When Grandma takes the first sip of coffee, her eyes close in bliss as she lets out an embarrassing moan. I move about the kitchen, fixing us breakfast, when she suddenly starts talking.
“That new neighbor of ours, he’s not bad looking.”
Taking a deep breath, I try replying in a calm voice because she’s had this idea since Richard dumped me many years ago that he broke my juju. I, on the other hand, think I quickly developed a brain and refused to believe men after that. “He’s all right.”
“All right?” She cackles. “Girl, you need to go check your vision. The man is fine.”
“The man kicked me off of his property last night.”
“He just moved in.” A shrug of her shoulders weighed by age. “He doesn’t know any better. Maybe he was stressed.”
Narrowing my eyes, I point my index finger at her. “Why does it sound like you’re defending him?”
She rears back in mock horror, pressing her open hand to her chest. “I would never.”
I keep pushing. “And what were you doing on his porch this early?”
Her face changes in an instant, turning into this angelic old lady she pretends to be sometimes.
“Are you going to town today?”
“Of course, I am, Granny. I need to make sure Letty doesn’t burn down the diner. Again,” I add with a smirk.
“But it’s your day off, honey.”
I laugh. “Like it’s ever stopped you.”
“True, very true,” she laughs back. “But I can always comeand help.” Her tone turns considerate, and I walk up to her to give her white head a kiss.
“We’re doing fine, Grandma. I promise. You built a strong foundation for the place, so it’s easy for me to manage.”
“Okay,” she replies quietly, gently patting my shoulder. Then her palm moves to my belly for a quicktap-tap-tap. “Those eggs of yours don’t get any younger. Give this new fella a chance.”
Clicking my tongue, I whip around and return to fixing myself a plate. I am twenty-five years old, for God’s sake. And so what that I haven’t dated anyone since Dick? It’s my personal preference. But my grandma has put it on herself to see my sister and me both married before she departs from this world. Which won’t be anytime soon if I have anything to say about it.
I clean up the kitchen, then, since it’s a surprisingly nice morning, I go to the backyard to do a quick yoga session before running some errands.
As I settle onto my extra thick mat I keep specifically for outdoors, a gush of warm wind moves my dream catchers, creating a cacophony of familiar sounds. It’s good background music for some me-time. I’ve been collecting dream catchers for years, buying them off local artists around here and online. Ever since I started having nightmares—which is more than half my life—I’ve been relying on different things to protect me from bad dreams. It hasn’t been super successful so far, but I think it could be worse. So I keep my crystals and dream catchers around.
Our cozy backyard with my favorite trees, flowers, and charms from all over the country has always been my quiet and peaceful place, but now, my eyes keep wandering toward my neighbor’s house on their own accord. Grandma is right—the man is fine. Too bad he can speak because the moment he opened his mouth, I knew we wouldn’t be friends. Looks like our peaceful life has just become more interesting.
6
Jericho
Starting a day so early with minimum sleep is not ideal, but I’ve had worse. By the time I finish cleaning the place and fixing basic things that are too dangerous to leave them be, I’m caffeinated up to my ears. Jonah was right, the house might need a little more work than I initially planned, but it’s better this way. I like to keep busy between jobs. My next gig is not for a few weeks, so I can finish this house and make it home.
I could easily fix everything without getting a permit. It’s just a formality if I’m working on my house myself, but I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot in the new town, so I addstop at city hallto my to-do list.
After fixing the leaky faucets in every bathroom and the kitchen, I go to secure the loose steps on the front porch. I plan on replacing them, but for right now some extra nails will have to do. I can’t leave them like that and risk someone breaking their neck, but I’ve got errands to run.
My first stop is getting permits. Being met with curious looks the moment I step foot into city hall is expected. What is not expected is everyone’s lack of assistance when I ask whom I need to speak to regarding the renovations I have planned for my house.
After being sent from person to person (which surprisingly is a very large number of people for a town this size), I find myself knocking on a door with the nameJaqueline Randolph.
“Hello?” I call out, carefully pushing the door to open slightly.
“Yes?” a female voice responds.
