Harper sucked in a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m so worried about this.”
He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. We’re in a new place surrounded by new people. You’re probably just homesick.” He grabbed the wine from the shelf by the stairs and pulled open the door. “Come on now,” he said, patting her bottom as she walked past him.
They walked down their porch stairs and across the large front yard. Harper looked up at the sky, taking in a deep breath. “You don’t see nights like this in Chicago, that’s for sure.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I didn’t realize how much I missed the stars.”
She smiled, pulling his arm down so they were holding hands. She had to admit, the neighborhood was beautiful. Their house sat at the end of a subdivision with few houses around them. In fact, other than Tori and Jason’s, the next nearest house was at the end of the block. The paved streets were well maintained, and there were pruned trees lining each driveway.
She should feel comfortable, she knew. There were people who would love to have this much space. This much space in Chicago would’ve cost a fortune. They’d gotten the house for a steal here, way below market value, and it had been a no-brainer. But, she didn’t feel comfortable yet. Harper had always been a city girl. She felt safe there. She could breathe when there was no room to breathe. Somehow, here with all the air in the world, she felt suffocated.
Before she could dwell on it too much, they’d made it across their lawn and were walking up the short drive to the white house. The front porch was quaint—more beautiful up close, much like its inhabitants—with two white rocking chairs and cute, red cushions filling their seats. In between the chairs sat a white wicker table with an antique watering can. The house literally could’ve come from a magazine.
Bryant released her hand before knocking on the door, and the porch light flicked on in an instant. The solid black door, its beveled glass window at the top, opened quickly, and Jason stood in front of them.
“Hey guys,” he greeted them warmly, holding out a hand to shake Bryant’s as if they were old friends. He ushered them into the elegant living room, shutting the door behind them. “Welcome! Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”
Harper took in the home: its large fireplace with distressed-wood mantel; the black, leather sectional and recliner that looked as if they had been shipped in just that day; the large, flat screen television that adorned the wall. Their home was, of course, perfect, and Harper let out a gasp before she realized it had happened.
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Perks of marrying a doctor, right?” He placed his hands in his pockets, shrugging.
Harper nodded, her lips pressed together. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said simply. “Hey, what can I get you guys to drink? We’ve got everything…beer, wine—red and white—sparkling water, and sweet tea. We are Southern, after all. What will it be?”
“Oh, um, white wine will be fine,” Harper said politely.
“Beer for me,” Bryant answered. “Man, what size is that TV?”
“Uh, I think it’s like ninety inches or something,” Jason said with a laugh. “You guys come on in here,” he told them as he made his way into the kitchen. “Tori will be down any minute, and then we can eat.”
“It smells amazing,” Bryant told him as they made their way into the equally breathtaking kitchen. Brass fixtures and black and white marble countertops—of course, it was gorgeous.
“Oh, well, we can’t take credit for it. I hope you guys like ribeyes. We order from this great little place across town. The best steak you’ll ever eat.”
“Oh, man, that sounds amazing,” Bryant said happily. Harper couldn’t help noticing how eager to please their new neighbors he was.
“I was thinking we could eat on the patio tonight.” Tori’s voice came from behind them. Harper spun around to see their host. She was dressed in a plain, black, off-the-shoulder jumpsuit, her white-blonde hair slicked back, lips pale in comparison to her dark eye makeup. She looked very New York to be from such a small town.
“Oh, okay,” Jason said, quickly gathering the plates from the table. “That sounds great.” Why was he equally as eager to please his wife? Harper guessed when you had a wife that looked like Tori, you would be.
They followed Tori out the back set of French doors and onto a patio lit by tiki torches and took a seat at the table waiting for them. Jason set the plates down, hurrying back inside and returning moments later with their food and drinks.
“Wow, this looks delicious,” Harper said, and she really meant it. She waited for someone else to begin eating—of course it was Bryant—before she picked up her fork.
“So, Harper, you said you work at the hospital. Have they given you a shift yet?” Tori asked, taking the tiniest bite Harper had ever seen.
“Yeah, I’m swinging between firsts and seconds for a while.”
“Oh, rough,” Tori said, pushing her lips to one side of her mouth. “You know, Randall owes me a favor. I could see about pulling some strings to get you on days permanently if you want.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Harper told her, probably too quickly. “Honestly, I don’t mind.”
“You are a better woman than me. I couldn’t handle it. I need my beauty sleep,” Tori said with a laugh.
“Really? I wouldn’t think as a surgeon you would get much sleep.”
“Oh, I don’t work at the hospital,” she said, chewing up a bit of food before she finished her sentence. “No, I own my own clinic. It’s just across the street, though I do get called in for consults from time to time. So, I’m sure you’ll see me around.” She smiled. “It’s nice to have a friend when you’re someplace new.”
Harper smiled, trying to read her expression, though for the first time it seemed genuine. “Are you both from here?” she asked. Tori looked at Jason, their faces growing somewhat bleak. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s none of my business, honestly.”
