Aiken
“Dumb fucking idiot.”
That was what I mumbled to myself as I made my way back home, Claire’s friend still sprawled in my lounge chair, the glow of her phone illuminating her made-up face.
I wanted to turn back and look at Claire’s house. Maybe if I stared long enough, I could make sense of what she’d said.
Used to be a mom?
Jesus Christ, what the ever-loving-fuck happened?
And why the hell was I so fascinated with this woman?
Yeah, she turned me on, even when she was sweaty and sticky from her run. With curves in all the right places and beautiful silky hair, she was a goddess. But after what she’d said, I should’ve run back home to Indiana and forgot why I even came here.
“Struck out, did ya?” Her friend didn’t even bother to look up from plucking at her phone.
Stubbing my cigar on the side of the house, leaning my shoulder into the trim, I waited for her to get up and leave. I needed time to untangle my thoughts. Shit, I was breaking out in a cold sweat over the babe next door.
“She used to be fun, fancy-free, gorgeous, smart as fuck. Well, she’s still that and gorgeous—”
“That part’s easy to see,” I interrupted, then quickly shut my shit down. No way I needed to explain myself to Claire’s friend. I had wanted to get to know my neighbor—in several ways. Now I wanted to hide.
Or fix whatever happened.
Jesus Christ, I was a man, not a fucking psychologist.
What was happening to me?
“But she’s notClaireClaire. To be honest, she hasn’t been Claire since David walked out. There were still tiny hints, but Abby dying was a game changer. Don’t be too hard on yourself…I’m pretty sure if Ryan Gosling walked through the gate, he’d get the same cold shoulder as you.”
“Yeah.” I continued to tuck my jumbled feelings deep inside my craw, never one to let them hang out. I was a man’s man back home, full of pride. Stoic had suited me for years.
I’d already revealed enough to this stranger. Never one to wear my feelings on my flannel, I tried to tuck away this newfound gentleness. “It’s cool. I was just trying to be neighborly, but there’s something about her…”
I didn’t want to tip my hand entirely, but that woman—strong beyond measure, proud too. And soft where it counted. She did something for me.
Her friend sat forward, tucking her phone in her cleavage. “What’s your story?”
“Really? You’re going to go that way now? I’m over here daydreaming about your friend, and…”
Obviously, I wasn’t able to put a lid on my fascination.
“Not like that.” Her sultry laugh rang into the night, but did nothing for me. “Stupid husband is just getting the kids down, so I have some time to kill. He may be stupid, but he’s all mine. I definitely don’t want anyone else.”
“Well, you’re welcome to hang out, but I’m going inside. My story…is a closed case to you. Maybe not for her.” I cocked my hand toward Claire’s house.
One, I’d had enough sadness for the night.
Two, I knew if I had any chance in getting Claire to warm up, it would have to be an eye for an eye. Quid pro quo. I could tell this Mary had a big mouth. She’d be on her phone and spilling before she even got home.
“Of course, you wouldn’t want me to know before Claire.”
“That’s not gonna work, Mary. I’m young, not dumb. No way I’m going to fall for that tactic. Make sure the gate’s closed on your way out.”
I hustled up the few steps and inside the door before she could protest…or not. She seemed somewhat content to have a moment to herself. Inside, I ran my cigar under water in the sink, before collapsing into bed with my clothes still on and my head reeling.
The next morning, I woke early—a leftover habit of growing up on a farm. Stumbling into the all-white bathroom, I took a piss and gargled with mouthwash, noting I should paint it navy or some shit. Pulling the front window blind open, I surveyed the quiet street. Newspapers littered a few lawns, a sprinkler went off a few doors down, and across the way, clouds filled the sky. It wasn’thomehome, but it was fine.
