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glistening in the early morning sunlight. She had to admit, Haven’s Point was postcard quality. If she wanted to design a beautiful place to be, right outside her window was it.
    But, like the mess of her life, she knew that all the flaws of this town were hidden beneath the beauty of the snow. And there had to be flaws. Nothing was perfect. Not her life; not this town; not Zach. Well, maybe almost. His kiss, and the way he made love, inspired her to greater heights. And sexually, she'd reached the pinnacle. More than once, apparently. It was strange that they seemed to pick up where they’d left off so many years ago. Or maybe it was just the magic of the night.
    Zach was familiar, yet different. And thoughts of exploring those differences were exciting. Being with Zach added a new and sensuous dimension to her life that she hadn’t realized was missing. And it just showed how much her relationship with Warren was lacking. Good sex, for one.
    One of the cats emitted a deep mee-oowing, almost a growling sound. Then it hit her. The damn cats were hungry. Of course! She tossed a handful of dry food in each kitty-face bowl, one blue, the other pink.
    "You two are pretty darn lucky. You were loved by Aunt Addie. You were saved by Zach with a little help from George. Clanging on the cat food can was genius. And now, I’m going to find you a special home. Then everything will be just ducky. Or cat-tastic. Sorry, couldn’t resist."  She laughed at herself, talking out loud to the cats.
    Harry and Sally sat beside their bowls, not eating, and stared at her. 'We are not amused,' they seemed to say.
    "Go ahead. Eat! I won’t watch. You cats are so cattitudinal." Siena walked around the apartment. It was as if Aunt Addie expected her. The pantry was stocked to the gills with plenty of spices, tea, and locally canned fruits and vegetables, probably gifts from her friends. There were little notes on how to feed Harry and Sally and where to adjust the thermostat.
    Propped on a shelf was the recipe for her famous Wild Blueberry Crunch with its secret ingredient, finely chopped jalapeño peppers. The note said: "For my Lacy Ladies, every Wednesday." 
    "Wednesday? Today?" Siena muttered aloud. "Ha! That isn’t going to happen." She fixed herself a cup of Irish Breakfast Tea and noticed the cats were finally nibbling their food.
    Until last night, Zach had just been a memory, a fantasy frozen in time. At first sight, it all came flashing back - the tingles, the chills, the rush. Over the years, she’d experienced fickle friends, deceitful fiancés, job politics and struggling to find herself – again and again. Maybe it was time for some fun with an old boyfriend. And when she left town, she’d kiss him on both cheeks, pat his sweet butt, thank him for a good time, and bid him farewell again.
    Oh yes, she could have her own good time and leave this place easily. Siena took a quick shower and while still wrapped in a towel, she heard noises downstairs in the shop. Immediately, Harry and Sally took off on quick cat feet. Siena threw on a pair of black leggings and her favorite long, loose sweater with a moose-face and huge antlers on the front before bounding downstairs.
    There were three cheerful ladies futzing around as if they owned the place. One large-chested woman stepped forward. "Welcome to our sad little world Dana, you probably don't remember me, but – "
    "I'm not Dana. I'm Siena. Dana's daughter."
    Siena was caught up in a bear hug, crushed against the woman's bosom. "Ahh, Siena, all grown up. Glory be, we're glad to see you. I’m Claire Fairchild. Addie and I were dear, dear friends. She was like my sister I never had. We are so sad to lose her. She and I were rebel-leaders in town." She patted the French twist of her red-from-a-bottle hair. "And damn proud of it, too." Her Irish brogue blended nicely with a broad-voweled Maine dialect.
    The next woman clasped Siena’s hand warmly. "My, you’ve grown up beautifully,