Work Text:
Agatha Harkness was dead set on murdering whoever was in charge of the Airbnb website. She’d been scrolling for the past forty-five minutes, trying to look like she was typing up some important document like the absolute professional she was, to no luck. Everywhere was booked up or ridiculously expensive. She put her hands to her temples and let out a long, loud sigh.
“Still no luck?” Jen asked, returning from her break with a takeout cup in each hand, another tucked in the crook of her elbow. She placed one cup on Agatha’s desk, moved briefly to their intern Alice and handed her one, then returned to her seat beside Agatha and took a sip from her own cup. She grimaced.
Agatha’s expression mimicked hers as she took a sip from her own drink. She expected the bitter, familiar taste of coffee; instead she was met with something that tasted like a vegetable. “God, Jen, you mixed the drinks up! What is this herbal crap?” She plonked the cup back down on the desk, reaching out to take her coffee from Jen instead. “And, to answer your question, no luck at all. Not an ounce of luck. Honestly, I’d have more luck throwing this stupid monitor out of the window.”
“Okay, we’re not gonna do that,” Jen said, taking the mouse and beginning to scroll through the options. She hovered the cursor over one rental. “This place is pretty nice. One bedroom, but you guys could share. It’s near the beach, and for that price, you’re getting a pretty great deal.”
“I saw that place twelve pages ago. The reviews are terrible - apparently $130 a night comes with the added luxury of a cockroach infestation,” Agatha replied. “It’s hopeless. Nicky’s gonna be so upset.”
“We’ll find something,” Jen told her, still browsing the site.
“With three days’ notice? It shouldn’t be legal to cancel this late,” Agatha complained. She’d been looking forward to the vacation just as much as her son, really - there’d been a little countdown on her work computer with the words ‘ California with Nicky’ above it for about a month now. She’d bought clothes, beach toys; she’d researched the best places to eat; she’d shown him photos of the attractions, beaches and the rental she’d chosen, wanting to get him excited. And now their whole plan had fallen through, because the lousy owner of the Airbnb had double-booked and chosen the other guest over Agatha and Nicholas. “I’ve looked at every hotel in the area I can find. It’s hopeless.“
They spent another ten minutes looking through the sight, recoiling at the prices of some of the quaint little rentals, until Agatha slammed her coffee cup down in exasperation.
“Maybe I should just pitch up a tent on the beach with him and call it camping. I’ll take anything I can get at this point, I don’t care if it’s in Santa Monica or West Africa,” she said.
“Ignoring the amount of laws that breaks, and the fact that you don’t own a tent, don’t you hate camping?” Jen countered.
Agatha made a sour face. “That’s a fair point. I don’t know how anyone in their right mind can call that a vacation, you know. Sleeping in a limp old tent, being surrounded by bugs and mud, trekking to the bathrooms at the dead of night in the freezing cold.”
“If there even are bathrooms,” Jen added, and Agatha made a noise of agreement.
She spent the rest of that evening scrolling through hotel websites, asking around online, barely looking up from her phone at dinner - much to her son's dismay.
“Mama?” Nicky asked, the sides of his mouth covered in pasta sauce. “Mommy, are you listening?”
“Of course, baby. You had your math test, then what?”
Nicky frowned. “No, no, I told that part ages ago! I’m telling you about lunch now. I played with Violet and Will, and then we got called in to eat.”
“Right, of course. Sorry, Nicky. How was your lunch? Did you eat all of it?” Agatha asked, putting her phone face-down on the table.
“We had pizza, remember? For the last day,” Nicky said.
“Right, of course! Last day before summer break. How was the pizza party?” Her phone buzzed, and she turned it back over. “Sorry, just let me check this.”
It was a text from Alice.
‘hii, did you manage to work out accommodation?”
Agatha furrowed her brow and typed out a reply.
‘Still no luck. Haven’t spoken to Nicholas yet’
‘i do have one suggestion. it involves civilisation AND bathrooms’
‘and great company’
‘Sounds ritzy. Go on.’
