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Myra Binks had lived in the Outer Banks her whole life. Kildare was her home. Even if she'd been gone for two years. A lot had happened, she figured. Although she had no idea how much. As she stood outside the home of Topper Thornton, she wondered.
Wondered for all of two seconds, before Topper was running out of his house, skipping three steps as he jumped off the porch and ran over to her. "Binky!" he exclaimed, picking her up into a spinning hug, causing her to drop her duffle bag.
Luckily, nothing fragile was inside. "Lil' Top!" she exclaimed back, laughing as she hugged him back. He huffed, putting her down.
"I told you to stop calling me that. I'm not little," he said, crossing his arms.
"And I told you to stop calling me Binky. Here we are."
He rolled his eyes playfully, shoving her shoulder. "Whatever, I'll help you get your stuff."
Myra laughed, opening her trunk so her and Top could get her few boxes. She didn't bring much from Portland. Mostly keepsakes and her clothes.
They carried the boxes inside, and Topper showed her to her new room. His mom was out on a vacation right now, but she knew. She wasn't the happiest, but Myra was a respected Kook, so she hadn't minded too much.
Well, that's what she was told anyway. Who knows how far Topper stretched the truth.
Her room was good sized. Smaller than her one with her grandfather, but good enough. Myra wasn't picky. "You didn't tell anyone I was coming, right?" she asked Top after they had put her boxes down in her room.
Top shook his head. "Nope, not a soul."
She had a feeling he was lying, but for the moment chose to believe him. "Perfect, I'mma go see Jombie and them," she told him.
Topper huffed. "So you hate me."
Myra chuckled. "No, but I'm gonna be living with you, so I'll see you all the time."
He shrugged. "Fair point, I suppose."
She smiled, before heading back downstairs and outside. Kildare was much, much warmer than Portland. Dryer too. Although, she had a feeling that wouldn't last. It never seemed to around here. Storms were as popular as the fish.
As she drove the familiar roads, she couldn't help but feel the happiest she's felt since she left. Since that night. Deep down, her thoughts shifted to Rafe, but she tried to ignore it. She couldn't get caught up in old habits.
Rafe had moved on—or so she hoped. And so had she—or so she lied.
As she pulled down the road to the Chateau, her heart almost stopped. There it was, ashes on the ground. She jumped out of her car, running up to the burned down building. "What the hell?" she mumbled to herself.
Her first thought was that John B was dead. She had no idea why that was her first thought, but it was. Her second thought? To call the police. Maybe this had just happened. Logically, she knew it didn't. It was clearly old, and someone would have told her if John B was dead.
Right?
She pulled out her phone, calling the non-emergent number. At least she was smart enough not to call 911.
"Kildare Police Department, this is Peterkin."
"Is John B dead?" The words shot out of Myra's mouth. No hello. No explanation. Just panic.
Rationally—well, there was no rationality. Just panic. Maybe it was the jet-lag.
"Who is this?" Peterkin asked.
"Myra. Myra Binks. Is John B dead?"
"Myra? The hell are you doing back in town? And no, not as far as I know," she replied.
"Just moved back, and why is his house burned?" Myra replied.
"Electrical fire."
"Okay, 'bye."
Before Peterkin got the chance to reply, Myra was hanging the phone up, shoving it in her pocket, and mumbling, "Ya think someone would've told me."
She huffed, getting back in her car. Her next stop was the Heyward's. Middle of the island, not out of her way at all. She didn't care, though. She wanted to see her friends.
When she got there, Bobby had informed her that Pope moved out. To JJ's specifically. Myra thought he was joking and laughed in his face. Bobby didn't find it funny. She was in disbelief that Bobby and Barbara would let Pope move in with JJ.
Bobby said they didn't really have a choice since he was nineteen. After discussing the fact that Luke Maybank skipped town and Ward Cameron—of all people—bought the Maybank property(boy, did she have things to catch up on), she was off to the Maybank's. Well, to JJ and Pope's.
She had never actually been to JJ's house. She knew the address—only because JJ used to repeat it to himself ten times a day so he could remember—but she refused to go out there when Luke was around.
As she pulled up to the house, she was surprised, to say the least. It was...interesting. Beaten down but clearly DIY'd back together. There was a building by the dock and a flag waving that read 'Poguelandia'.
Myra shut the car off, getting out. "What the hell?" she mumbled, walking up to the porch.
She knocked on the door, waited ten seconds, then knocked again for good measure.
About twenty seconds later, the door opened to reveal Big John. He stood there for a few seconds, assumedly processing who it was, before a smile erupted onto his face, and he engulfed her in a hug.
"My My!" he exclaimed, spinning her around. She giggled, hugging him back tight. She'd definitely missed her parental figures. Hence why she spent twenty extra minutes over at the Heyward's just spending time with them before she headed over here.
"Hi, Pops," she whispered as he sat her down.
"We've been expecting you," he said, and she tilted her head in confusion.
It finally clicked, and she sighed. "Fucking Topper." She shook her head and Big John chuckled. "Who else knows?"
"Pretty much everyone who matters. Besides Rafe. Pretty sure they kept it from him," he replied.
Rafe. Her heart sped up. She didn't know if she was glad or nervous that he didn't know. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be. She wasn't sure what her reaction would be. She swallowed, ignoring the lump in her throat. "So, where is everyone?"
