Won't You Be My Neighbor?

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “Fine,” Sully said. He sank into his couch and crossed his arms over his chest. Gilly rested his head on his knee and sighed in an attempt to urge Sully to scratch his ears.

  “I don’t think you’re fine. I think you miss Blair. Tyler said you guys aren’t talking.”

  “Are you seriously trying to tell me that we’re being spied on by teenagers?”

  “Someone has to do it,” Pru said. “Something happened between you guys. Tyler says you went from being inseparable and laughing and talking all the time to no contact. And a few days ago when I saw Blair, I asked her about you and she went all silent like she had classified information or something.”

  “You saw Blair? How did she look? Did she seem upset?” This is what his life had become—fishing for information from his seventeen-year-old niece. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you know, was she okay?”

  “No. She was acting funny, all standoffish and sad.”

  “She’s quiet,” he said.

  “This was different. I’ve talked with her a few times. Something is up with her. And since you’re a man, I figure it must be you. What did you do?”

  “Nothing!” Sully exclaimed, and then thought better of it. “I’m not having this discussion with you. You’re a kid. I’m not desperate enough to seek advice from someone half my age.”

  “Fine,” Pru said. “I’ll tell mom you’re having woman trouble. She’ll probably show up with as many of the sisters as she can gather. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you hash it out.”

  Sully fought a shudder over that thought. “You’re diabolical,” he accused.

  She sat beside him on the couch. “C’mon. I’m not as much of a dumb kid as you want to believe, and I’m a woman. I like Blair. Maybe I can help.” She gave his knee a reassuring pat as if he were an errant toddler. At any other time, Sully would have been annoyed by that, but he was desperate for her help, for anyone’s help. He had no idea what he did wrong with Blair, and he missed her terribly.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he stubbornly insisted. “I told her I wanted to be with her.”

  Pru tipped her head, studying him. “How did you tell her?”

  He repeated the conversation for her almost verbatim. He had it memorized from going over and over it in his head. By the end, Pru was shaking her head in either disbelief or disapproval. “Sully!” she exclaimed.

  “What? I told her I wanted to be with her. How could that possibly be wrong?”

  “It’s the way you told her, like you were arranging a business deal. That’s horrible.”

  “Why? Blair is a rational, thoughtful person. I was appealing to her cerebral nature.”

  “No woman wants to think of her cerebral nature when it comes to love. Where’s the romance? Where’s the adventure?” Pru asked.

  “Blair doesn’t want that stuff.”

  “Is she a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then she wants that stuff.”

  Pru left soon after because Sully was lost in his own little world. He stared off into space, thinking. Was what Pru said true? In an effort to appeal to Blair’s sensible nature, had he bungled everything? Yes, he decided. He had. But he had a sensible nature, too. He wasn’t a romantic. How was he supposed to win her over if he didn’t know what to do? He pulled out a piece of paper and pen to begin brainstorming ways to woo Miss Prim.

  Blair was sound asleep when she heard it—someone was pounding on her door. A quick glance at the clock showed it to be one in the morning. She was so startled she forgot to grab a robe. Instead she hurried to the entryway, the silky peach nightgown barely skimming her thighs. She stood on her toes to peep through the window before cracking open the door.

  “Sully?”

  He stood on her porch shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants and no socks or shoes. “There’s someone in my house. Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he shimmied through the small opening and stopped short in the entryway, staring.

  “Peach,” he muttered. “This is going to do battle with the white one in my head.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Someone broke into your house,” she clarified, trying to get back to the original subject.

  “There was a noise. I assumed it was a burglar. I fled.”

  “Without Gilly?”

  “He’s asleep. I didn’t want to scare him unnecessarily if it turned out to be nothing.” As he talked, he walked, herding her toward the living room.

  “Do you want to use my phone to call the police?” Her knees bumped the couch and buckled. She sat.

  Sully sat beside her. “Maybe in a minute.” He reached for her, drawing her close. “It was really scary. Just let me rest a minute and get my breath back.”

  He held her tightly, molding them together as he pressed his face to her neck and inhaled. “You smell as good as you look.” His lips brushed her skin. Blair felt what little resolve she had weaken.

  “You seem fine to me,” she said, and now she was the one who sounded breathless.

  “Do I?” He pulled back slightly, took her hand, and pressed it to his heart; it was racing. “I don’t feel fine. I feel pretty miserable. I miss you.” His other hand pressed her cheek. He was going to kiss her. She wasn’t going to protest. She closed her eyes and suddenly he was gone.

  Her eyes fluttered open. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re right. It was probably nothing. Thanks for the safe haven.” He gave her one last sweet smile, turned, and let himself out.

  Blair sat on the couch for a long time, trying and failing to guess what it had all been about.

  Chapter 14

  Two days later, Sully showed up on her doorstep again, tray in hand. “I baked some cookies to thank you for the other night.”

  “You baked cookies,” she said.

  “I have twelve sisters; learning to bake was inevitable.”

  “Um, okay. Thank you.” She held out her hands for the tray.

