Next to Me

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Next to Me Page 5

by Allie Everhart


  "I prefer to eat alone," she blurts out, like it's the first excuse she could come up with.

  "If you don't like me, you can just say so." I smile at her. "Although I don't know why you wouldn't like me. I'm friendly. Helpful. And I can fix shit."

  She raises her brows. "Do you always compliment yourself like that?"

  "Only when I'm trying to get my neighbor to eat lunch with me. Do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you keep trying to get rid of me?"

  "No." Her eyes lower to the counter. "And I'm not trying to get rid of you. I'm just not used to..." She looks up. "Never mind. We can have lunch. Just let me finish up in back."

  "Sounds good."

  As she leaves, I notice Lou is behind the counter again, but on the other end. He was watching us. I catch his eye and he looks away, focusing on a woman who just sat down and is now asking him a question.

  A few minutes later, Callie appears with a reuben and a grilled cheese. She sets the reuben in front of me and the grilled cheese in the spot next to me.

  "Lou said I could take my break a few minutes early," she says as she fills up two glasses with Coke from the dispenser. She sets them down by our plates. "You need anything else?"

  "No. This is good. Thanks." I wait for her to go around the counter and sit down. "Did you make these?"

  "Lou made them. He makes all the lunch food. I just make the desserts. Actually, he makes those too. I just portion them out and bake them. He has all these secret recipes he doesn't want anyone to see. Even me."

  That last part implies that Lou sees her as more than an employee. I wonder if they're somehow related.

  "Is Lou your uncle?" He seems too old to be her uncle but you never know.

  She laughs. "No. Why'd you think he's my uncle?"

  "The way you two interact, I thought maybe you were related."

  "Nope. We're not related. He's just old and likes to boss me around like I'm his kid."

  "How long have you worked here?" I ask.

  "Almost a year." She cringes. "I mean...if you added up the summers it'd be about a year."

  That was odd. Why'd she react that way? And who adds up the summers? Most people would just say they worked here for three summers or however many it was.

  "So your family lives here all summer?"

  "Yeah," she says quickly.

  "Your parents don't work in the summer?"

  "No. They're both teachers. So what was wrong with your lawn mower?"

  I guess she doesn't like talking about her family. Every time I mention them she changes the subject.

  "One of the parts was rusted out. It's an easy fix. I'll be able to mow by this afternoon."

  "Thank God." She bites into her sandwich.

  I smile. "Are you saying you're tired of the weeds?"

  "It's like a jungle over there. I was about ready to mow it myself but I was afraid of what I might find in there."

  "I'm surprised your parents didn't call and report it to the city. People get fined for having weeds that big in a residential area."

  "Do you like the sandwich?" she asks, changing the subject.

  "Yeah, it's good." I take another bite and we sit in silence a moment as we eat. "I'm going to have to eat out every meal until I get a new fridge. The old one's dead. I plugged it in and it wouldn't even turn on. And I'm sure the stove doesn't work. I think Gramps only used the microwave. It's the newest appliance in the kitchen."

  "He was really thin. I don't think he ate much. My mom would sometimes bring him—" She stops suddenly, then takes a drink of her Coke.

  "Bring him what?"

  "Um...just whatever we were having for dinner. She invited him over a few times but he turned her down so she'd bring him a plate of whatever we were eating."

  "That was nice of her. I'll have to thank her."

  Callie wipes her mouth with a napkin then slides off the stool. "I need to get back to work."

  "We just sat down."

  "I know but I have things to do." She takes her plate and goes behind the counter. She seems nervous, agitated.

  "Callie."

  "What?" she asks, still holding her plate.

  "Would you please come sit down? I won't ask you any more questions if that's what's making you nervous."

  "I'm not nervous," she says defensively.

  "Would you sit down?" I point to my plate. "I still have half a sandwich left and I don't like eating alone."

  She hesitates, then gets an annoyed look on her face and walks back around the counter, setting her plate down. "You're not always going to have someone to eat with." She gazes down at her half-eaten sandwich. "Or is someone coming to live with you in that house?"

