Untethered

3 | Greta

After the van was closed up, Emma headed back inside. She paused in the doorway.

That feeling again.

The sun was low, and there was a chilly breeze blowing through the large sugar maple, but that was not what sent an uneasy shiver slithering down her spine. She was sure she felt eyes on her, but as she glanced around, she couldn't see anything out of place.

Girl, you're losing it. Quit jumping at every little thing, she admonished herself, shrugging it off. Kicking her sandals onto the mat inside the door, she padded upstairs in her bare feet to grab a sweatshirt.

On her way to the kitchen, she saw the light on the ancient answering machine flashing; not even digital, she thought ruefully. She relied solely on her cell phone, but Grandma Edie had insisted on keeping the landline and the machine with the original message in her grandpa's voice. She pressed the "PLAY" button firmly, as it stuck more often than not, and opened the fridge, grimacing at the bare cavern staring back at her. Greta's warm voice filled the room, making her smile. It widened when she heard that she was invited over for dinner.

She looked out the window toward where Ryan's truck was still parked, and frowned slightly, debating the wisdom of seeing him again tonight. She was hungry... and there wasn't any food in the house that wouldn't take some preparation, not to mention serious imagination... Could one make a meal of olives, some questionable looking cheese, and maraschino cherries? Her stomach growled loudly, making her decision for her. She pulled the threadbare sweatshirt over her head, and slipped her sandals back on, before heading out the door and crossing the couple hundred yards it took to reach Greta's.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, I can put up with the arrogant ass for a couple hours without bloodshed... probably.

~*~*~

Layla greeted her at the door with a short, joyous bark. The aging golden retriever wiggled happily and snuffled at Emma's hand. Stooping to greet her, she smiled fondly.

"Hey, old girl. Where's your mama?"

She stood, making her way to the back of the house, and out to the deck with Layla wagging her tail and trotting on her heels. The older woman looked up when she heard the patio door slide open. Greta shot her a welcoming smile, making her bright Irish green eyes shine, and offered her cheek up as Emma bent down to kiss it.

Her flame colored hair was streaked with silver and twisted in a long braid down her back. She was a little taller than Emma with a thin, wiry body that was looking a little too thin these days, but she was still deceptively strong. Armed with a quick wit and a fiery temper, she had endeared herself to Emma at a young age.

"Glad you could make it, girl," Greta smiled.

"Thanks for inviting me! I really need to go food shopping; the fridge is looking a little sparse." the younger woman laughed wryly.

"No worries, I know how busy you've been. Besides, I could use the company. Layla doesn't talk much." Greta winked, then waving her hand, indicating the spread of fresh fruit and tea on the wrought iron table."Help yourself."

Emma poured herself some iced tea, and grabbed a handful of strawberries, before flopping into a deck chair across from Greta. Layla settled down, leaning against her chair. Ruffling her ears gently, Emma sipped her tea and glanced around.

"Just Layla to talk to? Isn't Ryan around? Or is he just not pleasant company?" Emma tried to hide her interest behind idle curiosity.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Greta laughed and waved her hand vaguely toward the house, "not that I can get him to sit down and have a decent conversation with his poor old Ma, mind you."