Don’t Poke the Luna Chapter 213

Xena’s POV

Ryder parked the car a short distance away so I could see the entire house and take it all in. It looked like it had weathered years of storms and neglect.

My heart started pounding as we approached. A white screen door stood in front of the wooden front door. As I got out of the car and started walking toward it, I noticed brushes and various tools scattered on one side of the porch.

The bushes had been trimmed back, and fresh flowers were planted in the flower beds. No doubt Penelope had been out here working in the midday sun. There was even a decent-sized tree with a small baby swing hanging from one of its branches. The swing was stained from accumulated rainwater and years of neglect, but knowing my mother had hung it there for Logan and me to use someday felt heartwarming.

Logan and Penelope didn't speak, just watched as I wandered around, observing everything carefully. Trash bags were filled with scraped paint and cobweb-covered rags, and there was a distinct smell of bleach in the air. Next to the trash bags were moldy cushions. Looking at the porch, they must have replaced the moldy ones with new ones. What caught my attention was that Penelope had chosen fabric almost identical to what my mother had originally selected.

Penelope's thoughtfulness made me feel both grateful and sad. She was trying to maintain my mother's taste, to keep the feeling of this place intact. This attention to detail showed she truly wanted to honor my mother's memory rather than simply remodeling according to her own preferences.

If I had any tears left to cry, I probably would have broken down right there. Instead, I was mechanically processing these emotions.

As I climbed the steps, Logan opened the front door for me. Penelope had already gone inside and was standing in the living room.

To my left was a closet, with the wall extending past where a TV hung mounted on the wall. The living room opened up to my right. It was a fairly spacious living room with two dark gray sofas positioned opposite each other, and two matching black recliners directly facing the television. A glass coffee table sat between the sofas. A gray and white rug was spread between the two sofas but didn't extend to the recliners. The hardwood floors looked original, with narrow planks.

Everything showed signs of use but was still in good condition. My first impression was warmth. This was the kind of house where you could walk in and put your feet up on the couch without worrying about anyone getting upset. Pictures hung on the walls. I recognized my mother's parents from other photos Dad had shown us. Since Mom was an only child, I assumed those older baby pictures were of her. Photos in gold frames sat on the mantelpiece, which I guessed were of Mom growing up. One was of her at about nine months old, then one of her around five or six years old. Next was her high school prom photo, and finally one of her and Dad with her pregnant belly. They looked so in love.

"I kept everything exactly as I found it. I wanted you to see it before we make any changes," Penelope said, pulling my attention away from the photos.

"If there's anything you want to take with you, just tell me," Logan said, walking up beside me. He picked up the photo I'd been looking at and held it in his hands. "I won't throw anything away, but I'll put it somewhere safe."

"You're right. This is exactly how I imagined it would be," I said softly, looking around. The longer I looked, the more details I noticed. The white ceiling fan had gold trim designs. The curtains were pure white sheer material covering wooden blinds. Even the faded white paint on the walls desperately needed a fresh coat.

"The kitchen's this way, and there's a small bathroom down the hall," Penelope said, emerging from the kitchen. The doorway was wider than a traditional doorway but still just a doorway. The kitchen had an L-shaped layout with cabinets lined along the left wall, right after another doorway leading to the hallway. A large island sat in the middle with three bar stools, and a small table was positioned against the right wall.

I could see and smell the wood restorer Penelope had used to clean the light oak cabinets. The gold handles gleamed. Even the floral wallpaper covering the kitchen, though faded, had been cleaned. The hardwood floors extended into the kitchen and, from what I could see, continued down the hallway. More photos of Mom and Dad or our grandparents hung on the walls. There was one photo with many people that I wasn't sure who they all were.

"That's Mom's family," Logan said, walking up beside me. "Dad told me who everyone was. Not sure I'll remember, but he said it was written on the back. There's Mom." Logan started pointing people out. "That's her parents and siblings."

"There's about twelve..." I counted, saying.

"Yeah, Grandma had eleven brothers and sisters. The women all left with their mates. Penelope's been trying to track them down to see if we have any other family out there."

"Dad doesn't know?" I looked at Logan. Eleven siblings? I was internally shocked beyond words. This meant we might have a bunch of distant relatives scattered somewhere, and we knew nothing about it.

"He's not too sure. It wasn't a priority for him at the time, and when things got bad, he had to close this place off to keep it safe."

I could only nod in understanding. Things must have gotten really bad for Dad to feel the need to protect this place. My chest suddenly tightened—what exactly had he gone through?

The front door opened, and Leonard walked in. The moment his eyes locked on mine, I rushed toward him and hugged him tightly. He hugged me back, wrapping both arms around me firmly.

Seeing Leonard made all my suppressed emotions pour out like a flood. In that moment, I realized how much I'd missed him, missed our friend group, missed eating pizza at the pizza place, missed going to clubs. Those simple, happy times now seemed so precious, so unreachable.

"Hey, Xena," Leonard smiled as he released me.

"It's been so long since I've seen you," I tried to give him a smile.

"I know. You've been... busy," Leonard said, reaching out to pull Viola to his side.

"Viola, it's good to see you," I immediately felt guilty for hugging Leonard so impulsively.

Damn, how could I be so thoughtless? I knew it was hard for her to accept Leonard, and seeing him hug another girl couldn't be easy, especially someone like me whom she'd only met twice. I should have been more considerate of her feelings. This realization made the emotions in my heart settle slightly—at least I could still recognize my own recklessness.

"I'm doing well. I really like it here, and Leonard and I have really come a long way in this short time," Viola looked up at Leonard. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said after a moment, then looked back at me.

After a brief silence, Penelope spoke up: "Would you like to continue the tour?"

Ryder just stood in the corner with his hands in his pockets, quietly letting me process everything. Leonard walked over to Ryder and shook his hand while I followed Penelope down the hallway.

He was always like this, giving me space to handle emotions. But sometimes I really wished he would be more proactive, at least tell me what he was thinking. I was such a contradictory person, always at odds with myself.

"That's the bathroom," Penelope said, turning on the light. It was right behind the kitchen wall. It was a basic bathroom, also with hardwood floors. The vanity was light blue with a white countertop and blue sink. The toilet was light blue, and so was the bathtub. She had decorated it with a water theme, with shells and seahorse patterns on the shower curtain.

"This is the master bedroom with an ensuite, and here are the stairs," Penelope said. Next to the bathroom was a door. When she opened it, it revealed a huge bedroom. There was a four-poster bed with white lace hanging down. The bed was made with a white comforter, and there were probably a dozen pillows in front, all hand-sewn.

Looking at this bedroom, my emotions became complicated. This should have been my parents' room, where they had rested, talked, and maybe planned our future. Now everything was covered with a layer of dust, quietly waiting for owners who would never come.

I picked up one of the pillows and smelled it. It didn't have any scent. "Do you want to keep that?" Logan asked.