by London Casey
Every time she flew up into the air she would let out a scream.
I couldn’t really see the person behind her, but it was the guy that had been holding her hand. Her father. I saw sunglasses. I saw his height. I saw his build. I saw his tattoos.
“Go higher, Daddy!” Sadie yelled. “I’m flying!”
It made me laugh.
That was the reason why I took the job at the daycare center. I needed that injection of life into me.
I went back inside and shut only the screen door.
I didn’t mind the noise at all.
I grabbed the notebook from the kitchen and cleared off the dining room table. The boxes could wait a little longer to get unpacked. I opened the notebook and flipped to a new page.
I could still hear Sadie yelling.
Smiling, I decided to write a little.
Remember when we used to scream? For fun? When the wind was our friend, but our scary enemy at night. Tree branches to climb, but in the shadows they were crooked fingers, wanting to scratch our windows. Clutching the chains of a swing set, pumping our legs, needing to fly higher and higher. We believed we could jump on a cloud. Or bite into one like cotton candy at a carnival.
I stopped writing.
The sounds outside were gone.
I walked to the deck again and I saw the swing set in the next yard. The swing was still slowly moving back and forth. Sadie and her father were back inside.
Probably because her mother, his wife, was home. They’d probably cook dinner together, talk, laugh, do the entire family thing. Get Sadie ready for bed and have alone time.
My heart squeezed a little more than I wanted it to. In some ways I felt like I had missed out on a big part of my life. The chance to maybe meet the right guy. The hard part now was that at my age it seemed any single guys either had troubled pasts or came with enough baggage that it would fill my living room like the boxes were.
I gripped the railing of the deck. I looked around. I wanted speakers outside. Small speakers in the corner. How refreshing would it be to sit outside and listen to some music while sipping a cold drink on a hot day while reading or writing?
It made me smile.
The doorbell rang and I jumped and screamed.
I had never heard the doorbell at the new house. Ever. Not even when I came to look at the house. I didn’t press it. How strange was that?
The doorbell rang again. Almost right away.
“Hold on,” I whispered.
I hurried through the house, darting around boxes like an obstacle course.
The doorbell rang a third time.
“Really?” I asked.
I grabbed the door handle and opened it.
I was half considering saying something snarky like what’s the emergency? but I froze.
I was staring at a bouquet of flowers, with the sexiest set of brown eyes almost looking through them at me.
“These are for you,” his voice said.
So rough. So deep. So sexy.
My tongue felt like it was swollen, my lips like I had just come from the dentist and couldn’t talk.
“Wrong house,” another voice said.
A tiny voice.
I looked down.
It was Sadie standing there.
Sadie?
“You going to take these or what?”
I looked forward again and the flowers were moved down enough so I could see his face. A man that had a jaw beat up from stone, not that smooth look, but something grittier and edgier. Black scruff on his face, the left side of his lip curled like I was annoying him. His eyes were so dark, like his hair. His arms were covered in tattoos. Along with a lot of muscle.
“They’re for me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Some guy delivered them to me. By accident. You’re Emily?”
“That’s me,” I said.
“Well, here. Take them.”
I took the large bouquet of flowers. I grabbed for the tag. It was from the nurses who had helped with my grandmother. They put down the wrong address on the card.
I blinked fast, trying not to choke up in front of the wildly handsome stranger and his daughter.
“She’s pretty,” Sadie said.
Her father looked down at her. “That’s enough.”
I hurried to put the flowers on the table near the door.
“Thank you,” I said. “Sorry about that. And anything else with the moving truck and delivery truck. I just moved in.”
“I didn’t realize that,” he said.
Sort of cocky. Like a damn jerk.
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay then.”
“His name is Jake,” Sadie said.
“Sadie,” Jake said.
I smiled.
“And I’m Sadie,” she said. “I live next door.”
“I know that. I saw you on your swing set.”
Sadie’s cheeks turned red and she hugged Jake’s leg. She put her hand to her mouth. She was nervous. She was adorable. Heart melting adorable.
And Jake… he was something else melting adorable.
“Tell your boyfriend to get your address right next time,” Jake said.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I blurted out.
“Well, whatever.”
“Your house is messy,” Sadie said. “Can I play on the boxes?”
Sadie took a step forward and Jake put his hand out. “Not our house, Sadie. Don’t be like that.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I mean, if you want a tour…”
Now I felt my cheeks burning red.
A tour? Did I just invite this guy into my house?
He probably had been in the house many times. He probably was friends with the old neighbors. His wife too. I was the new person.
“I think we’re good,” Jake said. “We have to get going.”
“Daddy is getting pizza,” Sadie said. “You should have some with us.”
Jake turned and scooped Sadie up into his arms. She looked so small in his arms. She gripped his arms. Her little hands touching all that ink. There was something about that…
Jake looked at me, that annoyed look again. “Take care.”
