❝there is something moon-soaked and dawn-flavored about her. something kissed by the wild and loved by lightning.❞ [nikita gill]
Aurora Mason had always thought her life wouldn't be anything special. The most interesting part of it was her grandmoth...
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FRIDAY EVENING FOUND AURORA SITTING IN HER BACKYARD, pushing Frankie on one of the swings of her old swing-set. Andrew's work schedule had been adjusted so that he wouldn't get off until six on Fridays, so Lettie had offered for Frankie to ride the bus to their house in lieu of Andrew having to find a babysitter. It was a slight change of routine for Rory, but she found that she actually enjoyed the little girl's company. Frankie was definitely a force to be reckoned with, yet so innocent at the same time. Rory found a strange comfort in being around the 5 year-old's childish innocence.
"Higher!" Frankie squealed through her laughter. "My tummy gets butterflies when I swing high!"
Rory laughed. "I bet it does, but I'm afraid pushing you any higher is a little dangerous," she said. Frankie sighed in disappointment, but smiled anyway. "Remember to kick your feet," Rory reminded her, noticing that the girl had stopped kicking her feet back and forth to gain momentum. "That's how people swing themselves when no one is pushing them."
"She's playing you like a fiddle," Andrew called out with a smirk as he appeared on the back porch, having stepped out of the sliding glass doors of the dining room. He'd just arrived from work and decided to go out back when he heard the girls laughing through the kitchen window. "Frankie knows how to swing herself, she just likes to have people do it for her."
"And here I was, trying to teach her something she already knows," Rory responded, amused at the peels of laughter leaving Frankie. She slowed the swing down so the girl could jump off, watching her run over to Andrew and wrap her arms around his waist. "How are things at the shop?"
"Ah, they're alright. Finished the struts on that old Chevy today." The man shrugged, hefting his daughter up into his arms. "Where's your mother?"
"On her way back from the grocery store. Frankie didn't want to go so I said I'd watch her," she answered. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
Andrew cast a curious look over his shoulder at the teenager as they entered the house, where Frankie rushed over to the fridge in search of a Capri Sun. "Sure."
"A friend of mine rebuilt two old dirt-bikes recently. They run great, but he doesn't want them anymore," she said. "Would you maybe want to buy them?"
"Your friend rebuilt them and doesn't want them?"
Rory sighed and leaned against the counter behind her. "Well, Bella salvaged them before her neighbors scrapped them and bought the parts for Jake to fix them up," she admitted. "But she's, uh... well, she crashed one and busted her head open, then wanted to get right back on. We banned her from using them... she's not really making healthy choices lately. I figured best option was to sell them so Jake could make some money off the work he did and Bella could get some cash back for the parts she bought."
"Bella Swan?" Andrew asked, then whistled lowly when Aurora nodded in confirmation. "I assume her old man doesn't know about the bikes? Charlie would shit himself if he knew."
