by Jami Wagner
* * *
It was hard to sleep last night. My heart raced the entire evening and my stomach fluttered like a child on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t wait for morning to get here. Luckily for me, I don’t have to wait till the clock hits seven before I get up because the persistent knock at exactly six is hard to ignore. I make my way down the stairs and stand on my toes to look through the transom. A groan slips past my lips as I take a deep breath and open the front door.
“Good morning, Mrs. Mulligan,” I greet and take step to the side. She’s holding two coffee cups and a Thermos. “Would you like to come in?”
Mrs. Mulligan stands there for a second but doesn’t look at me. Instead, she stretches her neck and looks behind me. Poofy, gray hair fills my vision as she surveys the living room. Finally, her dark brown eyes flash to me and she smiles.
“As long as I’m not interrupting anything,” she says with a mischievous grin. I give her my best smile in return.
“Not at all, just a restless night.”
She walks past me straight for the kitchen like it’s something she does every day. She takes a seat at the round wooden table made for six and starts to fill the cups she brought with her.
“I’d be restless, too, if I were your age and a boy like that lived across the street from me. Do you know much about him?” she asks. I try to not laugh as I join her at the table. She didn’t waste any time getting to the point of her visit this morning.
“His name is Ethan Connelly. He’s a cousin of my friend Sara.”
A startled expression appears on her face and her hand bumps her cup. Some of her coffee sloshes onto the table and she starts to rise. I stop her.
“I’ll get you a napkin, Mrs. Mulligan.”
“Please, call me Helen.”
I grab a towel and return to the table.
“So, is this Max Connelly’s son?” she asks.
I nod. I wasn’t aware she knew the Connelly family well enough to know Ethan’s dad.
“One of them. I think there are three boys total, but I’m not quite sure.”
Her mouth twists as she glances out the kitchen window. “And what is he back in town for?”
She doesn’t look at me when she asks, but there’s something else in that curious tone of hers. Almost as if she thinks she needs to be cautious with the question.
“Sara’s going out of town for a while. Ethan’s here to help with the bar.”
“Ethan?” she asks, her voice loud and shocked. “Of all those boys, he let Ethan come?”
The way she says “let” makes it sound as though choosing him wasn’t ideal. I take a sip of the coffee she brought while she fidgets with her mug. Is she having this conversation because she wants to know about her new neighbor or because she’s digging for information? I bet my mother filled her in on all kinds of crazy stuff from around town.
“I don’t know why they wouldn’t pick Ethan.”
Helen just nods then waves her hand, dismissing the topic.
We finish our coffee with a much lighter discussions of classes and how living next to my parents has been a delight for her. It sounds like she and my mother are becoming quite good friends.
“Well, I must be going,” she says, standing and collecting her Thermos. “See you around, Kelsey. I’m very happy to know you’re staying here while your parents are away. Ever since Mr. Mulligan passed, the closeness of friends is important to me.”
The idea occurs to me that maybe she and my mother have coffee together often, and that I could fill in for my mom while she is away..
“Of course. Come back tomorrow, same time?”
Her smile grows as she opens the door.
“Kelsey, I’d be hesitant to let that boy anywhere near you. His father was always a snake. I don’t like to judge his boys off his behavior, but I don’t trust that family…”
A smile wavers at my lips as I give her a puzzled expression. She doesn’t trust Ethan?
“…not after the fit he threw at his father’s funeral. Men like that only think of themselves and for your sake, I hope he didn’t raise his boys that way,” she adds.
“I’ll make sure Ethan is on his best behavior.”
“Good, you can start now. He’s on his way over here.” She glances back at me. “Maybe you should fix your hair?” She laughs and walks out the door. Sure enough, Ethan is crossing the street with flowers in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. He’s giving me the biggest smile he can make.
First Mrs. Mulligan warns me away from him, and now I need to improve my appearance. She’s lost her mind. Getting old must suck.
Ethan
After tossing all night, I’ve finally made a decision. I want Kelsey and I don’t care whose rules I break to make it happen. My father can suck it. It’s not the most mature attitude to have, but I’m starting to learn that there are more important things in life than gaining my father’s approval. Being with Kelsey is worth losing a relationship with him. Then again, I can’t lose it seeing as how we never really had one to begin with. My brothers were always his favorites. They did everything he wanted and they did it exactly how he wanted it. I’m starting to think it might be because none of them actually have a heart.
None of that matters now. I’m going to convince Kelsey we should give this a real chance. There’s a reason my feelings never went away and I have to find out what made her stop last night. I have to fix it.
There’s a spring to my step when I reach the sidewalk outside the Brians’ house. Kelsey is standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of blue, white, and silver pajama pants and a red t-shirt that says The Black Alcove across the chest. Her hair is a mess, in a sexy way, and her eyes light up when I get to the door.
“Good morning, Ethan,” she says, taking a step back and waving her hand to gesture me inside. She blushes as she tries to hide the smile on her face.
“Good morning,” I say, not caring about the shit-eating grin on my face, too. “These are for you.” I hold up a bouquet of colorful flowers and her hand brushes mine when she takes them. When she looks into my eyes, I have to resist the urge to grab her and kiss her. Maybe that would cure the fact my heart both races and slows down each time I see her.
“These are beautiful.” She closes the door behind us. “What are you doing up so early?” I follow her to the kitchen where she pulls a vase from a bottom cupboard and fills it with water. I set the bag of groceries I brought with me on the island and take a seat.
“Well, Sara mentioned that you just started housesitting a couple days ago, and I made the assumption that you probably haven’t had time to make it to the store.” I start unloading the bag. Eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, onions, and cheese fill the counter space between us. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”
“Can you even cook?” she asks in a flirtatious tone.
“Of course I can cook.”
“Okay, but are you any good at it?”
“The best,” I say, making my way around the counter to stand in front of her. She freezes and looks into my eyes as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you relax, do whatever it is girls do when they get ready for the day, and I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
A confused expression washes over her face and she looks away. Her lips part like she’s going to say something, but then she closes them, nodding before disappearing up the stairs.
I hope she’s as accepting of the idea of us as she is to the idea of me cooking breakfast for her. If she is, I just might have to make this a regular morning routine.
