The girls

The two women wheeled their oversized luggage up the walk to Emma’s family home as the boys drove away. Grace trailed ten paces behind, head down, still thumbing her phone. She hummed a few vague non-responses to whatever Emma was saying.

The front door swung wide open before the doorbell was even pressed. Emma’s father stood in the doorway looking more clean-shaven and professional in his pressed business suit, trench coat, and scarf than she had ever seen him. He double-checked his watch, then grinned at his daughter. He hugged her tight to his chest. “Good to see you, sweetie. I need to get to work straight away, but I wanted to get a look at you before taking off.” William regarded Grace as he spoke. He squinted critically at her anti-social aura, indifferent posture, and gum chewing. “And this is?” He let go of Emma and approached the brunette.

“That’s Grace…”

Grace gasped as she was rudely awakened from the world inside her phone by a man’s hand on her ass.

“Nice to meet you, Grace. Enjoy your stay and achieve your potential.” Then he wrapped his scarf around his neck and strutted down the driveway, swinging his briefcase jauntily.

She was stunned by the stranger’s words, his peculiar tone, and the overly friendly pats on her booty. “WHAT—THE—FUCK?” Grace mouthed, wide-eyed to Emma, smoothing the back of her tight skirt self-consciously. Her face flushed from the unexpected attention, not that she hated it.

Emma shook her head in slow motion. “I don’t know… That was weird. Sorry, he’s not normally like that.” She watched her father turn on the lane toward main street before she thought to wonder where the family car was.

“Don’t just stand there! Come in! Come in!” Emma’s mother urged. She had been patiently standing in the foyer the whole time. If she noticed her husband’s dalliance, she seemed unconcerned by it. Emma brightened when she noticed Susan’s floury apron and smelled freshly baked ginger cookies. After some hugs and introductions, Emma noticed something else. “Uh, mom… you have some frosting on your face.”

Susan stifled a laugh and wiped a white streak from her cheek with her index finger and sucked it clean. “Oops! So I did. Anyway, ladies, let’s get you situated. Are you sure you want to share Emma’s old bed?”

“It will be fine,” Emma assured. “Why is dad going to work so late? And so dressed up?” Now that she thought about it, her mother was dressed pretty well under the apron.

Susan lead the way to the bedroom. “Well, he works the second shift, like a lot of people in town… at Avalon. It’s a good company to work for.” She answered like she was just realizing some people might be unfamiliar with the new employer in town. She opened the bedroom door. “I’m sorry it doesn’t look like it used to. We moved some things around. The closet is full, but the dresser is still useful.” An oven buzzer alerted Susan that the next batch of cookies was ready and she excused herself.

“Cute,” Grace said, taking in the quaint room, then tossed her suitcase on the quilted bedcover, claiming the side of the bed with a nightstand. She pulled her phone charger out, then stared at the wall’s power outlet. “What’s with that thing?”

“Not a clue,” Emma admitted.

Grace crouched to plug in her charger. On the floor, plugged into the wall was a chunky, white device the size of a breadbox. There was a power button next to an Avalon logo. She pushed it.