Before she could read Alice’s next reply, Nicky’s face was suddenly peeking over her phone. “Haven’t talked to me about what, Mama? What’s wrong?”
Agatha sighed, pressing the button on the side of her phone so the only thing Nicky could snoop at was her homescreen, a photo of them both making stupid faces with ice cream in their hands. “Nothing‘s wrong, hon. Just boring work stuff.” Her phone buzzed again. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and clean your face off? Then maybe I’ll think about making dessert.”
Nicky’s face lit up. Leaving his empty bowl and fork at the table, he ran to the bathroom.
“Don’t trip, hon!” Agatha called, then she looked back down at her phone.
‘you remember my friend, Rio? the one I introduced you to at that work party’
Agatha did remember. She’d met Rio at least ten times, in fact - being one of Alice’s closest friends and working in a different department at the company, she often tagged along when they went out to dinner or to the bar. Before she could type out a reply detailing this, Alice began to type again.
‘she’s on vacation next week. she stays on this farm/ranch type place in pennsylvania every year, it’s actually really pretty’
‘A farm?’
‘yeah? like with animals and plants and stuff’
Agatha scoffed.
‘No you idiot I know what a farm is. Rio vacations at a farm?’
‘yeah she loves it there. she goes alone for 2 or 3 weeks a year. she’s always asking if i wanna come along, i just spoke to her and she says she wouldn’t mind you and nicky staying with her, you guys could split the rent’
Agatha paused, then began to type.
‘I don’t know. A farm isn’t exactly Santa Monica’
‘but it’s still a vacation’
‘rio says it’s really peaceful. nicky would like it’
Agatha spent the rest of the evening deliberating, asking Alice endless questions about costs and travel and the general area. The idea of living on a ranch for two weeks was a far cry from Santa Monica, like she’d said, and she didn’t like the idea of being surrounded by that much manure at all. Her love for animals was limited - she tolerated cats, and snakes, and had a particular fondness for rabbits, but it ended there. Plus, this vacation was meant to be for her and Nicky. Agatha liked Rio, but she wasn’t sure if she liked her enough to spend two weeks living together.
But when she explained the Santa Monica dilemma to Nicky the next day, and raised the idea Alice had suggested, all bets were off.
“A farm, mama? Like at the petting zoo?”
“Bigger than that, Nicky. Like six petting zoos put together and built around a house. It’s technically a ranch, so there’d be even more animals than usual.” She paused, trying to backtrack. “But, you know, farms also mean mud and horse poop and noisy tractors.”
“I love tractors, mama!” Nicky said, though he’d never expressed even a remote interest in tractors before today.
“Staying on the farm would also mean sharing our rental with one of Alice’s friends.”
“Which friend, mama?” he asked.
“You haven’t met her before, Nicky. Her name is Rio,” Agatha told him.
He tilted his head. “Rio is a place in Brazil. We learned about it at school.”
“That’s true, sweetheart. But sometimes words or names can have two meanings, can’t they? Like how mama’s friend Jen shares a name with the blandest vegetable in the world,” she explained.
Nicky giggled. “I wanna go to the farm. Please?”
She tried to reason with him, to emphasise the cons in a way that outweighed the pros, but the six-year-old’s mind had been made up completely when he’d heard about the tractor.
And that was how, after two days of last-minute planning with Rio, Agatha found herself loading up the woman’s pickup truck with an abnormal amount of luggage. Rio - a woman wearing a black Metallica tee with the sleeves chopped off, her hair pinned up with a hundred little strands flying loose, a pair of sunglasses sliding down her nose and a wide, friendly grin - laughed at her, helping her load in Nicky’s red suitcase. Her arms were as enticing as the rest of her - toned, with a light tan. Dark hair peeked out from beneath them as she lifted her arms, standing on tiptoe, and Agatha stared determinedly at her shoes. When they were finished, she slid into the backseat beside Nicky, who was talking a mile a minute in his booster seat.
