"Glad you guys could make it before dinner," she says wiping her hands on a white lace apron wrapped around her waist. "We need to get it now before it gets cold."
"Hush, Kimmy. We're getting reacquainted," her mother says.
"Seems like we can get acquainted at the dining room table just as easily as out here in the heat," she says not wasting any time walking back into the farmhouse.
It is a little hot. Especially since it's only May. We stopped wearing jackets in Pelican Bay, but that doesn't mean it's warm there. Anytime the snow melts off the ground and temps hit above fifty, people in Maine act like its summer, but I'm still freezing there.
Huxley leads us into the house and into a large room off the living room. A table big enough to seat twelve fills the space and his sister drop