“Yeah. You too…”
He turned and walked away.
Sadie peered over his shoulder and smiled. She gave another small wave to me. I waved back.
I leaned against the open doorway, watching with eyes that weren’t with good intentions at all. Leave it to me to be the woman that moves into the neighborhood and has the hots for the neighbor.
I shut the door and let out a long sigh.
Hot or not, the guy was a total jerk.
A neighbor war may be better than a neighbor affair, right?
Then again… what about having both?
Chapter Five
A Drink That’s Just a Drink
(Jake)
“Why don’t you have just one?”
Mickey stuck the pack of cigarettes in my face. To Mickey, a chance to stand outside and relax was a waste if you weren’t sucking on some smoke. I looked at the cigarette packaging and had no idea what brand they were. And I wasn’t even going to ask. Knowing Mickey he’d do anything to find the cheapest smokes.
I put my hand to his wrist and pushed him away. “No thanks. Maybe ten years ago.”
“Ten years ago,” Mickey said with a laugh. “What, you think you’re old or something?”
I glanced at Mickey. I smirked. No point in talking about time. He was older than time and had survived a lot of shit, including losing his wife five years ago. A woman that didn’t smoke. That didn’t drink. That did everything she could to take care of herself, her husband, her community, and she passed away in the middle of a random Tuesday.
Mickey lit a fresh smoke and let out a growling sound as he exhaled. “Caught up, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Then again, slow time is never a good thing.”
“For you? It is. You should go home.”
“Go home?”
“Take an afternoon off. Pick up Sadie early. Surprise her.”
“Nah, Mick, there’s no surprising Sadie. I have to be careful. I show up unannounced and she’s going to think someone’s dead.”
“Jesus.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s the truth.”
“Poor kid. You ever, uh, think about the doctors and stuff?”
I rubbed my jaw. “She’s gone to talk a few times but I think she’s too young. It’s more for me. And I just…” I looked away. “Not right now, Mick.”
“You got it,” he said.
We stood in silence as Mickey enjoyed his smoke. Me? I don’t know what the hell I enjoyed. Sadie had another couple of rough nights of sleep. I was thinking about calling the doctor again, for both of us. It was good to talk. But talking meant taking a knife to a wound that wasn’t even close to being healed.
“I’m serious, Jake,” Mickey said. “Get out of here. We’re all set. Anything that comes now we won’t touch until tomorrow.”
“Mick, I’m not bailing on you.”
“You’re not bailing, I’m telling you to leave. Go take a day to yourself. Leave Sadie at school or whatever the hell that place is. She’s safe. We’re good here. Get in the truck, put down the windows, blast some music. We all need that once in a while, Jake.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“If anything happens or comes in…”
“I’ll call you,” Mickey said.
He winked.
That’s how I knew he was lying.
He wouldn’t call.
I pushed away from the garage and looked around.
Fuck it.
Almost an entire day off?
I’d take that.
So I got into my truck and blasted the hell out of there. I stopped at a small pizza joint just outside of town and got myself two slices and a soda. The place smelled of warm garlic. There was a radio in the background with two guys arguing sports. A small TV hung in the corner playing the news.
I ate and left.
I had a lonely feeling in the pit of my gut.
I went to the daycare and thought about calling to get Sadie out early. But what for? To take her to a park? To take her home? She was in a place with other kids and teachers. She was learning, she was entertained, and the last thing she really needed was me to show up and be this glaring reminder of all she had lost.
So I found myself going home.
I could have gone to the gym. I had a monthly membership that I used half a dozen times a year. But I went home. I could have gone to the bar and had a beer or two. But I was smarter than that. Two would be four and four would be eight and then Sadie would be waiting for me to pick her up. And I would not become that dad. I grew up with a dad like that.
Going home and being alone was a tricky thing. The house was so quiet. So empty. Almost to the point where I swore I could hear her voice. I could hear her singing in the shower. Such terrible singing, too. But I’d never tell her that. Or hear the sound of her poppy music playing in the kitchen while I was in the garage working on the car.
That’s what I decided to do.
Work on the car.
I pulled into the driveway and opened the garage with a button right above my head in the truck. The car was beyond done but I would forever work on it.
The second I climbed out of the truck I heard a thudding sound. I leaned against the front of my truck and crossed my arms. I watched as the front door to the new neighbor’s house opened.
What was her name?
Emily.
Damn.
Emily.
Why’d it have to be that? Something so close to… her name.
I gritted my teeth. I hated that little things like that pissed me off.
I watched as Emily kicked her left foot out to hold the door open. She began to drag what looked like a table out of the house. Inch by inch. The legs hitting the porch with thuds. The sound of wood splintering.
She pulled at the opposite end of the table and stood it up. She began to turn it and the table lost its balance and fell.