  “It’s heavy. I’d better carry it for you.” He followed her to the kitchen and set the tray on the counter. “I didn’t get to taste test before I brought these. Do you have coffee? I would hate to leave these if they’re inedible.”

  “Coffee,” she said, leveling him with a gaze. “You want me to make coffee.”

  “You don’t have to. I didn’t leave any of these for myself, but I don’t need any.” He patted his stomach. “Got to stop that middle-age spread.”

  Blair rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll make coffee.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Sit.” She pointed at the table. Sully sat.

  “If you insist,” he said, all humility now.

  Blair was too quiet and polite to slam the coffee accessories, but she wasn’t smiling as she set out a flowered china cup and saucer. Sully was, though. He tried to suppress it as he watched her remove cookies from the plain glass tray he had brought and arrange them on one of her pretty platters. She set the coffee and cookies before him in the same way that butlers in England probably arrange tea for the queen. Good manners compelled her to sit, but he could tell she didn’t want to.

  “So, how are you?” he reached for a cookie and took a bite, swallowing before he added, “I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

  “I’ve been busy,” she said.

  “Have you been working?”

  “Some,” she said.

  “I haven’t seen you with Mrs. Caruthers,” he said.

  “She’s been busy with the senior center.”

  “Pru and Tyler haven’t seen you either.”

  “They have each other.”

  “Did you have lunch with Susan this week?” he asked. He sipped the coffee and set it delicately back on its plate.

  “I was busy.”

  “And you didn’t go to your mysterious Monday appointment,” he noted.

  “Something came up,” she said.

  Sully studied her
, noting that her smile and sparkle were gone. She wasn’t one of those people who walked into a room and grabbed attention, lighting it with her presence. But she had an inner light, a still small glow that drew him in and gave off warmth. Now it was gone, replaced by shutters and impenetrable walls. Why was she pushing him away?

  He withdrew something from his pocket and set it on the table between them. “Someone at work couldn’t use his symphony tickets. I thought maybe we could go.”

  That drew her interest, at least briefly. “Symphony?”

  He nodded. “Orchestra seats that are so good we could probably go deaf from the violins.”

  The light faded again. “I don’t…” she began, but he interrupted.

  “It’s not for two weeks. Think about it.”

  “Sully,” she tried again.

  This time he interrupted her with a kiss. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to hers. His lips lingered longer than he intended, searching for a response. There was none. “Thanks for the coffee.” He got up and let himself out, leaving Blair to once again puzzle over his odd behavior.

  Two days later, Blair was out of milk. She stared at the empty container in frustration. She had tried hard not to leave the house for the last couple of weeks. How much did she need milk anyway? Was it worth it to leave her fortress of solitude, or could she survive on dry cereal? A quick check of the cereal showed she was low on that, too.

  With a sigh, she grabbed her keys and purse and headed outside. And that was when she saw him. Sully lay on the ground beside his ladder. He wasn’t moving. After an initial burst of fear and adrenaline, Blair averted her eyes. She refused to get caught up in whatever game he was playing today.

  She was almost at her car when she changed her mind. What if he wasn’t playing? What if he really had fallen off the ladder? She would check and then she would leave. As she crept closer, she saw no signs of life or movement. “Sully.” Was he breathing? She couldn’t tell. She knelt and pressed her palm to his chest. It moved. His lashes fluttered.

  “Miss P?”

  Blair breathed a sigh of relief that was quickly replaced by anger. “What are you doing?”

  “I guess I’m too old to scale ladders,” he said. For good measure, he added a self-deprecating smile.

  “You have to stop this,” she said.

  He nodded his agreement. “I’ll have Tyler take care of the gutters from now on.”

  “No, I mean you have to stop whatever game you’re playing.”

  “What are you talking about?” His face was the picture of guileless innocence.

  “Showing up in the middle of the night in your pajamas, bringing me cookies, pretending to fall off your ladder. You have to stop.”

  “It worked for you. I wanted it to work for me.”

  “What worked?” she asked.

  “Somehow you took a guy who had sworn off women forever and made him fall hopelessly in love with you. You’re all I think about lately, Blair. I’ve become borderline creepy since we met. I watch your house, wondering what you’re up to. Every time I read a foot x-ray, I think of your perfect feet.”

  “That’s weird,” Blair inserted.

  “I know, and I can’t help it. You’re funny, and sweet, and smart, and cute. You smell amazing. I’ve become like a teenager again, just waiting and hoping for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of you. I messed things up when I was trying to explain the other day, but I meant what I said then. We’re well-suited to each other. We get each other. We’re friends, and I love you—sort of desperately.” He covered her hand where it lay on his chest and gave her a sweet, hopeful smile. She pulled her hand away and settled it in her lap.

  “Sully, I wish you hadn’t done all this. It makes it that much harder to tell you I can’t.” Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

  He lay on the ground and watched as she stood and dashed back to her house. This time when he closed his eyes and couldn’t catch his breath, he wasn’t faking. He felt like someone who had just taken a dive off a ladder and landed on his chest, cracking his heart into a million pieces.