“You can ride shotgun if you prefer, you know,” Rio offered, moving the bags from the front passenger seat, but Agatha shook her head.
“I’ll keep Nicky company back here. You’ll thank me for it later - a four hour drive is enough to make any kid whine our ears off.”
“I’m not gonna whine!” Nicky said, in a voice that already sounded suspiciously petulant.
The first hour of the trip passed quickly, with Nicky alternating between playing on his tablet and asking Rio and Agatha countless questions about the ranch. Agatha let Rio answer most of them. Though the woman normally sported a sarcastic grin, she was surprisingly sweet with Nicky, answering each of his questions patiently without ever talking down to him. Agatha admired people like that. Her eyes kept drifting unexplainably to Rio’s face in the rearview mirror, her lips moving slowly as a smile danced upon them, her dark brown eyes that were framed by smoky eyeliner. Then suddenly, after a long-winded explanation about the difference between horses and ponies (which Nicky had listened to with great interest), the car halted to a stop outside a gas station.
“Okay, first rest stop. We aren’t stopping for another hour after this, so if you’re hungry or need to stretch your legs, now’s the time,” Rio said.
Agatha exited the car, then helped Nicky out of his booster seat as Rio filled up on gas. She led him into the small convenience store, letting him choose a few snacks to keep him quiet and taking him to use the bathroom once she’d paid.
“Is Rio a rock star, mama?” Nicky asked as they headed back to the car, their arms full of snacks.
Agatha laughed. “She works in graphic design, sweetie. She has got a pretty great t-shirt collection, though. Could’ve fooled me.”
They reached the car, where Rio was waiting with the window rolled down, the loose strands of her pinned-up hair blowing in the wind. She looked like some movie star Agatha would’ve crushed on in the 90s, she realised absent-mindedly as she moved to the other side of the car and helped Nicky strap himself in.
The trip continued, the roads winding ahead of them and leading them out of New Jersey. When she sensed Rio growing tired of driving, Agatha moved to the front and took her turn behind the wheel diligently. Meanwhile Rio took her place in the backseat, keeping Nicky company.
“Don’t crash, mommy,” Nicky mumbled, preoccupied by the game on his tablet.
Agatha scoffed. “Come on, when have I ever crashed the car?”
“Coming back from Aunt Lilia’s?”
“Come on, that was one time! And the car was barely scratched,” Agatha argued.
Rio quirked an eyebrow. “Should I be letting you behind the wheel?”
“It’s fine. It was years ago, and my windows were all fogged up.”
“I don’t know, Agatha. I’m not feeling so safe back here. What about you, Nicky?” she joked.
Nicky laughed along. “Mama’s dangerous .”
“Exactly. I mean, it’s not like I’m any better. I’ve just given a total reckless maniac complete control over my nice, un-scratched truck.”
“I guess you’re stuck with a couple of old psychos, Nicky,” Agatha said from the front seat with a grin.
Conversation continued to flow naturally between the three of them - though, a lot of the time, Agatha was content to listen as Rio and Nicky talked. It wasn’t long until Nicholas began to whine that he was hungry.
“I have granola bars in the glove compartment,” Rio said.
“I don’t want granola bars. I want a hot dog!” Nicky replied.
“I’m with him on that,” Rio added. “There’s a Sonic pretty close. My treat, if the boss allows it.”
“We’re eating at Sonic? Really?”
“I like Sonic,” Rio argued. “What’s wrong with Sonic?”
“It’s total crap, and I’m saying this as somebody who would happily live off corn dogs if I didn’t have the responsibility of being a role model. The quality’s terrible, the burgers are practically raw and Nicky always makes me spend a stupid amount of money on desserts,” she explained.
“You like the desserts, too!” Nicholas said.
“I tolerate the desserts, while lamenting on all of the other, superior places I could be eating instead of sitting in Sonic.”
