“You okay?” Greg asked.
I glanced up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Forcing a smile, I set my phone down on the table. “It’s nothing. Tell me about work.”
Greg sighed. “Work is the same as always. Selling computer software to a bunch of geeks isn’t the most exciting thing to do. Sometimes I wonder if I should stick it out or find something better.”
“You can do whatever you set your mind to.”
“I know, but I can’t seem to decide what to do. I go back and forth on the issue because my job has good benefits.”
“Understandable.”
“Hey, a bunch of my coworkers are getting together for dinner this evening.” He appeared to consider. “You should come. You can be my obligatory Platonic date.”
I snickered. We’d often stood in for each other at weddings or office functions. “Can’t. Emily invited me over for dinner. I’m supposed to meet one of Ethan’s friends. It’s not a set-up or anything, but she thinks we might click.”
Greg and I had both spoken about our dates and potential love-interests over the years. It may have been awkward the first few times the discussion came up but after that, it was no big deal. Except for when he decided to get jealous out of the blue for no good reason. And it only happened occasionally—usually when he’d just broken up with a girlfriend and felt lonely.
Greg’s forehead wrinkled. “Hmmm.”
“Hmmm? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Have you ever thought about what it would be like if the two of us got back together?”
I scrunched up my nose and gave him a look. “You don’t want that, Greg. We’re better off as friends. You know that, and we’ve had this conversation a hundred times.”
He frowned. “We were good together.”
Trying my best not to scoff, I fixed a flat expression on my face. “That was years ago and both of us moved on. We don’t have the kind of feelings—”
“Come on, Allison.” Greg stood to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Every time we talk about this you immediately forget about the discussion the next day. It’s like a passing fancy. That’s not love. That’s nostalgia.” I stood and collected our plates to bring to the kitchen. This conversation annoyed me. Greg was so predictable, and I should never have brought up meeting someone new. He had no problem telling me about his dates. Why couldn’t he just be happy I hadn’t completely given up on love and wanted to keep trying? I thought we’d gotten past all this.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’ll let it go.”
“Thank you,” I said, tossing our napkins in the trash. I lifted the bag out of the stainless-steel container and tied the strings. “Be right back.”
I headed towards the back door, the quickest route to the side of the house where my trash dumpsters stood. Swinging the door open, my eyes landed on two muddy footprints. Exactly like the ones on my front porch.
Okay, now I was concerned.
3
Emily’s text came through later in the day as I folded laundry. Can you bring a dessert tonight? I’m swamped with a bunch of chores and won’t have time to make anything. I texted: Sure, I’ll make homemade brownies. That ok? She sent back a happy face emoticon.
I added: Pray for me. My boss, Lori, keeps emailing me about finding a third speaker for the criminology conference at the college. I’ve exhausted all my resources.
She responded: Will definitely pray.
I glanced at the time. It was two-thirty in the afternoon, and I had to be at her house by five. Deciding I should go to the store now in order to pick up ingredients, I grabbed my purse and keys and headed out the door, walking straight to my car. I stopped abruptly when I noticed the flat tire on the front driver’s side. It wasn’t just a little flat—it was leveled to the ground.
Wow. How did that happen? I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a harsh breath. Unbelievable. Greg walked right past my vehicle and didn’t even notice. I hadn’t noticed either, but then again, I hadn’t gone out front all day.
“Everything okay?” a male voice asked behind me. I turned to see my neighbor, Barry walking by.
I cleared my throat and tried to smile. “Could be better. Just noticed my tire is flat, and I have no idea how it happened. The car drove fine yesterday.”
Barry was a nice guy in his mid-thirties with brown unruly hair falling over his forehead and thick black-rimmed glasses that made his eyes appear unusually large for his face. He had a medium build and tended to wear shirts too small for his belly. For as long as I’d known him, a sliver of skin was always exposed between his shirt and pants.
Bless his heart. He seemed a little socially awkward, but he’d made an attempt to be kind to me and that had to count for something.
When I’d first moved into my new house several months ago, he’d stopped by with cookies. I’d never received a gesture like that from a man and thought it really sweet. We spoke to each other now and then, and I’d friended him on Facebook. As often as I could, I emailed him job openings at the college because he’d been out of work for at least a year. I wondered how he managed to pay all his bills but hadn’t asked since it was none of my business.
Once in a while, he’d send me a private message on Facebook, and we sometimes played scrabble online. One night, I’d found him going through my trash, and it had appeared a little shady at the time.
The dumpster had been out on the curb, waiting for the garbage truck the following morning. When I’d confronted him about it, he’d said he was looking for recyclables—liked to cash in plastic bottles for money. It seemed like a reasonable explanation, but the way he had stumbled over the story left me with a strange feeling.
Glancing at my car, Barry scratched his chin and bent down, running a hand over the base and giving me an unfortunate view of his butt crack. I averted my eyes.
“There’s a hole right here,” he said. “I don’t see a nail, so I’m guessing you ran over something that punctured the tire. I can change it to the donut if you’d like.”