  Later that night, Blair couldn’t sleep. She kept replaying the scene with Sully. Each time she did tears sprang to her eyes and stuck. If only she could cry. She had tried. After their conversation, she sat on her couch, squinted her eyes, and whimpered. The tears wouldn’t budge. They were lodged somewhere deep inside, held under lock and key, ruled by her rigid self-control.

  It was that same self-control that made her walk away from Sully. There had been a part of her that wanted to sprawl on him and beg him to accept her, glaring flaws and all. But she couldn’t. She was broken, unable to connect, unable to cross the divide that separated her from the rest of the normal world.

  Tristan, the one person who had any chance of helping her fix the breach, was now gone, lost to her forever because of his own bad habit. Blair had thought he was perfect. Learning that he didn’t wash his hands after using the bathroom had been akin to learning that he clubbed puppies for fun. How could she accept advice from someone who was too broken to fix her? Why try when the inevitable result would be the same? She had made strides, but she would never be like other people. Her introversion was too entrenched.

  So she gave up. She canceled her appointment with Tristan, canceled her lunch with Susan, didn’t take Tanya’s call, stopped visiting Mrs. Caruthers, and pretended she wasn’t home when Tyler and Pru stopped by. Settling back into her old lifestyle was easy, except for one thing—Sully.

  Blair missed him with an ache that wouldn’t go away. She stared at his house. She listened for his car. She remembered his scent, his laugh, and the taste and feel of his lips. Yet, as much as she missed him, she couldn’t close the gap between them. When she thought about opening herself up to a relationship, to marriage, love, and all the things that went with it, she was petrified. She couldn’t make the final leap, couldn’t give him a hundred percent. It was better to give nothing.

  When she heard glass break in her entryway, she experienced a bad case of déjà vu. She sat up and strained her ears, only this time she didn’t feel afraid; she felt angry. Sully was taking things too far. What if she called the police? He could be shot. Or, worse, what if he had involved Tyler in his scheme so Sully could be the one who came to her rescue? Using an innocent teenager was beyond dangerous.

  Blair picked up the phone and dialed his number. He answered on the fourth ring and even managed to sound groggy. Blair rolled her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

  “Sleeping,” he said. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

  “Sully, this is getting ridiculous. You are paying for that glass, and maybe for the whole door. I can’t believe you would do this.”

  “Blair…”

  She couldn’t let him interrupt before she released the head of steam she had built. As she left her bedroom, she threw on the hall light and headed toward the living room. “And if I find out that you have involved Tyler and Pru…” her voice faded as she stepped into the living room and turned on the light. A man stared at her, frozen, a crowbar in one hand and one of Blair’s silver picture frames in the other. He was dressed in black and, even though he was wearing a ski mask, she could tell he was neither Sully nor Tyler.

  “Sully,” she managed to croak. “That’s not you.”

  “I’m coming,” Sully said. He sounded like he was running.

  The man glanced from the frame in his hand to his crowbar and back at Blair again, and then he turned and fled, dropping and cracking the picture frame in his wake as he disappeared into the inky blackness of the night.

  Sully appeared in his place, filling the doorway with his comforting presence. He wore only a pair of boxers, his hair a tousled mess. “I’m calling the police,” he said.

  Blair nodded and closed her phone, but she didn’t move. She remained frozen, rooted to the spot. Inside, however, her mind and emotions were on warp drive, sending her i
mage after image of what might have been. She might have been killed. Sully might have been killed as he came to her rescue. In light of possible death, nothing else seemed important. The gripping, paralyzing fear that had held her captive for so long shattered like the glass in her picture frame. Freedom, Blair thought.

  She was free, free to cross the emotional divide she had placed between herself and the rest of the world. She was free to cry. The realization came with a truckload of tears. Unfortunately, her tears coincided with the arrival of the police. Tim was on duty. He ushered her to the couch and tried to take a cohesive statement. She finally managed to give a description of the man. Tim, being the sort of man who was galvanized by a woman in tears, stayed with Blair, gently patting her shoulder as she tried to get herself back under control.

  A half an hour later, the other officers in the area located the burglar. He was crouched under a patio, cornered by a neighborhood dog. They took him into custody. Blair finally pulled herself together enough to write a statement. Tim and the other officers took their leave and that was when Blair realized Sully was gone, too. When had he slipped away? While she was crying on Tim’s shoulder?

  She faced a moment of indecision. Should she go to Sully now and try to explain her sudden change of heart or should she wait until morning? Her tears were spent and she was once again thinking rationally, but how did one make amends after making such a monumental mess of everything? Should she wait until morning? She didn’t want to wake him up if he had fallen back asleep.

  Blair peered through her kitchen window and saw Sully looking back at her from his kitchen window. He quickly turned away as if he had been caught with his hand in the till. Blair smiled—tonight, she would definitely go tonight.

  She dashed from her house, not bothering to close the door behind her. She remembered when she reached his porch, but what did it matter? The glass was shattered anyway. She tapped on his door. Her touch was timid but impatient as she rapped over and over again, hurrying him along. Sully cracked the door and viewed her with one eye. Even so, she could sense his wariness.