The Good Neighbors

by Kiersten Modglin

  She stared at him, and he wondered if she could read the lie all over his face, but she finally shrugged. “Mind if I join you?”

  He nodded, turning the water back on and stepping out of the stream as she peeled off her clothes, stepping into the water. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, pulling him down into a kiss. He pulled away, probably too sharply. “Ahh, I see why you fell asleep. Is that alcohol I taste?” she teased.

  “Yeah,” he said, laughing nervously and wondering what else she could taste. God, he was such an asshole. “You caught me.”

  Fifteen

  Harper

  When Harper got home from work a few nights later, she walked into a dark living room, jumping at the sight waiting for her as she flipped on the light. Bryant lay on the couch, his cheek bloody and swollen and his bottom lip busted.

  “Oh my god!” she cried, dropping her purse and rushing toward him.

  He shot up, looking dazed as he tried to adjust to his surroundings. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong? What happened to you?” she demanded.

  He winced, touching a finger to his lip. “Ouch. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” she argued. “What happened?”

  He stood, walking past her and into the kitchen quickly, his tone defensive. “I’m fine, honestly.”

  “Why won’t you tell me what happened? You’re all beaten up, Bryant. You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  He sighed, grabbing a beer from the fridge and turning back around to face her with a look of shame. “I was…mugged.”

  She hurried toward him again, but he wouldn’t let her touch his face. “Mugged? What do you mean, mugged?”

  “What do you think I mean? I was mugged, okay? No big deal. I’m fine, like I said.”

  “How did it happen? When did it happen? What did they take?” she demanded, her voice growing loud with worry. She searched him for more signs of harm, lifting his arms up as he pulled them away from her.

  “After school. I walked down the street to grab some more beer from the liquor store. I shouldn’t have gone down the alley. It was stupid.”

  “And someone attacked you?”

  He scowled, taking a drink with an angry groan. “I mean, it isn’t like they punched me. I could’ve taken them if they’d come at me from the front. They shoved me down from behind. I wouldn’t have even fallen if I wasn’t completely caught off guard. My cheek hit the pavement, that’s it. Probably just a bunch of stupid kids looking to get one over on their teacher.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  He pursed his lips. “No, there’d be no use. They only grabbed the spare cash I had in my hand from where I’d just paid, plus the beer and my keys. I should’ve stuck the cash into my pocket right away, but…I mean, it’s a small town. We aren’t in Chicago anymore. I’m more mad about the beer than anything,” he said with a playful laugh.

  “They took your keys?”

  His eyes rolled back in frustration. “Yeah. I mean, it’s a pain, but I’m just glad it wasn’t my wallet. Thank God your dad got us that hide-a-key magnet thing to put under the car, or I’d’ve had to call you to come pick me up. We’ll have to get some new ones made this weekend. All in all, not the worst thing that could’ve happened. I’m not even that sore. Just wish I could’ve caught the dumbasses who did it. Wouldn’t that have been something?”

  “I’m so sorry, Bryant,” she said, brushing a finger over his wound. He didn’t seem to want her to fuss over him, but he didn’t resist.

  “I’ll be fine, babe. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you put ice on it so it doesn’t bruise?”

  “Yes,” he said, placing the bottle of beer on his wound as proof.

  “I hate that that happened. You’re right, though. Lancaster Mills seems so quaint, I can’t believe something like that could happen here. Maybe we ought to call the police just to be on the safe side.”

  “And tell them what? Someone stole twelve dollars from me?”

  “And your keys! They could get into our home, take our cars. The police should know that.”

  “They won’t know whose house or car those keys go to.”

  “But if it was one of your students—”

  “Go ahead and call them if you want,” he said finally. “But I’m telling you it’s silly. My students aren’t going to go to prison over stealing my Pontiac, I can guarantee you that.”

  She let out a breath, trying not to laugh at the thought. She wasn’t sure how he could be so cavalier about everything. “You still should’ve called me.”

  “For what? I’m fine, Harp.” He kissed her forehead. “It looks worse than it feels, and aside from the fact that this is my last beer, there was no real harm done.” He downed the last of his drink on cue and tossed it into the trash. “Now, you look exhausted. What do you say we get to bed?”

  Sixteen

  Harper

  The next weekend, Bryant woke up early and headed out, claiming he was going to get new keys made. He’d hinted that he also had something he wanted to surprise her with, but she couldn’t imagine what. Harper took the opportunity to take a long bath and get started cleaning the kitchen.

  Growing up, her mother had dedicated Saturday mornings to cleaning house, and it was something she actually grew to enjoy as a kid. They’d turn the music up loud, each person picking a room and cleaning. With two sisters and an older brother, plus her parents, the house was usually cleaned within an hour, and then they had the rest of the day to spend relaxing.

  Just thinking about those mornings made her homesick. She missed her family. She missed her friends. But more than anything, she missed having a house full of people. Lately, it was just her and Bryant, and it was starting to get lonely with their conflicting schedules.

  She couldn’t put into words how grateful she was to finally have a weekend off, the first one since they’d moved to Lancaster Mills. She glanced at the clock. Bryant had been gone just over an hour. Where could he be? She ran the towel over the final dish, stacking it into the cabinet and turning around to lean on the counter, letting out a breath.

  Her phone chimed across the room, and she hurried over to it, wondering who it could be and hoping it was him. Instead, it was a meme from Savannah making fun of their boss. She responded back with three laughing emojis for effect and set the phone down. Then, she picked it back up. Seriously. Where the hell could he be?

