She looked up at the house they'd moved into. A leased property owned by Declan Mackenzie, the son of the late widow, Mabel Mackenzie. Lavender Cottage, the locals called it. With its walls painted a barnyard red, despite its name. All white trim and shutters, sitting high on the island's south point, poised between water and stone.

The raised deck gave way to a wild tangle of flower beds and a stretch of vegetable garden she'd taken great care and pride to plant last year. While it wasn't hers in name, the home was hers in spirit. In heart. And her hopes were once Out of Focus earned enough she could take her offer to Declan so that Lavender Cottage could be hers in entirety. 

Finished her coffee, Eva returned to find Lottie on the porch rocking away on in a faded red chair. Eva slipped on her shades against the glare of rising sun and strode towards the veranda at the back of the house to join her.

"Morning." Eva swooped in to plant a kiss against a powder soft cheek. Grey curls, just about every shade possible and soft as fine mink, were cut into a short wedge. From what she could see, there wasn't much of Jenelle in her, Eva mused. But they shared the same laugh. A rich, bawdy sort that brought a room to stitches every time.

"You've been at yourself again." Lottie glanced up from a narrow face tucked behind round spectacles and brushed a hand over Eva's freshly shorn hair.  "Looks like you tangled with a lawnmower and lost."

"Yeah." Eva plopped into the wicker seat next to her, boosted her feet onto the paint-chipped rail. "But you should see the mower. Got my licks in, too."

Lottie chuckled at that, toying with water blue stones draped at her ears and throat. She had the wide hips of a woman who'd birthed seven children, but the toned discipline of one who knew the importance of keeping fit and healthy. Eva could only hope that she'd look half as good at her age.

"I brought some of my chowder with me for the girls." Lottie rocked gently. "There should be enough left over for you to enjoy for dinner when you get back."

"Great. Now I'll be daydreaming about your soup while I'm stuck at the gallery."

"Planning a long one, today?" she asked when Eva grumbled wearily.

"Not too late, promise. I know you've got the committee to worry about."

"I can manage from here, just fine," Lottie dismissed, patting her arm. "I brought my laptop with me, in case. And besides, the Bartelli's don't arrive until Thursday. Plenty of time to roll out the Welcome Wagon." Blue eyes, quiet and steady as a mountain stream, returned to Eva. "I remember when you and your girls first showed up on Haven. Such a quiet, skinny and reclusive little thing you were. Jumped at every noise. So...unsettled."

Eva squirmed, the cushion padding suddenly hot as the sunbaked rocks along the bluffs. She would always remember that day, too. She hadn't expected the likes of Lottie Davies, head of Haven's Welcome Wagon Committee, a woman who had hammered and chiselled until Eva had no choice but to let her in. She was every bit as stubborn as her headstrong daughter, Jenelle. And just as observant as her eldest son, Ethan, the head of Haven's police department. 

"You rolled in like you'd weathered a hurricane. I always wondered what brought you here, to us."

"Change of scenery," Eva said. The same answer she gave time and time again.

"I've never asked. I've never pried."

Eva softened, all defensive instincts calming. "I know."

"And I won't," Lottie assured, gripping Eva's hand firmly. "Just promise me something? That should you ever feel the need...remember that I'm here? That I love you?"

Dammit, Eva cautioned, you're not going to cry. "I will." And before emotion gave way to weakness, she decided now was a good time to leave. Saying a quick goodbye, and another quick kiss on the way, she rounded the house to get into her car. A battered little hatchback she'd purchased second-hand off island. On her front walk were the boxes waiting to be loaded into the car; supplies she'd purchased on the mainland and needed to be brought to the gallery stockroom.

As she backed out of the trunk, Eva glanced up in time to see Kevin, her neighbour, loping up the steep drive. Sweat vee'd down the front of his white t-shirt that clung to a doughy torso, glistened on his brow and neck.

"Please, keep going. Please, keep going," Eva sang below her breath then muttered, "Great," when he caught sight of her and changed his course.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Kevin." She attempted a thin smile. The strain of the forced gesture tightened the muscles of her face.

"So, I was thinking," the back of his thumbnail skimming across his nose while beads of sweat dripped from his chin, "there's a new restaurant opening up on the mainland. Italian."