Twenty minutes later, Agatha found herself sitting in a Sonic parking lot with a burger and fries in her lap. Lamenting was at the back of her mind; though the quality of the food was questionable, her attention kept floating back to the pretty, funny woman who was dipping her fries in her milkshake in the seat beside her.
“That’s a crime against humanity, you know?”
“You complain a lot. It’s delicious,” she said, putting a handful of fries into her mouth.
“It’s only delicious when you double-dip,” Agatha corrected, taking one of her fries and dipping it generously into Rio’s strawberry milkshake.
Rio laughed, dumbfounded. Nicky looked up from the toy that had come with his meal and giggled.
“Try to eat, hon. We’re gonna start driving again soon,” Agatha told him.
Nicky ate a few bites of his hot dog. “Can we see the animals right away when we get there? Can we see the goats first? Please, Rio?” he asked.
“Well, the lady who owns the ranch, Mrs Davis, will probably want to say hi and show us to the guesthouse first. Then we’ll go put our suitcases and bags down, and maybe have something to eat. Then I promise I’ll take you to meet the animals. Te lo juro,” Rio said.
Nicholas seemed to accept that answer. They finished eating, then Agatha continued the drive. The truck rolled over hills and down country lanes, until none of them had seen a McDonald’s or KFC for the last seventy miles. Finally they veered into the real countryside, where Nicky actually squealed when he saw a pen of horses outside the window. A few miles later came a sign that read “Azalea Ranch” in faded wooden lettering, wildflowers growing around where its base was planted in the ground.
Rio, who’d taken over driving once again, drove a little further through an open gate and parked on an unassuming patch of grass. Agatha got Nicky out of the car, helped everybody get their suitcases from the trunk, and finally took a real look at the farm. The August sun shone down on the grounds, making the grass appear dewy. A few small pens and enclosures were scattered around, mostly chickens and smaller animals - Agatha assumed the other animals were behind the house. Azaleas grew in lush green shrubs around the house and on each dormant patch of grass. The house itself was classically beautiful, a farmhouse-style manor with ivy trailing up its grey brick walls and huge arched windows reflecting sunlight.
“Looks English,” Agatha commented.
Much to her dismay, the grounds leading up to the house were vast and muddy from rain. The three of them trudged over, holding their suitcases and bags a few feet from the ground, and Rio quickly noticed Agatha’s grimace.
“Do you like it?” she asked, looking back at the house.
Agatha shrugged, smiling. “I prefer my vacations a little less… muddy.”
“You‘re prissy,” Rio grinned, accusatory.
“I am not prissy! I just- I have standards, you know,” Agatha said.
“Prissy standards. You’re wearing flats on the farm, like the stepmom from Parent Trap. I really hope you packed rain boots.”
“I like my flats!” Agatha protested, though she was regretting her wardrobe choices already. “You know, I really don’t think there’s anything prissy or uptight about wanting to stay somewhere that doesn’t reek of cow manure.”
“Priss,” Rio said, sticking her tongue out.
“Damn you.”
Nicky, who was chattering at a million miles an hour, tugged at Agatha’s sleeve and pointed to a bush that was dotted with small red fruits. “Mama, look, berries!”
“Uh-uh,” Rio said quickly. “Those are poisonous. You should never eat wild berries unless you’re sure they’re safe. While you’re still a kid, that means when an adult checks for you.” Nicky looked a little dejected. “How about tomorrow morning I take you over to the orchard and we pick some fruit there? That’d help the guys who run it a lot, you know, and maybe we could even sneak a few apples for ourselves.
He looked at Agatha. “Please, mom?”
“Of course. It’s your vacation, you can do what you want as long as Rio doesn’t mind taking you,” Agatha told him.
“I don’t mind. Somebody’s gotta make sure the kid doesn’t turn out to be as prissy as his mom.”
“I am not prissy!”