Letting out a relieved breath, I smiled. “Thank you so much. That would be really helpful. I’ll have to stop at a tire place later today.”
He brightened. “Anything for you, Allison.”
I opened the trunk to my car, and he took out the spare and a few tools. He seemed to know what he was doing, which was a good thing because I couldn’t remember how to change a tire. Dad had taught me years ago, but I’d forgotten the steps since I hadn’t had this happen in a long time.
He began the process of taking off the old tire, and we chatted while he worked. “How was your visit with Greg this morning?” he asked.
Warning bells went off in my head. “I’ve never mentioned Greg to you before. How did you know he visited today?”
He glanced at me with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and then quickly composed himself. “You and I are Facebook friends. I recognized him from his picture.”
An eerie feeling twisted in my gut, and my defenses shot up. “I have three hundred Facebook friends, Barry. Do you mean to tell me you went through them all and remember what everyone looks like?” My tone sounded sharper than I intended, but I didn’t like that he knew things I’d never told him.
He chuckled. “No, silly. I saw your post on Facebook about getting Snowball a cute outfit. I noticed Greg’s comment. Thought what he said about Snowball being a diva was funny.”
That made complete sense, and now I felt like a jerk for questioning him in an accusatory manner, especially since he was doing me a favor.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have insinuated—”
“Don’t apologize. You have to be careful these days. I understand.”
I relaxed my shoulders. “Thanks, Barry. You’re the best.”
He smiled at me and then turned back to his task. “It’
s nice to hear you say that.”
A few minutes later he finished and stood to his feet. “That was easy. You should be good to go until you purchase a new tire. I can help you out if you need money—”
“Oh, no. You’ve already done enough. I couldn’t take your money. Besides, I have enough to cover it. It won’t be a problem.”
He pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to me. My eyes bulged. “You just happened to have a hundred dollars in your pocket?”
“I . . . uh . . .” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced away. “I just cashed an unemployment check.”
“Keep your money. You need it more than I do.”
“I feel bad about your flat.”
“But it’s not your fault, and you helped by putting on the donut.”
He scratched his face and appeared reluctant to leave. “It’ll make me feel better if you take it.”
“That’s really sweet of you, Barry, but I can’t, not when you need the money. Besides, I have a good job that pays well.” I pulled my wallet out from my purse. “I should be the one to pay you for your time.”
“Absolutely not.” He shook his head adamantly. “But if you want to pay me back, you could have dinner with me tonight. I’m not a great cook but I know how to make grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“I’m sorry, but I have other plans tonight.”
Plus, I didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with him alone, and I wasn’t completely sure why, but I had one of those gut feelings. Maybe it was nothing. Could have been because I got the feeling he had a slight crush on me, and I didn’t feel the same way. The last thing I wanted was to lead him on in any way. But still, I tried to include everybody and hated for anyone to feel ignored or excluded.
“Maybe you’d like to have breakfast with Greg and me sometime.”
He seemed irritated at the suggestion. “I guess, but I’d rather it just be the two of us,” he said, his face turning slightly red. He stared off to the side.
Ugh. I hated being put in this situation. He was a nice guy, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “We’ll talk about it later, Barry. I’d better go. I’ve got things to do today before I visit my friend, Emily.”
He nodded. “All right. See you around.” His tone had a bite to it, and I hoped I hadn’t come across as unappreciative. I really was thankful he’d helped me out, but I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. I slid into my car and waved as I backed out of the driveway.
Once on the road, I looked in my rearview mirror, and Barry still stood in front of my house, watching me drive away.
After taking the car in for a new tire, I stopped at the grocery store to purchase ingredients for the brownies. The stop at the tire store had taken longer than I anticipated, so I didn’t have the time to make a homemade dessert. The box mix would have to do.
Once I got home, I opened my trunk to get my groceries, and my next-door neighbor, Edith Chapman, sidled up. “Good afternoon, Allison,” she said in a formal tone, though I’d learned her formality was just a generational thing.
She had blondish-white hair, perfectly styled with curls similar to a 1940s look, common for someone in their eighties. She was on the short side and appeared frail, but she was sharper than a nail as my mom liked to say whenever she visited. The way she knew details about all the neighbors reminded me of Jimmy Stewart in the movie, Rear Window. She liked to sit at her front window and knit while taking in everyone’s comings and goings. She noticed if someone’s car was in their driveway for a prolonged period and would head over to investigate. If a neighbor was sick, she was the first to figure it out and bring over a hot bowl of homemade chicken soup.
She was a sweetheart, and I loved living next door to her. I was raised to respect my elders, but more than that, I enjoyed spending time with older folk. They offered a different perspective, and they had years of experience behind their advice.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Chapman. How are you?” I picked up a bag of groceries and balanced it on one arm while turning to smile at her.
“Can’t complain, can’t complain. My arthritis is acting up again in my hip, but I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow.”