"Don't think so." Turning from him, Eva jingled her keys as she reached for the car door. He skipped around her, cutting her off.

"At least let a guy ask the question before you refuse him," Kevin laughed, threading fingers through damp hair cut short to hide the fact he was balding.

"Kevin." Adjusting her tone to firm but friendly, Eva squared off with him, elbow propped on the hood of her vehicle. "We've been neighbours now, what? Going on a year?"

He pursed his lips, shrugged. "Bit longer then that, but sure."

"And you've asked me out at least two dozen times?"

His smile flashed again in an altogether not unpleasant face dominated by a long nose and heavy lidded eyes. He had at least ten years on her, but made up for it with morning runs to burn off the onset of middle-aged paunch. "More."

"Can you please stop?"

"Eva." He moved to touch her shoulder but she evaded by shrugging his hand away. "Can't you just give me a chance? What's a guy got to do?"

"We're neighbours, Kevin. Your kids play with my girls. I've told you already, I don't want to get mixed up with anyone on the island. I live here. I work here. I don't need or want complications."

Kevin scuffed a sneakered toe along the coarse gritty asphalt, pausing to mop up his face with the hem of his shirt. "So, I guess the solutions simple then, eh? I move off island and you're fair game. Kidding, kidding." He raised his hands with laughter when he saw the roll of her eyes.

"You're a tough nut, but it's a good thing I don't bruise easy. Have a good one." He pushed back into a jog, tossed a wave over his shoulder. "Some day I'll wear you down, Ms. Turner. Someday."

Eva palmed her keys, took a deep breath, than slipped into her car. Glancing up at the review mirror, she frowned at the spiked mess of her hair.

Should've shaved my head bald, she thought, and pushed into drive.

Eva rolled into Out of Focus a full hour before opening, arms overburdened and mood stretched as thin as a razor. Another downside to island living? Island driving. The slow rolling, meandering sort of urgency grated her city girl nerves until she yearned for the congestion of exhaust and highway traffic.

"Good morning." Jenelle rose from the stool behind the counter, stretched arms and back. "Oooh good, you brought coffee."

"And croissants. Freshly baked from that new patisserie." Eva set the goods down on the counter. Removed her shades to assess her closest and dearest friend on Haven. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Jenelle kept her face glued to the screen but flickered a quick glance towards Eva.

"You get asked out a lot, right?"

Jenelle snorted a giggle, the kind of sound that should have been awkward and ugly if it had been uttered by a being less...enthralling. "Understatement. Now that its tourist season, I'll have to drag out the stick to beat them off. Why?"

Eva set her arms to the polished stone, sighed. "Kevin."

"Ah. Poor love-struck Kevin. Panting at your heels again?"

"I can't get him to back off."

"What's wrong with Kev? He's a total sweetheart and some serious work in the gym has upped his sex-factor exponentially. More then a few of the ladies on the island are starting to take notice. You should give him a chance."

"Jen." At a loss, Eva hung her head.

"Alright, alright. So, no interest at all? Not even a little? Or is this just your stupidly rigid 'no-men-from-the-island' rule impeding things?"

Eva opened her mouth to speak, thought carefully before answering. "He's attractive in his own way, I suppose. And he's obviously a terrific dad to Peter and Tracy," she added, referring to his two kids, both closest in age to her eldest daughter, Hailey. "But, no. I'm not interested. No spark. No fizzle. I get more of a buzz from Mr. Rogers."

Jenelle snorted again at that. "Oh dear. That's not good."

"I figured eventually he'd give up, move on. But it's been six months. And I swear, if this continues I'll probably move just to avoid the grief."

"Yeah, right. Like you'd give up that spot. And the view." Jenelle winked then drew silent, contemplating Eva's present dire circumstances. "Well, not much you can do that you haven't done already. But if you really want him to get the message, then maybe you need to start dating."

Eva slanted a glare at Jenelle. "I fail to see how that would solve anything."

"He can't pursue you if you're taken."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Kinda hard to manage if I won't get involved with anyone local, don't you think?"

Jenelle shrugged an absent shoulder, blowing into her coffee, heavily laced with sugar, cream and caramel. "That's your problem."