  "Nope. It's just me."

  "Then you're going to have to get used to eating alone." She picks up a potato chip, then drops it back on her plate.

  "Why would I eat alone? I've got you right next door."

  "What?" Her head whips toward me. "I'm not eating with you."

  "Sure you are. In fact, you're having dinner with me tonight. I'm ordering pizza."

  "Excuse me?" She huffs out a breath. "I'm not having dinner with you, especially after you just said it like it was a given. You didn't even ask."

  "I would've, but I told you I wouldn't ask you any questions. So I had no choice but to make a declarative statement."

  "A declarative statement? That's what you call it?"

  "I don't know what you're implying." I eat the last of my chips, then rub my hands over my plate, dusting the salt off.

  "You were trying to get a date with me but were too much of a coward to ask, so you just said it like it was a given, assuming I'd go along with it." She faces forward, shoving her plate aside and sliding her drink toward her.

  I lean over and talk close to her ear. "If I wanted to go on a date with you, I'd have no problem asking." I sit up straight again. "It's just dinner. Not a date. We'll eat out on the deck. It's the only part of the house that isn't piled up with clutter. It's covered in dirt but I'll clean it off when I get back."

  Her eyes are still facing forward. "I didn't agree to it."

  "Well, you've got five hours to decide. I'll be on the deck at six, with pizza and cold beer." I grab a clean napkin and set my brownie on it. "I think I'll take this to go." I get up from the stool. "Thanks for having lunch with me."

  She finally looks at me. "Sure." She smiles a little. "Good luck with the lawn mower. Those weeds better be mowed down when I get back."

  "I'll do my best. See ya." I wave at Lou as I leave. "Great lunch. Thanks!"

  He nods at me. "Stop by tomorrow."

  "Will do," I say, smiling over at Callie. I caught her staring at me but she quickly turned away.

  I doubt she'll show up for dinner. She probably already has plans. Maybe she's going out with her friends.

  As I'm crossing the street to my truck, I pass a woman talking on her phone. She's so into her conversation, she's not even checking for cars. I shake my head, annoyed at her carelessness. That's how people get killed. Distracted by their damn phones.

  I look back at her and see a car turning, coming right at her. I run up to her, grab her around the waist, and yank her back as the guy driving the car lays on his horn.

  "Get out of the road, lady!" he yells as he speeds by.

  "Oh my God!" she says, dropping her phone. "That car almost hit me."

  "You okay?" I ask, checking her over. She's young, probably in her twenties, with long blond hair, wearing a flowery dress and high-heeled sandals. She's pretty and smells of expensive perfume, like the kind Marissa used to wear.

  "Thank you," she says, smoothing out her dress. "You saved my life."

  "He probably would've seen you, but I wanted to make sure you were safe."

  She glances at the corner, then back at me. "I think that van was blocking his view. He would've hit me for sure if you hadn't saved me."

  "Well, you seem to be okay so I'm going to get going." I pick her phone up from the groun
d and hand it to her. "You really shouldn't use that when you're crossing the street. It's too distracting."

  "Wait!" she says as I'm walking to my truck. She catches up to me. "I need to repay you somehow. Can I buy you lunch?"

  "I just had lunch." I look down and see my brownie now smashed on the ground. I must've dropped it when I ran over to save the girl.

  She sees me looking at it. "Was that yours? I'll buy you a new one. I'm sure Lou has some left. I'll get you a whole dozen, or whatever you want."

  "No, thanks. I'm good."

  "Please." She holds my arm. "I have to do something. I might be dead right now if it weren't for you." She pauses. "Do you golf?"

  "Now and then. Why?"

  "My father owns the country club on the other side of town. I could get you a membership for the summer."

  So that's why she has that expensive perfume. She's rich.

  A membership at her father's country club is probably worth thousands of dollars, but I'm not interested. I've been to country clubs in Chicago with a few of our wealthy clients and didn't like it. Everyone there was a snob. They took one look at my cheap golf clubs and knew I wasn't one of them and treated me like shit.

