The kid Carys had been chasing, a scrawny ten-year-old named Tom, skidded to a halt in front of a brightly painted, two-story house. Wisteria vines climbed lovingly around the porch railings, and the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted from an open window.
"Here," Miguel panted, pointing at the house. "This is my house. My grandma loves having guests. Come on, I'll introduce you."
Before they could knock, the door creaked open, revealing a woman with kind eyes and a warm smile etched on her face. Her hair, streaked with silver, was pulled back in a loose bun, and her apron hinted at the delicious aroma wafting from the house.
"Tom, there you are!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern. "Who are your friends?"
Tom, regaining his usual confidence, puffed out his chest. "Grandma, this is Carys and Eris. I... well, I may have gotten them a little wet earlier."
Eris raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Just a little," she confirmed.
The woman's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry! Tom can be quite the handful sometimes. Come in! Let me grab some clean towels for you both."
Carys stepped forward. Eris, after a moment's hesitation, followed suit. As they entered the house, the scent of freshly baked cookies filled their senses, a comforting aroma that seemed to chase away the shadows of the day.
"Where are you girls staying?" Tom's Grandma asked, opening a cabinet and handing out dry towels to Carys and Eris, who took it graciously.
"Well, we haven't found a motel to check in yet, so either that or we sleep in my truck." Eris replied politely.
Grandma, whose name turned out to be Martha smiled apologetically. "Oh I'm afraid things might be a little tricky tonight. The fair has booked up all the rooms in town, motels and all."
Carys exchanged a worried glance with Eris. The prospect of sleeping in the truck again, cramped and uncomfortable, wasn't appealing. Martha, sensing their predicament, patted Carys's hand gently.
"But don't you worry, honey," she said, her voice warm. "You two are welcome to stay here for the night. I have a spare room with two comfy beds, perfect for weary travelers."
Carys's face lit up with relief, a silent question seeking confirmation in Eris's eyes. Eris, hesitant at first, couldn't help but be swayed by Martha's genuine kindness and the exhaustion etched on Carys's face.
"Are you sure?" Eris asked hesitantly. "We wouldn't want to impose."
Martha shook her head, her eyes twinkling. "Nonsense, dear. You're more than welcome. Besides, Tom here owes you an apology for his... overzealous game playing."
Tom, who had been hiding behind his grandmother's chair, peeked out sheepishly. "Sorry," he mumbled again.
Carys ruffled his hair gently. "Don't worry about it, Tom. We had fun too."
"Thank you so much, Martha," Carys said, her voice filled with gratitude. "We really appreciate it."
As they settled in for the night, Carys couldn't deny the strange turn their day had taken. From the playful water balloon fight to the unexpected invitation, the day had been a whirlwind of emotions. Yet, as she sat on Martha's porch swing, a warm cookie in her hand and the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background, a sense of peace settled over her. For the first time in days, she felt safe, not just physically, but also in the company of kind strangers who had opened their home and their hearts to them.
...
Dinner at Martha's table was a warm and lively affair. The aroma of roasted chicken and vegetables filled the small house, mingling with the lingering scent of cinnamon from the afternoon's cookies. Tom, emboldened by Martha's presence, had shed his initial shyness, regaling them with tales of his adventures and mischief.
YOU ARE READING
The Way To You - ENGLOT
Romance"Did this mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?" Carys Isobel Avington, the sheltered daughter of a wealthy family, finds herself in the clutches of kidnappers seeking a hefty ransom. Fueled by desperation, she manages to escape their c...
