23
Jericho
The doorbell wakes me up from a deep dream on the couch. I must have fallen asleep while waiting for Nora to come back from work.
A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s well past eight. This is the time we usually hang out on our front porches if she doesn’t close the diner. She doesn’t today—I know her schedule.
Between waking up at ungodly hours because of the damn rooster and trying to finish renovations before I head to another job, I feel half alive. The only thing keeping me awake is the thought of our evening meetings.
When I left for almost two weeks, I didn’t expect that feeling in my chest. That constant itch that something was missing which got scratched only when I received a message from her. That’s when I knew I was fucked.
Last night I got even less sleep than usual—the lights went off, and I can’t sleep in total darkness. So when I finishedsome of the repairs around the house this afternoon, I brewed myself some of Roman’s mud water I secretly have come to love just so I could stay awake for our regular chat. Looks like it didn’t help, because I just found myself awakened by the doorbell.
The forward woman from city hall waiting at my door with a sultry smile is about the last thing I need. A city inspector holding permits over my head, offering a barter. To some, a dinner exchanged for a permit might not be a big deal, but it is for me. The woman gave me an ick before, and now, after all my time spent with Nora, I don’t even want to be in the same room with her.
“Well, hello, Jericho. We need to discuss your permits, and possibly your license. Since you’ve already started working on the house, I heard. We need to do the inspection so I can give you that permit you wanted from me.” She glances behind my back inside the house.
The timing for inspection is odd, and we both know that. But her mentioning my license stopped my initial desire to shut the door in her face. I need to deal with her and send her on her merry way before it becomes too late for my recurring evening with my witch.
“Here is where you invite me in.” She reminds me she’s still standing there while I’m scratching the back of my head, trying to shake away the dream. “I really need to check the property before I decide if I can sign that permit.”
I don’t have much of a choice at this point. I don’t know how to deal with women most of the time, and angering her doesn’t sound like a good start for me if I ever want to do business here. So I let her inside, leaning against the doorframe, wondering how long this is going to take and hoping that Nora will still be there by the time the inspector is done. A quick glance toward her porch makes me wonder why she’s not there—it’s our usual time, and neither of us have failed to show up. Well, until today. I failed.
The woman is all business at first. She walks through the living room, points out the new drywall I’ve been working on, and I secretly hope she won’t notice the rewiring in the kitchen. I got my plumbing and building permits thanks to Roman’s friend, but this woman has still been holding off on the electric.WhileI already started working on electric.
I follow her around, nodding along and smiling at the right places. My actions are automatic because my eyes keep darting to the wall clock—it’s almost pastourtime with my annoyingly interesting neighbor. What is she doing now? Why wasn’t she on the porch? I thought I saw movement in the shadows but couldn’t make her out.
Meanwhile, the inspector keeps roaming around my house. This is the third time she’s walked around the kitchen island, tracing her fingers over the counter. I make a mental note to wipe it down when she’s gone.
On the fourth round, I get an odd feeling that she’s not planning on leaving anytime soon.
“So, you’ve done all this work yourself?” she asks, her voice smooth as she trails a finger along the new countertop for the fifth time.
“Yeah,” I grunt, not offering more explanation. My name is on the fucking permit, I’m sure she can read it.
She turns, smiling in a way that suggests she’s sizing me up for something more than just a formality. “It’s impressive. Most people don’t tackle these kinds of projects on their own.”
I shrug, trying to brush it off. “That’s literally my job.”
She steps closer, her eyes not on the countertops anymore but on me, and I finally catch on to what all ofthisis. She’s not here for an inspection. She’s here to finish what she started. I get the feeling she’s probably one of those people who doesn’t take rejection lightly.
“Look,” I say, clearing my throat and stepping back a little, putting some distance between us. “If you’re done withwhatever paperwork you need, I’ve got to get to sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”
She doesn’t take the hint. Instead, she moves closer, her fingers brushing the edge of my sleeve like she’s trying to play it off as casual. But there’s nothing casual about the way her smile curves up at the edges, sly and knowing.
“You see,” she says, her voice dropping, “after our unfortunate meeting, I thought we might try again.” She confirms my suspicion, and I’m beginning to understand that I’m probably fucked with any future relationships with city hall. “We don’t get something like you around here often, and I’m extremely bored in this town.”
Something like me. Like she’s talking about some sort of property. A fucking object. What I’ve been treated like for nearly a decade.
She bites her lower lip, making me go stiff, the air between us going from awkward to tense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady. But I think our inspection here is done.”
Before I can figure out how to shut this down, she moves faster, closing the gap between us. Her hand lands on my chest, and she leans in, her lips aiming for mine. It takes me a beat too long to react, to push her back, and just as I’m grabbing her wrist to stop her, I catch a flash of movement outside the window over her shoulder.
Nora.
Fuck.
She’s standing by her window, looking straight at us. Her eyes go wide, and for a second, I see the hurt and confusion that cuts through her usual smirk she has around me. But before I can react, she’s gone, shutting her curtains closed and retreating into her house like a shadow.