  "Thanks, but I won't have time for golf. I'll be working all summer."

  "Where do you work?"

  "I'm renovating a house over on Sycamore Lane."

  "Oh." She adjusts her purse on her shoulder. "I thought those were all being torn down."

  The way she said it, it's like she thinks they should be torn down, but I'm sure a lot of people think that. Even Callie thinks my house should be demolished.

  "I don't know about the other houses on the street, but mine's not being torn down. Anyway, I need to get back to work." I turn and head to my truck.

  "Which house is it?" she calls out.

  "Freeson's," I call back, certain she doesn't know who that is. It sounds like my grandfather was a hermit, so I doubt anyone knew his name.

  "I'm Katie," she says as I pull out of the parking space.

  My window is down and I stop briefly and say, "I'm Nash. See you around." And then I drive off.

  Normally, I'd stick around and talk to her and might even end up asking her out. She seems like a nice girl and she's definitely nice to look at, but I've got someone else on my mind right now. Callie, who is also nice to look at. She's not particularly nice, at least not to me, but she seems like someone who takes a while to warm up to people. She just needs to get to know me, which she will if she shows up for dinner tonight.

  When I get back to the house, I notice how quiet it is. There's no activity on the street. Nobody around. It's almost too quiet. Growing up with three brothers and working in construction, I'm used to being surrounded by noise and chaos, and living in Chicago, I always had people around me. The house here is isolated with a forest of trees in the back and just a few houses on either side of me, most of which are uninhabited.

  I put the new part in the lawn mower and it starts right up. It struggles through the thick weeds but still manages to cut them down. After just a couple passes, the yard is already looking better. I smile at that. I love seeing old forgotten properties come back to life. And I love being the one responsible for that. That's the best part of the renovation business; bringing something that's been forgotten and neglected back to life. It leaves you with a good feeling. A really good feeling.

  Chapter Five

  Callie

  Katie Kryer has been here for almost an hour and I want to close up but Lou won't tell her to leave because her dad is rich and powerful and Lou doesn't want to piss him off. Her dad is Jonathan Kryer and he owns the country club but is also on city council, which means he can make life hell for business owners that get on his bad side. I know nothing about small town politics but when I hear Lou talk about it, it sounds like one big ongoing soap opera. Lou tries to lay low and stay out of trouble, which is why he'll let daddy's little girl sit here as long as she wants, babbling nonstop on her phone.

  "Miss!" She waves her hand at me as I wipe down tables. "Just a minute," she says to whoever's on the phone.

  "Yes?" I say, plastering on a smile.

  "I need a dozen brownies to go." She smiles, then continues talking to the person on the phone. "Okay, go ahead."

  "We're out of brownies," I say, but she doesn't hear me so I stand there and wait.

  She keeps talking to her friend as she gets her wallet out. "Yeah, I know. I totally agree." She hands me her credit card.

  "No, I don't need money. I was saying—" I stop when she holds her hand up at me.

  "Hold on," she says into her phone, then looks at me, annoyed. "What is it?"

  "We don't have any more brownies. We sold out of them an hour ago."

  "Can't you make more?"

  "Sorry, but we're closing." I glance at the clock on the wall. "Actually, we closed a half hour ago."

  She sighs. "But I really need those brownies."

  "You could come back tomorrow."

  "Where's Lou?" She stands up and talks to her friend before I can answer. "Bree, I'll have to call you back."

  Katie walks past me, straight through to the kitchen. What the hell?

  About a minute later, she comes back out, on the phone again. Lou is behind her.

  "Callie, can I speak with you a minute?"

  "Yeah," I say as Katie returns to her seat.

  Lou and I go in the kitchen and he says, "I told you to be nice to her."

  "I WAS nice. Why? What did she say to you?"

  "She said you were rude."

  "I was NOT rude to her. If anything, she was rude to me. I kept trying to talk to her but she wouldn't get off her damn phone."

  "She said you refused to take her order."