“Sure, priss.”
“Two weeks of this. What are we gonna do, Nicky? Sleep with the cows?”
***
“Well, aren’t you two a lovely sight?” Mrs Davis, a sweet, elderly woman in a straw hat and a pair of floral overalls, was grinning up at the two of them. “And what about your son, Agatha? Did he change his mind about staying?”
Nicky, who’d been trailing behind and talking to the chickens, came up behind them. “I’m here! The farm’s so pretty, Mrs Davis, I love it.”
Mrs Davis pretended to leap back in surprise at the sight of Nicky. “Oh, he did make it! It’s lovely to meet you, Nicky. You can call me Sharon.”
“Nice to meet you, Sharon,” he said back. “Can we go look at the animals again? Are there cows? Can we see the cows first?”
“Hey, you remember what you and Rio agreed. We’ll put our bags away first,” Agatha chided.
“Right, of course. Let me help you,” Sharon said, taking Nicky’s suitcase and one of Agatha’s. She led them out of the farmhouse and, to Agatha’s disdain, straight back onto the muddy pathway. For a short, elderly woman, she was surprisingly strong - unlike Agatha, she didn’t pause once until they reached the smaller guesthouse. “There’s a master bedroom and a single,” she explained, leading them through the bungalow. “There’s a small kitchen, too, but you’re more than welcome to join me for meals in the main house.” She led them into the kitchen, nonetheless.
“The backsplash is gorgeous,” Agatha said, looking at the dainty floral pattern on the tiles.
“Isn’t it just?” Sharon smiled. “My husband painted it himself when the guesthouse was first built. He wanted to rent it out.”
“Isn’t that what you do?” Agatha asked, her head tilting slightly.
“Only for Rio,” the woman replied brightly. “I’ve stocked the kitchen with all the essentials - a kettle, mugs and crockery, even some basic ingredients. How about some tea?”
“Tea would be great,” Rio replied.
Nicky groaned. “How much longer until we can see the animals?”
“Right, sorry, cariño. We’ll go now,” Rio said.
“You aren’t staying for tea?” Agatha asked.
Rio shrugged it off. “I promised Nicky. Back in twenty, okay?”
She slipped her sneakers on and helped Nicky change into his boots - a sight that gave Agatha a pang of affection she couldn’t quite explain. Then they were gone, sauntering away from the cottage until Nicky’s excited babbling became a quiet hum from outside the window. Strangely, Agatha didn’t feel the usual hesitance that came over her whenever she left Nicky with a babysitter. She knew Rio could handle him.
“So, how do you know Rio?” Mrs Davis asked, pouring two steaming cups of tea.
“We’re coworkers. Truthfully, we don’t know each other that well, but my original vacation plans with Nicky fell through and she saved my ass.” Sharon looked a little startled by the language. “Sorry, saved my behind .”
Sharon took a seat opposite Agatha at the table, handing her a mug. “Careful, it’s very hot, dear.” She blew on her own tea, then took a sip. “It’s so nice to see Rio making such wonderful friends. She’s always been a bit of a hermit, you know?”
“She has? She seems pretty popular at work. Quiet but, you know, popular.”
“Oh, that makes me so happy. She’s like a little butterfly, you know? Tell me, has she found a boyfriend back in New Jersey yet?” Sharon asked with a grin.
“Um, not that I know of,” Agatha replied.
“Her time will come, I’m sure. She’s such a pretty girl, isn’t she? It’s a miracle every boy in Westview isn’t fighting to win her over.”
“It’s criminal,” Agatha agreed, slipping seamlessly into the shoes of the character she needed to be to interact with this sweet old lady. “I mean, those cheekbones?”
“Honestly!” Sharon agreed. “I mean, you’re a looker yourself, sweetie. It feels like they’re filming one of those reality TV shows on my ranch!” She laughed at her own joke.
Agatha’s phone, which surprisingly still had a few bars of signal, buzzed and a text from Rio popped up.
