Second Nature by Elizabeth Sharp Page B

folded
cloth napkin held by a silver napkin ring, each featuring a
different angel.
    Dylan offered me a chair before going to the
refrigerator and pulling out a glass pitcher of milk. He filled two
glasses and set one in front of me. I eyed it warily, and he gave
me a reassuring smile.
    “You said you trusted me.”
    Deciding to humor him, I took a tentative
sip. It tasted of rich milk fat, untainted by hormones or
chemicals. I flashed a grin at Dylan as the woman appeared with a
plate in each hand. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes with real
butter and maple syrup. It was the kind of breakfast I hadn’t
enjoyed since my mother’s death, and it brought tears to my eyes. I
sniffed it appreciatively and sighed in contentment.
    “If you think they smell good, wait until
you taste it!” Dylan gushed.
    I picked up my fork and dug in, savoring
each bite. I hadn’t tasted food this good since I had changed. Even
shopping organic, we lived in a mass production world where truly
fresh food was harder to come by than it seemed. I could hear the
clucking of chickens, and I imagined the woman had gathered the
eggs herself just before we arrived.
    Suddenly I dropped my fork, appalled at my
lack of manors. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and sprang to my
feet. Dylan froze with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth,
unsure what was wrong.
    “I apologize.” I turned to the woman, who
cocked her head at me. She wore a faded nightdress with a large
chambray shirt thrown over it and slipper socks. Her long grey hair
swept to the side in a loose braid, her deep blue eyes twinkled and
a kind smile lit up the room. “I swear Mom raised me better. I’m
Lia.” I held out my hand to shake.
    The woman smiled and grabbed my hand, but
only to tug me into a hug. “Nice to meet you, Lia. You can call me
Aunt May—everyone does. Now hurry up and eat before it gets
cold.”
    With a smile, I sat down and resumed eating.
Sighing and rolling my eyes in exaggerated enjoyment at each bite.
Aunt May smiled then turned and began fussing about the kitchen.
When my fork clattered onto my empty plate, and I sat back too
stuffed to think about food for a week, Aunt May turned to me with
a smile.
    “It’s high compliments to watch a Gaia clean
a plate.” She smiled and gave me a wink.
    I tried to help with the dishes, but she
wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, she shooed me out onto the back porch
where cane rockers lined the back of the house. The air smelled of
plants, animals and manure. It was heavenly. I didn’t know how much
the city tainted the earth until I stood on that porch, gazing at
the blue hazy mountains as a gentle breeze blew my copper hair. I
wrapped my white sweater around me and smiled, turning my face up
to the warm sun in pure contentment. I still had a lot of
questions, but for the moment, I allowed myself to just be here.
There would be time for questions later. I settled into one of the
rockers next to Dylan. He laced his fingers through mine, and we
sat in silence, rocking and watching the grass sway.

 

     
    I THINK I could have happily sat on the
porch forever. Dylan and I bantered playfully, just two people
basking in the peace and quiet. We avoided anything emotional or
important. Soon May joined us, taking the rocker to my right with a
basket of yarn. Silence fell for a moment, interrupted only by the
clicking of her needles.
    “So how do you two know each other?” I
asked.
    “Aunt May found me shortly after the
convenience store. She worked as a social worker back then,
focusing on getting Otherworlders into homes who are prepared for
them. One of the unique things about angels is no one can tell what
we are until we inherit our powers, and once we are detected, the
social workers generally leave us there since we tend to improve
the human’s lives.” He shrugged, though I can only imagine what
kind of horrible things he went through to assist others. “May’s
the one who explained to me what I was. She taught me