“Sorry to hear that. I hope—”
“Didn’t come over to talk about my aches and pains.” She got right to the point. “I noticed something strange and thought you ought to know.” She glanced around and then leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I saw Barry snooping around your car last night.”
I frowned. “Barry? Are you sure?”
She nodded. “He takes a walk down this street every night, always lingers on the sidewalk outside your house.”
How had I’d never seen him before? “Barry, you say? Snooping around my car?”
“My eyesight may not be what it used to be, but I’d know Barry anywhere. That big head of messy hair is hard to miss.” She glanced around again and then gave me a pointed look. “You need to be careful. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could shake a stick,” she said, voice irritable and wobbly.
“What was he doing around my car?” I suppressed a smile, having a hard time believing Barry would do anything to harm my personal property. After all, he’d helped me out today and even offered to buy a new tire.
“I couldn’t tell exactly. My view of him was blocked when he rounded the vehicle—knelt down on the ground on the driver’s side.”
I thought for a moment. “How long did he linger there?”
“A few minutes, maybe five at the most.” I was on the side of my house watering my roses, so he didn’t see me.
Five minutes didn’t seem long, but the thought of him standing or stooping there for that amount of time seemed strange. “Well, thanks for letting me know.” I frowned again. “I’m sure it was nothing. He came by earlier to help me change the tire.”
“Hmph. He’s probably the one who gave you the flat.” She narrowed her eyes. “If he comes over late at night, don’t you open that door to him. Like I said, I don’t trust him.”
A sick feeling washed over me. Perhaps she was right—I hoped not—but I needed to be careful. “Thank you, Edith. I appreciate you letting me know.”
“I’ve always done my duty as a good, responsible neighbor. No one can ever say, Edith Chapman doesn’t do good by those who do good to her.” She smiled. “And I like you, Ally. You’re good people.”
“I like you, too, Mrs. Chapman,” I said as she walked back to her house. “Thanks for the heads up.”
4
That evening as I drove to Emily and Ethan’s for dinner, I thought about Mrs. Chapman’s warning about Barry. I hated to think the worst of him, especially because he’d been nothing but nice to me. Still, I couldn’t shake the concern I’d seen on her face. Why had he stooped down next to my car? Maybe he noticed the flat and was checking it out. But then why didn’t he bring it up when he changed the tire?
I shook my head, clearing it. Time to put those thoughts away and get my brain in gear so I could meet Ethan’s friend. I didn’t have high expectations or anything—I’d learned a long time ago that putting all your hope into a potential date was much like putting all your ingredients into one cake. It came out a big sloppy mess.
Shaking off any lingering nerves, I parked my car in front of the house and reapplied my lipstick one last time. Running my hand through my hair, I let out a sigh. I looked . . . okayish. The incident with the tire had set me back a little, so I hadn’t had much time to primp. Not that I ever primped. I usually had more of a natural glow, but I had hoped to look my best this evening.
I squared my shoulders and gave my hair a little toss before getting out of the car with a plate of brownies covered by foil. Striding to the front door, my boots clicked on the cement like I was a woman with a purpose. I rang the doorbell and stepped back, waiting for Emily to answer.
After a minute passed, I knocked this time. The door swung open and very familiar blue eyes stared back at me—eyes I would never forget.
Eyes that looked very confused at the moment.
“You,” Officer Murphy said.
I just stared, completely dazed, not expecting to see him again. What were the odds? I couldn’t believe he was Ethan’s friend. He wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt that contrasted with his olive complexion, a much more casual look from the stiff uniform he wore yesterday. I must have been staring because he chuckled and glanced down, scraping a hand over his chin. “Do you plan on saying anything or are we going to stare at each other for a little while longer?”
I snapped out of it and pulled myself together. “Hello, Officer Murphy.” Unfortunately, that was about as good as I could do at the moment.
He flashed a cocky grin, revealing the dimples on both sides of his mouth. “It’s Bronson. And what can I do for you?”
He probably thought I tracked him down. For a second, I felt like a kid in elementary school hitting up the neighbors to buy candy for a school fundraiser. Clearly, he hadn’t expected anyone or he would have welcomed me inside already.
I cleared my throat. “Emily invited me to dinner, and I’m going to take a giant leap and guess you’re Ethan’s friend. She said you might be here tonight.”
He chuckled. “Said I might be here?” He emphasized “might” like he knew I’d been telling a fib—which maybe I had been a little since there was no question one of Ethan’s friends would be at the home this evening. I just hadn’t known it would be Bronson.
“Well, she said Ethan’s friend would definitely be here.”
“Uh huh.” He wiped a hand over his face and rolled his eyes. “Figures she’d try one more time.”
What did he mean by that? “Forgive me, but you are Ethan’s friend, right? You’re not in uniform, so I’m assuming you aren’t here to take a report or anything.”
“No, I’m off duty. And I’m gonna take a huge leap as well—correct me if I’m wrong—and guess you’re Emily’s third attempt to find me a girlfriend.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Someone put me out of my misery,” he said more to himself than to me. “Why can’t people understand I’m not looking for a relationship?”
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