It was entertaining for a few seconds.
Emily hurried around the table to where it was falling.
Since it was heavier than her, the result was pretty obvious.
She was going to hurt herself.
I ran across my driveway and jumped the little white fence, entering her yard.
With that one little jump, my life was going to forever change.
“Hey, be careful,” I yelled as I jumped up to the porch.
There was Emily, her hands on the bottom of the table, the legs sticking out like they were about to grab her. She looked like someone in an alien movie fighting back against a multi armed monster.
She looked at me, struggling to hold the table. The two legs at the bottom were already cracked. The table wouldn’t stand on its own anymore.
I grabbed the side of the table and nodded to Emily. “Back up.”
“You sure?”
“Back up,” I said louder. “Now.”
Emily let the table go.
She backed away.
I twisted the table and pulled, allowing it to gently fall back and balance itself against the house.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“What the hell are you doing with this?” I asked.
“Moving it.”
“Yeah, I get that. Where are you moving it?”
“Now? To the trash. It’s broken.”
“It wasn’t broken before you decided to move it?”
“No,” Emily said. “I was going to put it on the porch and see how it looked.”
“A table on the porch?” I asked.
“Why not?”
“This thing is too big.”
“I see that now, Jake,” she said.
Jake. She said my name. Jake. Her small lips speaking my name. Just standing there in dirty jeans and a shirt that fits all too well. Her hair pulled back and messy, no makeup, just being herself.
I shook my head to chase away the thoughts.
“Plus,” she said, “I’m painting the inside of the house. So I need the room right now. That’s another reason I wanted to bring it out here.”
“Okay, let me ask you this. Do you have a dining room table besides this one?”
“No,” she said. “I just bought this thing not too long ago. Cheap junk stuff. I guess it’s my fault for not spending a lot on it. I’ll have to get a new one now.”
“Right,” I said. I wasn’t going to open a dialogue about shopping for dining room tables. I wasn’t her best friend. We weren’t going to drink wine and watch chick flicks. I only came over to make sure she didn’t end up under the table with a broken neck. “So you’re definitely trashing this then?”
“I guess so.”
I pulled at the table and slowly leaned the weight toward me. I turned it so I could lift at the smooth side, sticking the legs up and out. Dragging them on the ground was pointless. They'd just keep cracking and breaking.
I wiggled the table to the top step and bent my knees.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked.
I didn’t answer my new neighbor.
I lifted and walked down the steps with the table. It occurred to me that my interactions with women this week had been me carrying tables. Hell, maybe I had a second life waiting in moving furniture for single women.
I put the table at the end of the sidewalk.
When I turned, Emily was right there, a foot away from me.
There was a starkness about her. Her natural features, bright eyes, the way she put her hands to her hips.
“You’ll need a trash sticker for that,” I said. “You can get one at the township building.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“You really dragged that thing from the dining room to the porch?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I looked back at the one leg. Completely cracked and dangling l
ike a loose tooth waiting for one last tug. The other leg was crooked with a splinter down the middle.
“At what point did the legs crack?”
“Halfway through the living room.”
“And you didn’t think to stop?”
“I had no help,” she said.
No boyfriend? Husband? Wait, she already said she had no boyfriend once before… but that didn’t mean…
It wasn’t my business.
“Right,” I said. “No help. Well, it’s out here now.”
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked. “I owe you one.”
“No,” I said quickly. “No.”
“It’s just a drink, Jake. Doesn’t have to be alcohol or anything.”
“I just said no.”
“Okay. Fine. Sorry.”
I sighed under my breath. “Look. I got out of work early. Sadie is at daycare until three. I have some time to kill. It doesn’t happen often for me. I didn’t plan on getting dragged into your life again. First the flowers. Now a table.”
I realized how it came across as I said it.
Emily stepped back. “Wow. You’re going to be some neighbor, huh? Just do me a favor, Jake. Don’t bother me unless the house is on fire. This is your fault. I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You would have broken your damn neck, Em.”
“Em…?”
I growled under my breath. “Sorry. Emily.”
“You called me Em.”
“Emily,” I said.
Why’d I nickname her? What the fuck am I thinking right now?
“Jake, I’m sorry if I offended you,” Emily said. “I was just offering you a drink. A thank you for your help. A glass of water. Iced tea. That was it. Even later. Bring Sadie over. And your…” Her mouth moved but nothing came out.
“My what?” I asked.
“My wife? My girlfriend? My fiancée? What?”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “Any of that. Whatever you have.”
“Whatever I have,” I said. “Good luck with finding a new table. And your painting.”
I turned and walked out of her yard.
“Jake. Wait.”
Emily began to chase after me. She grabbed for me. I felt her hand touch my bare arm. Soft fingers. Her nails gently pulling at me.
I ripped my arm away and looked back.