“No,” Tori said, looking back her way and placing her fork down. “It’s okay. Really, it is. It’s just…it’s a tough subject, you know? Jay and I…well, he grew up in Tennessee. I was a foster child. I’d bounced around from home to home until his family took me in when I was sixteen.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “So, to answer your question, no we’re not from here, but I moved around so much as a kid I never really know what to say when I’m asked where it is I’m from.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Harper told her, her face growing warm from embarrassment. Foster siblings that had gotten married? Was that even allowed? It seemed odd, but she had no time to dwell on it because Tori was talking again, interrupting her thoughts.
“No, there’s no need to be. Honestly,” Tori let go of her husband’s hand and reached for Harper’s, “it’s okay. It was a long time ago, and you couldn’t have known. Besides, my story has a happy ending. That’s all that really matters.”
Harper nodded, feeling awkward as Tori held her hand for a bit longer. When she finally released it, but before Harper could look away, she noticed Tori wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath, realizing she’d been caught.
“Sorry. It’s…old memories.” She tried to laugh through her tears as she stood from the table. “Excuse me for just a minute.”
“Of course—” Harper said, though it fell on deaf ears as Tori was already back inside before she’d finished speaking. “I’m so sorry. I feel awful,” she told Jason before looking at her husband who looked equally mortified.
“Don’t be,” he said. “Tori…she seems cold, I know, but she’s had a rough go of things. Her childhood was really bad. She doesn’t like to talk about it. Even I don’t know everything.” He paused, taking a breath. “Look, I know it’s an awkward situation, but she’s not mad at you. You couldn’t have known. She just gets upset thinking of all she’s gone through. I guess what I�
��m saying is, please don’t write her off. She could use a friend. Someone normal. She’s surrounded by all those stuffy doctors at work and…well, she’s never really been the type to have friends. People aren’t open to her.” He shrugged. “I don’t mean to seem crass, but when you look like Tori does, people assume you’re, well, to be frank, a bitch. Excuse the French. But, if they’d give her a chance, they’d see the side of her I see. She’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.”
Harper nodded, unsure of what to say. Not an hour ago, she’d been one of those people. Judging her neighbor based solely on her looks and the awkward first encounter. Maybe Bryant was right, maybe they really hadn’t seen them. Perhaps she’d judged them too harshly. After all, they had invited them to dinner to welcome them to the neighborhood. She let her shoulders slump, feeling even worse.
“Maybe I should go check on her?” she asked.
“She’ll be back,” Jason said. “She’s resilient, my wife. Beautiful and strong as they come.”
As if on command, the door opened, and Tori stood in front of them with a new bottle of wine. “Sorry about that. Who needs a refill?”
Harper lifted her glass in an instant, trying to make amends for the awkwardness her innocent question had brought to their evening, yet knowing no amount of wine could erase the guilt that was eating her from the inside out.
Four
Harper
Three days into her first week at Crittenden Hospital, Harper was finally starting to get the hang of her new environment. She had settled in nicely to her new workspace, making friends with the coworkers, and though she was still constantly asked where she was from and why her accent was so weird, she was starting to feel more comfortable with each passing day.
She checked her phone for the second time, waiting to see if Bryant had ever messaged her to tell her what to pick up for dinner. He was supposed to be deciding, but the man treated even the most simple decisions as if they were life and death. She groaned at seeing the blank screen and slipped it back into her pocket.
“Hey,” Devon said, startling her. Her coworker rolled his chair next to hers. “You wanna grab a drink tonight?”
She furrowed her brow. It was totally out of the blue. “You know I’m married, right?”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said, pointing to her ring. “It’s not a date…just a work thing. All of us are going.” He gestured toward the four other receptionists, who all nodded in agreement despite being tied up with patients. “We try to get together once a month and grab a drink or whatever. But, if you’re not up for it—”
“No,” she said quickly. “No, I’m up for it. Where are we going?”
“Nice,” he said, biting his lip and nodding. “It’s a little bar downtown called Sam’s.”
“You’ll love it, Harper,” Collette whispered, covering the phone’s mouthpiece with her well-manicured hand.
“Okay, cool. Are we meeting there?”
“Yeah, we’ll just head out after work. You can follow me,” he told her, sliding back over to assist a nurse.
Harper pulled out her phone once again, typing out a quick text.
Nevermind. I’m going to go out with a few friends for drinks after work. Won’t be too late. Love you.
She watched the screen as the little bubbles popped across, indicating that he was typing a message.
After a few moments, his message came through. That’s fine. I’ll reheat leftovers. Be careful. I’ll see you tonight.
She sent a heart emoji, trying to make sure he was okay with her impromptu plans, and he reciprocated. Easy enough. Maybe things really would be different here.
Five
Harper
Later that evening at Sam’s, Harper was feeling herself sliding a bit closer to her new normal. The group of people she worked with—Devon, Collette, Miranda, Savannah, and James—was down to earth and a lot of fun.
Miranda, with her sleeve full of tattoos she managed to keep hidden at work, slid a glass of beer to Harper.
