She walked into the kitchen and stopped.
A tarantula cat.
Both surprised and horrified, she snatched the broom she'd left leaning against the counter. It ignored her, focusing instead on scratching at a spot of dirt, one of its main food sources. She stared at it, as irritated by its unwitting acknowledgment of her housekeeping prowess as she was about having this of all creatures in her house. The kitchen table, like much of the rest of the house's furniture, had been disassembled in anticipation of moving before Evelyn's wedding. She tugged the top of the kitchen table to block the doorway, hoping it would keep the creature in the kitchen.
Suspecting it was a stowaway from one of the boxes, she took the broom upstairs, where most of the boxes were. She rifled gingerly through the boxes, afraid of uncovering a stash of tarantula cats. When she found none, she returned to the living room, where the rest of the boxes has been deposited, and searched them.
She found no more and returned to the kitchen. The tarantula cat was sucking up dirt and dust from the kitchen corners. She leaned the broom against the wall, unhappy to see the creature but feeling bad for it. It, too, was alone now, somewhere it didn't belong. At least she'd never have to worry about feeding it; the house was a mess.
She left the door blocked, took a quick shower, and opened the door to her studio.
Evelyn stood in the middle of the room.
Kiera gasped, drawing Evelyn's attention from the paintings to the door. Kiera stood dumbly, staring at her friend.
"Happy to see me?" Evelyn asked with a hesitant smile. She wore the alien clothing, though her stomach was starting to protrude.
Kiera closed the door to the studio slowly, uncertain what she felt. She couldn't let her sense of hope seize her for fear of being devastated. She didn't know why Evelyn was there. She wouldn't assume anything.
"I guess not," Evelyn said at her silence. "You don't look too well."
"I'm okay," she replied with effort. "I am happy to see you."
Evelyn frowned. Kiera felt the awkward silence but didn't know what to say. She'd lost the ability to feel anger-- or feel at all-- and just wondered what her friend wanted. To date, nothing Evelyn had done was for anyone else's benefit but Evelyn's, a realization she'd come to when she'd stopped crying a few days ago. She loved her friend but understood if Evelyn was there, it wasn't necessarily for her. Evelyn turned to the paintings she'd been perusing. "These are beautiful, Kiera. This might be some of your best work."