But they still send me updates about locals asking when we’ll shut down for construction and if Elsie’s scones will stay on the menu afterward and when they can bring by dinner for us.
I know what’s happening.
Zen’s rapidly deciding this place is living up to their expectations on top of thinking I’m an idiot for trying to beSuper Vengeance Man.
They’re a lot like who I used to be.
Find someone who accepts you for who you are, and you’ll do anything for them.
I grunt softly to myself over my puzzle.
Fine.
Fine.
I’d still do anything for someone who accepts me as I am. I just don’t believe anyone who says they can.
Not when theotherconversation blowing up my phone is a group chat where my brothers have joined in on wanting to know why I won’t help with Felicia’s birthday.
A woman only turns thirty once. And she’s such a good mom to Duke. You should quit holding a grudge and help with the party.
The relative silence on that front was nice while it lasted.
Zen’s right about one thing for certain.
I should change my phone number.
I manage to nap some—all-nighters are not the joy they once were, but I liked the quiet of the café after hours—and finally immerse myself in a wooden puzzle of a lion while contemplating the logistical issues I anticipate for applying for a liquor license in town.
I’m engrossed enough that I almost don’t notice the sounds of my next-door neighbor returning.
Almost.
Jitter doesn’t bark much. He’s a good puppy. And while the walls are thin, other than Sabrina’s nightly toothbrush routine that I try to avoid, I only hear the soft noises of phone conversations or the TV on without being able to hear distinct words.
Not that she’s home much.
She’s as much a social butterfly as I am a hermit-in-training.
She doesn’t turn on the television now though.
No, that’s an entirely different sound coming through the wall, and it’s one that makes my heart freeze.
Crying.
I stare at the stairwell on the wall separating my living room from what I assume is Sabrina’s living room.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” an unfamiliar woman says. “Oh, honey. Come here. It’ll be okay.”
“She’s so mad at me, Mom. She practically ran away as soon as she saw me.”
Jitter whines.
My gut twists and I angle closer to the wall.
“She’s working through a lot of things right now,” Sabrina’s mom says.
“She used to work through themwith me. Both of us. Laney and me.”