‘nicky is asking to go to the orchard, is it okay if we’re gone for another 30 mins?’
Attached was a photo of Nicholas with a hen in his arms, his expression sunnier than ever. Agatha grinned and quickly typed out a reply.
‘That’s fine, have fun. Gossiping with Mrs Davis about you’
She put her phone down on the table, and returned her attention to the ranch’s owner. They chatted for another twenty minutes, then when they’d each drained a second cup of tea Sharon finally left.
Agatha began to unpack, stuffing her and Nicky’s neatly folded clothes into the dresser drawers and putting their toiletries in the bathroom cabinets. Before she knew it the cottage’s door opened, and Nicky came bounding into the house.
“Mama, mama, look! We found peppers and oranges and pears…” He stopped, out of breath, and set his basket down on the hall table.
“Baby, your knee,” Agatha said, noticing a little scrape below the hem of his shorts and crouching down in front of him. “What happened to your knee?”
Rio cut in, her voice reassuring. “He tripped and fell on a tree trunk. He’s okay, I checked him over. I even offered to head back to the house and get him a band-aid, but Nicky wanted to stay.”
Agatha sighed. “You have to keep an eye on him, Rio. He’s a little kid.” She turned back to Nicholas. “You’re sure it doesn’t sting?”
Nicky shook his head. “It’s okay, mama. You have to come see the animals tomorrow! There’s goats and pigs and cows and chickens and there’s even a horse! ”
“No way,” Agatha said, nodding along and mirroring her son’s excitement.
“You have to wash your hands, though. Rio says to always wash your hands after you touch the animals,” Nicky said.
“That’s a pretty good rule of thumb. What do you say to Rio for showing you around, hon?”
“Thank you!” Nicky said, flashing Rio a gummy smile.
“It’s my pleasure, tesoro,” Rio said, grinning back.
“Let’s give Rio a little rest now, okay? I need somebody to help me wash up these fruits and veggies.”
“I will!” Nicky said, removing his boots then letting Agatha hoist him onto the countertop beside the sink.
***
Evening came quickly, and after a dinner of warmed leftover shepherd’s pie they’d found in the fridge, Agatha gave Nicky a shower and helped him into his pyjamas. Then, in the small living area, she found Rio curled in an armchair with a book in her lap. She sat quietly on the couch, enjoying the peace - aside from Rio’s quiet breaths and the faded bleat of sheep in a pen behind the house, a blissful silence filled the ranch.
Rio spoke, and Agatha realised that the woman had not been looking at her book for a while, but rather at Agatha. “I’m really sorry I let Nicholas get hurt today.”
“Don’t be,” Agatha said. “He falls constantly. The kid would be lethal in a china shop.”
Rio laughed. “Will you really let me show you around tomorrow, or are you still upset you’re not on a spa retreat?”
“I’m not upset. I’m happy if Nicky’s happy,” Agatha shrugged.
She made a quiet noise of agreement. “But wouldn’t it be nice to be sprawled out on a lounger somewhere, the ocean lapping at your toes with not a whiff of cow manure for miles?”
“God, don’t tempt me,” Agatha said with a chuckle. “Seriously, though, this place seems okay. The guesthouse is very pretty, I’ll admit that, and Sharon’s nice.”
“You said you two were gossiping?”
“Yeah, yeah. She got a little sidetracked, grilled me about whether you were still single. I don’t think she realises just how little we know about each other,” Agatha said.
“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” Rio said, grinning like an idiot. “I found wine in the cabinet, you know.”
“Really? Maybe Sharon’s a dark horse herself,” Agatha joked. She headed over to the kitchen, rooted through the cabinets until she found the bottles Rio had mentioned, and poured them a glass each. She returned to the living area and saw that Rio had moved from the armchair to the small L-shaped sofa. Agatha sat down at the other end, so that she was facing Rio, and handed her one of the glasses.
