Page 41 of Lethal Weakness

Every day I stand at the sink washing dishes, and every day I let my eyes stay glued to my neighbor’s house. Whatever clashed between us two weeks ago when my car broke down for the second time has kept him far away from me.

I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but I do. It’s just the way that I’m wired. My emotions ooze out of me and surround anyone that I let close. I let Jack closer than I should have.

If he didn’t make me feel so important every time he shows up to save the day, it would have been easier to avoid the man with all of his secrets. But one look in his eyes and I am sucked into him, because I want to know all of them.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the 17-year-old boy who lost his parents and had to listen to his mother take her final breaths. Or the man so reluctant to be close to anyone, but incapable of not helping when I’m in need.

I definitely can’t stop interchanging the man in the mask for the man in the baseball hat. I have no proof that it’s him, but when I think of one, I think of the other. Both of which make me feel tingly inside for different reasons.

My ex stole my ability to feel safe around men, but I feel safe with Jack, and for some reason, the man who hides in the shadows at my in-laws’ mansion.

I could have asked anyone about the man I saw, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was an outsider like me.

Suds splash in the sink after I drop my mug into the water by accident. Ugh, I’m delusional.

I’m practically crushing on an unidentified stranger, and definitely crushing on the man next door who apparently wants nothing to do with me.

“Mommy?”

I wipe the soap off my cheek with the back of my hand. “Yes, baby.”

“Can I go play outside?” It’s nearly lunchtime, but it’s a beautiful day, and I can’t stand to tell her no.

I glance out to the backyard, and then over to Jack’s, just in time to see him walk out his back door carrying a tray of raw steak.

“Sure, but stay right in the back. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Otay!”

She skips out the back door and straight to her bubble station, but only picks up her wand and runs to the fence line. I watch her talk animatedly to Jack as he grills, and I smile as his mouth upticks in soft amusement.

He looks like he just showered. He’s not wearing his dirty hat, and his hair is slightly damp. His shirt looks nearly clean, and his jeans are barely worn.

He’s exposed like this, with his shoulders back and his head held high, looking over the fence at Avery. He looks serene and untroubled.

He doesn’t look like a lonely mechanic when he’s like this, and not hiding behind his truck.

I dry my hands and walk out the door just as Avery carries a plate back with a giant cooked steak. “Dinosaur food for lunch!” She yells, bringing it to me.

“Wow, did you say thank you?”

“Thank you, Mr. Jack!” She screeches across the yards.

Our eyes meet, but all I get is a gentle nod before he turns his back and walks back inside.

He never comes back out.

I stew all afternoon about his cold shoulder, and decide to take Avery into town to get takeout for dinner to distract myself.

My life would be significantly easier if I could continue to expand her palate and increase her list of safe foods, so tonight I dare to offer her a cheese pizza.

I call ahead to the only pizza place in town, and we walk the mile from our house, taking turns skipping and spinning on the broken and cracked sidewalk.

Days like this, when the weather is nice and we’re not being bothered by toxic people, it feels like everything will truly be okay. All we need is each other, and we’ll get through anything that comes at us.

I point her to the door we need, and she insists that she wants to open it, so I let her try for a few seconds before gently helping her pull. Smitty’s Bar is the only takeout spot available, but when we walk in, the graying crabby bartender barks at us.

“No kids.”