“God save us from cliches.”
Small kids in the yard behind Lindsey’s fence yelled and shrieked, laughing, the sound carrying to us clearly. “Do you want kids?”
Lindsey chuckled. “That’s quite the topic change. Yeah. Someday. If I ever find Mr. Right.”
“How would you know him if you saw him?” I watched her face closely as she sipped from her glass and pondered her answer.
“You know,” she replied at last. “When you meet someone, something clicks. Your gut tells you immediately that this person could be the one.”
“We clicked that day we met,” I commented. “I felt it. Didn’t you?”
Lindsey nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“So maybe we’re fated.”
“Fated?”
“To be together.” I reached across the short distance between us and lightly touched the back of her hand. “Fated mates.”
I was glad to see she failed to flinch away. “I’m not sure I believe that much, Brody. That I’d move across the country to live in a house next door to someone I’m destined to be with.”
“Can’t be a coincidence we clicked the moment we met.” I drank my wine, wondering if I was blowing smoke up both our asses. “Something to think about.”
“You go ahead. Me, I’m not so sure I can fall in love again.”
Ah, a clue to her past. Interesting.“I thought that, too, once,” I said slowly, listening to the kids. “I once loved and lost. But life goes on, eh?”
“There you go with the trite again.” Lindsey half smiled. “As a writer, that offends my sensibilities.”
“Then I shall endeavor to cease and desist with the cliches. Meanwhile, you have a deadline.” I swallowed the last of my wine. “Get to work while I cook dinner.”
Chapter Nine
Lindsey
“Hi,” chirped the beady eyed, gray-haired lady standing on my front porch, beaming. “I just want to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Shirley Gibbons.”
“Oh.” Momentarily taken aback by the itty bitty woman with the covered cake in her hands, I blinked. “That’s so nice of you. I’m Lindsey.”
“I made a chocolate cake.” Shirley’s voice dropped in what I took to be a conspiratorial whisper. “Chocolate is so good when you get your monthlies.”
“Uh.”
She appeared sweet, kind, and most likely lonely. I dismissed the second comment as harmless and opened my door wider. “Will you come in, Shirley? I can make coffee.”
“How lovely.”
She marched into my house, looking at the mess of unpacked boxes with an assessing eye. Thank God Brody felt well enough to go back to work and had a coworker give him a ride. I’d little doubt seeing him here in all his stitched glory would send Shirley into a gossip laden tither.
“Where did the Pattersons go?” she inquired, making her unerring way into the kitchen.
“Retired to Florida,” I replied, following her. “They’re friends of my parents.”
“Oh, how nice for you, my dear. Are you just renting?”
I started the coffee while thinking her a bit too nosey for my liking, but I decided to humor her. I’d also no doubt what I tell her will make the neighborhood rounds by nightfall. “Renting with the first option to buy.”
Shirley set the cake in the middle of the table and sat. “You’ll just love it here,” she said in that mysterious whisper. “Such nice people around the neighborhood.”