“Oh, I’m not really a beer drinker,” she said softly, hoping she wouldn’t offend Miranda.
“You’ll like it,” Collette insisted. “It’s a Lancaster Mills local beer. Strawberry.”
“Strawberry beer?” Harper asked, picking up the glass and sniffing it carefully.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it, but at least try it,” Miranda insisted.
She pressed the glass to her lips, beginning to take a sip and then choking as she inhaled it involuntarily, shocked at the sight in front of her. She slammed the glass down, clutching her throat as her chest heaved with coughs.
“Jeez, that bad?” Devon asked with a laugh.
“No,” she said once her airway was clear. “No, I—” She looked over, trying to make sense of what she’d seen. It couldn’t be, could it? She blinked again, staring at the empty barstool where he’d just been. It must’ve been someone else. It had to be. But she wouldn’t forget those eyes. And his face wasn’t exactly common. “I thought I saw someone.” She lowered her gaze, feeling her cheeks heat up. “It was actually really good,” she assured them, taking another small sip for good measure. It was true. It was decent anyway, for someone who usually hated beer in general.
“Are you stalking me or something?” She heard his voice behind her and shot around. Okay, so she wasn’t crazy.
“Jason?” she asked, staring at the man with wide eyes. They hadn’t seen their neighbors since their dinner over a week ago, but he was pretty unforgettable. She’d known that was him across the room. Him that locked eyes with her as she’d lifted her glass. “What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you, apparently,” he said, lifting his own beer glass. “Unless, of course, you are stalking me.”
“I’m not stalking you,” she said, her face warming even more. She turned to look at her group of friends, the girls at the table staring at him in wonder. “I’m here with friends from work. Collette, Miranda, Savannah, Devon, James,” she worked her way around the table, “this is Jason, my neighbor.”
An echo of hellos rang out from the table, and Jason nodded his head at them. “Evening, guys,” he said, before letting his gaze fall back on her. “You mind if I join you?”
“Not at all!” Savannah squealed before Harper could answer.
“Apparently not at all,” Harper responded, a small laugh in her voice. Jason pulled up a seat from the table next to them, sliding in beside her so that their arms had no choice but to touch.
“All right, next round’s on me,” he said, raising his hand so the waiter would notice him.
Cheers were heard all around, and Harper took another drink of her beer, locking eyes with Jason as she swallowed. He lifted his thumb, brushing her upper lip as the room seemed to stand still.
“Bit of foam,” he whispered before asking the waiter to bring another round of what everyone was having.
When he wasn’t looking, she placed her hand over where his touch had been, feeling silly for the way her heart was racing. Okay, so he was gorgeous…he was also married. She was married. Happily married.
She tried to clear her head, thinking more about Bryant. It would’ve been so much easier if their skin wasn’t touching, his body heat transferring to her.
“So, what do you do, Jason?” Miranda asked, taking a shot of vodka as if it were supposed to impress him.
“I’m a writer,” he said simply, not bothering to explain it all like he had for Harper.
“That’s…romantic,” Collette said, leaning forward onto the table as if she were melting.
“Not really,” he said. “It’s all boring, freelance stuff.”
Harper wanted to explain to him that with a face like his, he could literally be writing about sewage and the girls would think it was romantic, but she didn’t bother. Instead, she scooted a bit closer, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Jason, you married?” Devon asked, nodding toward his ring. Harper
had seen the way Devon flirted with Savannah, and she couldn’t help but smile at the obvious jealousy in his voice.
“Yeah,” Jason said, lifting his hand up to stare at it. “I sure am.”
The girls’ spirits visibly fell, though they were lifted again as the waiter approached their table with drinks. Once he’d passed them around and walked away, their small talk filled the quiet.
“So, rough day?” Jason asked, keeping his voice low so the others couldn’t hear them well. He was speaking directly to Harper, and somehow that felt intimate.
She shook the thought from her head. It wasn’t supposed to feel intimate. This was ridiculous. She was like a teenage girl again with all the raging hormones that being thirteen had brought.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, noticing he was still staring, and she’d completely forgotten the question.
“I asked if you’d had a rough day. You know, being here instead of at home.”
“Oh, no. Not at all, actually. We just…came here to blow off some steam.”
He nodded, downing the last of his beer and beginning to work on the next glass. “Where’s Bryant?”
“He’s at home. I’ve put him on unpacking duty.”
He laughed.
“What about Tori? Why isn’t she here?”
“Ah, Tori,” he said with a sigh. “She’s…well, it’s nearly seven on a Wednesday, so she’s probably stopped by the spa to get a massage.”
“A massage?”
“She likes to end the day with one,” he said with a shrug. “It’s her money.”
“Must be nice—” She let the thought slip from her head without warning, but Jason didn’t seem to mind.
“Yeah, it is.” He laughed out loud, and if he weren’t so friendly it would’ve been an obnoxious comment.
“So, what are you doing here, then? You didn’t want a massage?” she teased.
“Nah, this is where I come to relax.”
“What? That big ole house isn’t relaxing enough?”
The Good Neighbors Page 2
