“Wait!” I cry out in horror, looking around like I’m a teenager caught doing something inappropriate. “She’ll get you again.”
She pauses with her hand on her cart. “I’ve been dealing with her my whole life. We all have. She’s harmless, just bored. Like the majority of us. She has probably already forgotten about you.” With a shrug, she disappears around the corner.
I wait a few moments before following her. There are no signs of my neighbor or Ms. Lenny. Still on high alert, I grab my cart and rush around the store getting the rest of the groceries. By now, I’ve all but forgotten about the strawberrymilk, and my only thought is to escape without meeting Ms. Lenny again. Or Nora, if I’m honest. The place where her hand touched me still feels warmer than it should be.
I round the corner toward the cashier when an already familiar figure jumps out in front of me and cuts me off in line like she’s in an F1 race. I clear my throat. Loudly. She doesn’t turn around, only grips the handle of her cart tighter. I do the same again. She flips her long hair from one shoulder to the other. I stare at the back of her head with an intensity I know is palpable. She doesn’t turn around. I keep staring. Her grip tightens. I stare harder. Her hand comes up to the back of her head, and she scratches it with her middle finger.
Understanding that it’s useless to talk to this immature person, I decide to grind my jaw until she finishes ringing up all her purchases, so I don’t say something nasty. But she’s awoken something immature in me too, so I move forward, just a tiny bit, andaccidentallypush her with my cart. Her head jerks toward me with narrowed eyes and a promise of retribution. I just smile back sweetly.
With her groceries finally moved all the way to the front, I put the divider between our stuff and start unloading mine. Because she’s still at the register, I have to go in front of my cart. Since I’ve moved forward, the person behind me has come close nearly to my heels. I can’t really complain because I just did the same but for a different reason.
“Nora, honey, can you get that box for me?” The cashier passes a scanner to her, and the witch is trying to scan the box on the lower shelf of her cart but can’t find the code.
“Let me help,” I say, making a movement to bend and look down when she does the same. We meet halfway with a loudthud.
“Shit!” She jumps up, pressing her hand to her forehead. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything!” The spot where we connected starts throbbing, but I’m used to it. My head has seen a lot;there’s a reason hard hats are required on construction sites. Hers probably feels like crap, and for a moment I feel sorry for her. “Are you okay?”
Shooting an angry glare at me, she scans the damn code and returns the scanner to the cashier, who’s watching us with wide eyes.
When Nora pays, she sends me another stare and heads outside the store.
Not knowing what just happened and who this new petty person is—me—when she’s around, I pay for my groceries and head to my truck. Before driving off, I pull out my phone and shoot a very important message to Jonah.
Why didn’t you tell me I have a psychotic neighbor?
Jonah’s reply is instant. Funny how he knows exactly whom I mean.
What? Nora is a sweetheart.
Nora is a witch.
NOO! She’s really sweet. Give her a chance.
I will not.
I’ve been set up. My realtor thinks the oddball from next door, who haunts me even in a grocery store, issweet. I have to setsome strict boundaries, and after running some errands, I’ll have to figure out how she got through the fence. Because yesterday evening, this morning on my porch, and now the store interaction have shown me everything—I’ll never be friends with my new neighbor.
A few minutes on the way home from the grocery store I get a call from my brother.
“How’s it going, brother? What happened to you last night?”
Groaning, I tell him the story of my evening tomfoolery. By the time I’m done talking about the standoff with the witch, defending her grandmother’s honor, and then the grocery store after, he’s hysterical.
“You know what? I think this town might be good for you.”
I growl in response, making my brother laugh even harder. When he’s done enjoying my misery, he asks,“Are you sure you’re okay for the weekend? You just moved in, you probably have a shit ton to do. Plus, I don’t know if I’ll be back by Saturday evening, but I’ll try.”
“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing—I moved my ass faster knowing I gotta have a clean house. We’ll be fine.”
And we will be, but he’ll always be worrying. He’s at the place in his life where everything is uncertain, and this is why I offered to help.
“Okay.”I hear someone calling his name through the phone.“All right, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
I unload the bags and go to check the fence. In the process of not finding how the intruder got into the yard, my alarm goes off. It’s time to go to the bus station and pick up my first houseguest.
