meet with us after the funeral to go over Aunt Betsy's will.
Once in his office, he asks, "So you're returning to Vegas tomorrow?"
"Yes," I say, scrunching up my nose.
"Not a fan of Las Vegas?" he quips with a grin.
"I'm definitely getting over it, that's for sure."
Joelle gives me a side-eye, but the lawyer continues.
"Alright. So your Aunt Betsy left you both each a grimoire that she's been working on the last couple of years."
"Seriously? I had no idea," Joelle says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.
I look over at her as she dabs tears away from the corners of her eyes.
"But there's more. Joelle, you're going to get her rental property here in town, and Petula, your aunt left you her rental cabin on Ravenhart Mountain in California."
He runs through the logistics and has us sign a couple of papers. Once everything is done, my sister and I step back out into the freezing December air, clutching our new grimoires. I take a deep breath and blow it out, watching the steam curl from my mouth.
Sighing, I say, "Maybe I'll run away from Buddy and Vegas and go live up in the mountains."
Joelle loops her arm through mine as we make our way to her car. Once seated inside, she turns it on, blasting the heat, then looks at me with concern on her face.
"You know, that's like the fifth runaway joke you've made during this trip. Are you unhappy with Buddy in Vegas?"
Feeling my cheeks burn, I glance over at her but don't answer.
"I'm serious, Petula. Are you thinking about ending the engagement?"
"I don't know. I would feel awful if I did that."
"Well, you'd also feel awful if you married the wrong man," Joelle says, backing up.
"I'm not sure what I'll do, but it's getting harder and harder for me to picture a life with Buddy. Never mind a life in Vegas. I'm so tired of living there," I say, staring out at the Town of Sea Glass passing by in a blur.