  I throw my hands up. "Because we're closed! And she's been here enough times to know that. She asked for brownies and I told her we're out. That's not being rude."

  "If Katie Kryer wants brownies, we will make more brownies."

  I huff in anger. "Are you serious? I just scrubbed the entire kitchen. Everything's put away. And now we're going to get everything out again to make twelve brownies because we can't say no to the little princess?"

  "Quiet! She'll hear you."

  "I don't care if she hears me. She's a spoiled brat, and if she doesn't know that, then someone needs to tell her."

  "Callie, stop it right now." He holds my shoulders. "This is my business and I can't have you getting me in trouble."

  "I'm not getting you in trouble. I just don't understand why—"

  "This is how business works. You suck up to the people in charge and try not to make waves. Otherwise they put you out of business. I'm not a rich man, Callie. If I lose the business, I won't be able to pay my bills."

  It infuriates me that a handful of people have so much control, but I can't do anything about it and I'd never do anything to hurt Lou or his business.

  I nod. "Okay. Got it."

  He steps back and ties his apron, which was hanging loose because he'd just put it on. "You can go home. I'll finish up."

  "But I still have a half hour left. And I'm not done with the tables."

  "I'll do the tables. I don't want you out there with Katie."

  "I promise I'll be nice," I say, even though I already was nice. "You get started on the brownies."

  As I leave I hear Lou behind me. "Callie?" I turn back and see the stern look on his face.

  "Yes. I'll be nice. I promise."

  I return to the dining room, smiling at Katie as I go back to the table I was wiping down. She doesn't even notice me, her hands waving around as she talks to her friend.

  "You should've seen him," she says. "He was so hot, in that blue collar type of way. All muscular and tan." She laughs. "My father would hate him." She nods. "Yeah, I told him I'd get him a membership." She listens, then laughs again. "I have a feeling he's definitely good at that. Maybe I'll find out tonight." She smiles and twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "Oh, I f
orgot to tell you. I got us that spa appointment at..."

  She keeps talking but I tune her out and focus on wiping tables. I finish all of them except for Katie's table. She's got her purse on it and she'll probably get mad if I make her move it.

  I stand by the counter, feeling uneasy, my hands tapping my sides. I need to clean that table. It's part of my routine and if I don't finish the routine I'll feel anxious the rest of the day and night. Dammit. I close my eyes and wish for her to disappear or just move to a different table, but when I open my eyes, she's still there.

  That table has to be cleaned. It has to. I take my rag and walk over there. She ignores me, still on the phone. I wipe half the table.

  "What are you doing?" she yells, grabbing her purse. "You almost got my purse wet!"

  "Sorry, I just wanted to clean your table." I quickly wipe the other side.

  "It's clean," she says, shooing me away.

  At least I finished the tables. Now I can go home.

  "Bye, Lou," I say, dropping the wet rags in the laundry bin.

  The brownies are in the oven and he's making the frosting.

  "Any plans for tonight?" he asks.

  He knows I never go out, yet he still always asks me this, hoping my answer will change.

  "Just the usual," I say.

  He whisks more powdered sugar into the frosting. "You still have that invite to dinner."

  "How'd you know about that?"

  He gives me a funny look. "Because I was the one who invited you."

  When he mentioned dinner, I thought he meant with Nash. I forgot Lou asked me to dinner.

  "Yeah." I let out a nervous laugh. "I was just kidding. I can't go. Sorry."

  He eyes me. "Who else invited you to dinner?"

  "No one." I rip my apron off and add it to the laundry.

  "Was it your new neighbor?"

  "What new neighbor?" I grab my purse from the drawer.

  "The one you had lunch with." He walks toward me while whisking the frosting in the bowl.

  "Why would I eat dinner with him? He's just a neighbor. We're not friends."

  "Could you give him something for me?" He sets the bowl down and goes in his office.

  "Um, I don't think I'll—"

  "Here." Lou hands me a pie, all boxed up and ready to go. "Chocolate Cream."

 

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