***
The incandescent pre-dawn hours of not-quite-night-not-yet morning had been Paige’s favorite part of the day for as long as she could recall. When her mother had been alive, the two of them had been in the habit of rising early to greet the day.
Layna would never have expected her six year old daughter to be up before the sun, but that’s just what happened; despite initial encouragement to go back to sleep for a little bit, Paige would rub the sleep from her wide brown eyes and help her mom begin breakfast.
Over the next few years, before death had stolen Layna away, Paige had enjoyed long, quiet pearl gray mornings puttering around the house with her mother. Not even Layna’s marriage to Denmari had been able to alter the tradition; in a way, Paige supposed that death had also failed to break their routine, since years later she still made it a point to race the sunrise to the finish line.
Most of the time, Paige accomplished nothing more substantial than drinking a glass of juice of sipping a cup of tea, on the front porch if the weather was good, her thin legs swinging back and forth against the faded wood deck while she chipped at the white paint on the porch swing.
Her mother would have chastised her for being destructive, had she still been alive to do so, Paige knew, watching a particularly large chunk of paint fall to the wooden deck floor. Denmari wasn’t likely to notice and even if he did, she seriously doubted that he would care enough to mention it to her.
Paige shrugged her bare shoulders and threw back the last of the chilled juice she’d snagged from the kitchen, frowning when the motion caused the spaghetti strap of her tank top to slide off her shoulder and down her arm.
“What are you doing out here? No, wait, what are you doing awake?”
“Oh, hi.” Paige turned at the sound of Hailey’s voice. “I always get up this early.”
“Seriously?” Hailey frowned and made a show of yawning and stretching her arms high above her head before swinging them behind her back and pushing her chest out in a move that would have caused Paige to blush had there been anyone else around to witness the blatant display of flesh.
“Is there any coffee?” She pleaded, grabbing the swing frame and leaning onto it. “Jeez, Paige, you need to have this thing painted.”
Paige shrugged and scooted away from her friend and the flurry of tiny paint chips the blonde had rained down when she had grabbed the swing. “Maybe.”
“Maybe there’s coffee.” Hailey’s eyes lit up.
“No, maybe I’ll paint this thing someday.” Paige quipped, knowing full well that it wouldn’t happen. “But there’s coffee in the kitchen.”
“Oh thank God.” Hailey gushed, but made no move to go back into the house.
“Come on,” Paige rose to her feet with a wry smile. “I’ll make you a pot of coffee.”
“You’re the best, Paige.”
“Right.” She snorted, leading the way into the still silent house and thoroughly convinced that she would never be ‘the best’ at anything.