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Great-niece duties... (Part 1)

Delaney arrived just before noon, armed with a tote bag full of cleaning supplies and the kind of determined energy that made grown men back away slowly. Her boots thudded lightly against the steps of Olivia’s brownstone, and she didn’t bother knocking, just let herself in like always.

“Aunt O?” she called, pushing the door open and teasing, “It smells like ghosts in here. You alive?”

“In here,” came the reply, thin but amused, from the back room.

Delaney smirked affectionately and stepped inside, slipping out of her boots and coat in one practiced motion. The house looked exactly as she left it last time. Book stacks leaning against every surface like drunken guests, curtains only half-drawn, and the faint trace of rosewater clinging to the air. Olivia Streun was nothing if not consistent.

Delaney found her great-aunt perched at the edge of a high-backed chair, still in her robe, sipping lukewarm tea and pretending she hadn’t been napping.

“You look like you fought the Great Depression and lost,” Delaney said, setting her bag down with a soft thud.

“I was reading,” Olivia offered dryly, lifting her chin with the quiet elegance only age and a lifetime of pride could lend. “The nap was incidental.”

Delaney snorted, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “Sure it was. Alright, move it, lady. We’re opening windows before one of your plants commits photosynthetic suicide.”

Olivia didn’t argue. She never did with Delaney. There was something about her -part bite, part breeze- that made the house feel more awake just by entering it. Delaney cracked open the windows, letting in a rush of chilly air and distant car horns. The city’s hum swept into the room like a living thing.

Delaney worked methodically: airing out the linens, vacuuming around the radiators, and wiping down shelves. Olivia tracked her movements with a bemused expression, sipping her tea slowly.

Part 2