“Okay, interrogation time. You can start,” Rio said.
“What?” Agatha asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Sharon already grilled you. Now, it’s your turn to grill me.”
“Okay. Um, let’s start easy. How do you and Mrs Davis know each other?” Agatha asked. She’d been silently wondering this, or some variation of it, since Alice first told her about the ranch - she’d never pegged Rio, a sleekly-dressed graphic designer with at least fifty CDs in her car, as the type of girl to lead an idyllic double life as a country bumpkin. Meeting Sharon, she’d begun to understand. The sweet older woman and her farm served as a gateway into a more blissful life, the life Rio took up when she vacationed here. Now the only question was why Rio was so close with a random Pennsylvania rancher.
Laughing, Rio began to explain. “Sharon and I go way back. I worked here as a farmhand when I was younger, when she ran the ranch with her husband Todd. They both wanted me to stay in touch. Then, about a year later, I had a bad breakup and I ended up moving into the guesthouse for a little while. It wasn’t technically a rentable place - it still isn’t now, like Sharon said earlier - but she was good to me and made an exception. Mr Davis had just died, and Sharon needed the company as badly as I did. We helped each other out, and I kind of fell in love with the farm. It was like a breath of fresh air, you know?”
Agatha nodded. She saw Rio waiting for the quip about the sweet, countryside smell of horse shit, but it didn’t come. Rio continued speaking.
“After I moved out, I kept coming back to visit - partly to make sure Sharon was okay, partly to make sure the animals wouldn’t forget me, partly because I just fucking love it here. I still come to stay at Christmas, and obviously during summer. I’d live here forever if I could, you know?”
Agatha thought of the photos Rio had sent her earlier of Nicky with the various animals, pointing excitedly at the farm’s Shetland pony or letting the goats lap up food from his hand. Her gaze returned to the woman before her, her frame drowning in the thin flannel shirt and shorts she wore as pyjamas, flecks of dim lamplight dancing on her face.
“I think I’m starting to see why,” Agatha said.
“You like it here!” Rio said, as brightly as Mrs Davis. “I knew you would.”
“You didn’t even know me until earlier today,” she countered.
“Of course I knew you! You’re Agatha. I’ve always thought you were cool.”
“Really? What’s my position at work?” Agatha asked.
“Um, important-business-manager-computer-lady?” Rio said. “I don’t know. Anyway, the second rule of the ranch is that you don’t have to think about work.”
Agatha smiled, taking another swig of wine. “What’s the first rule?”
“To always wash your hands. Really, Agatha, has Nicky taught you nothing?”
She laughed loudly. “You’re gonna turn my kid into a health and safety inspector.”
“Well, you clearly need the reminders,” Rio said.
They continued like that, curled lazily on the couch laughing and bickering and drinking, until sleepiness got the better of them both.
“You’re really sure you don’t mind me and Nicky taking the bigger bedroom?” Agatha asked for the sixth time as she peeled herself from the warm blanket she’d tucked her legs under, gathered the two wine glasses and placed them by the sink.
“I’m sure. I’m not making you cram into a single bed with him, Agatha,” Rio told her.
“Still, I could’ve taken the couch.”
“Please, you’re a priss. You need your perfectly-fluffed pillows and linen bedding for a good night’s sleep,” Rio teased.
“If you call me a priss one more time, I’m packing up and going home,” Agatha bit back playfully.
Rio snickered, then began to head towards the bathroom to brush her teeth. “Goodnight, Agatha.”
“Goodnight, Rio.”
Agatha poured herself a glass of water, brushed her teeth and washed her face once Rio was finished in the bathroom and finally headed to the main bedroom. She slid into bed next to her snoring son, whose pyjamas were patterned with small woodland animals. As she rolled over, turning over her pillows in an attempt to get comfortable, Rio’s smirk crossed her mind for the fiftieth time. Agatha dismissed the thought quickly, turned over one way and then the other, and fell asleep.