  Just then, the doorbell rang and she began to imagine the worst. With shaking hands, her phone in one squeezed palm, she walked to the door. In Chicago, you didn’t answer the door. People called first, or they weren’t people you wanted to see. But, apparently it was different here.

  She pulled open the door, shocked to see Jason standing there. “Jason,” she said, feeling self conscious about her suds-covered shirt and ratty ponytail. “Is everything okay?”

  He smiled at her, his grin wide and friendly. “Yeah, of course. Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked.

  “No, sorry. I was just cleaning.” She stepped back, holding an arm out to let him come in.

  He stepped into her home, wiping his shoes on the mat respectfully before stepping onto the carpet. “Is Bryant home?”

  “Oh, no. He just stepped out. He should be home any minute, though.”

  “Damn,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I needed some help with the garden. I was gonna see if he wanted to get his hands dirty.”

  “The garden?” she said with a teasing sneer. “Don’t you have people who do that for you?”

  He smiled. “Actually, it kind of relaxes me.”

  She sighed. “Kind of like cleaning for me, I guess.”

  He nodded slowly before letting a small smile spread across his lips. “Now that I hire out for.”

  “You know, I guess I could help you.”


  “Really?” he asked, seeming shocked.

  “Yeah, I used to help my dad with the garden every summer. What are you planting?”

  “Just flowers,” he said. “Tori likes fresh flowers every fall, so I usually get them started in August. You don’t have to help, though. Honestly, I just—”

  “I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. It would be nice to feel a bit more at home here. Bryant can help, too, when he gets back. I think he’d like that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she said happily. “Let me run and change real quick.”

  “Okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his arm over his forehead. “Dress cool, though. It’s a scorcher out there.”

  She nodded, hurrying to her room to change and sending Bryant a quick text to let him know where she’d be when he came home. She didn’t wait for his response, laying her phone down and rushing out after Jason, trying to assure herself her excitement could only stem from doing something that made her feel close to her parents. It had absolutely nothing to do with the beautiful specimen she’d be working alongside.

  “You ready?” he asked, holding the door open for her as she walked out. She turned to lock her doors. “You don’t have to do that,” he said with a laugh. “You’ll just be right over there.”

  She slid the key into her pocket, smiling at him sheepishly. “Force of habit.”

  “So, how are you liking life here in Lancaster Mills?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the sun as he spoke. “I imagine it’s pretty different than what you were used to.”

  “It is for sure,” she said. “But…it’s nice. Just in different ways.”

  He nodded, stopping in his front yard and grabbing the wheelbarrow filled with bags of soil. “We’re working around here.” He nodded his head toward the back yard, and she raced ahead, swinging the fence open to let him in.

  “What about you?” she asked as he set the soil down, tearing it open and pouring a bag into the empty flower bed that sat near their patio. “Tori mentioned you guys were from Tennessee. Anywhere near a city? Nashville? Memphis?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, Asheville was the closest city, and that was still a good hour. We’ve always lived in the country.”

  “Wow. It’s crazy. I never would’ve pictured that. You guys don’t come across ‘small town’ at all.” She cringed. “I hope that didn’t come out wrong. I don’t mean it bad, honestly. I guess I just always had this picture of how small-town people lived and acted, and well…you just weren’t what I expected.”

  He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat, pretending to take a toothpick from his mouth and grinned. “Well, thank ya, ma’am.”

  She laughed. “I know. I shouldn’t make assumptions.”

  “It’s okay,” he told her. “When the realtor told us people from Chicago were moving in, we assumed you guys would be assholes, so I guess we’re even.” He picked up another bag, a smirk on his face as he laid it down.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “I said we thought. Luckily, you both proved us wrong.” He paused, wiping his forehead. “Hey, I’ll be right back. You can go ahead and start emptying this bag if you want.” He darted in the house as she tore open the bag.

  She was halfway through the next one when he returned, several minutes later, carrying two glasses of iced tea.

  “Took you long enough,” she joked. “I thought you were going to make me do all the work.”

  “Nah, just most of it.” He set the drinks next to her and bent down, beginning to help her level the soil. She stayed on her knees next to him, the paved stones of the patio digging into her bare knees and causing her to wish she’d worn something other than shorts.

  “Thanks for this,” she told him, taking a sip of the too-sweet tea. She tried not to make a face.

  “I guess I didn’t do so well,” he said, not missing her sour expression. “I tried to put less sugar than usual for you. Blame it on my Southerness.” He looked over at her, their brown eyes connecting.

  “Thank you. That was sweet of you.” After a moment, she looked down, tucking a piece of loose hair out of sight and reaching into the soil to help him smooth it out. “So, where’s Tori today? Is she going to be helping?”

  He shook his head. “She had to go to town earlier. She’ll be back this afternoon, but…gardening isn’t really her thing.”

  Harper wondered if Tori had told her husband what happened to them in the pool. Feeling mortified, she forced herself to think of something, anything, else. “What is her thing?” she asked. “I mean, what does she like to do? Besides fix people’s faces.”

  He let out a loud laugh. “What does my wife like to do? That’s a good question.” He scratched his chin with his shoulder, grabbing a few plants and divvying them out between himself and Harper. “She…she likes wine and trashy TV. She likes to shop. She likes to sit in coffee shops and people watch. Oh,” he pointed to the pool behind them, “and she likes to swim.” He winked at her, and in that moment, she knew he knew.

  “Oh.”

  He shook his head. “Truth is, she’s still a mystery to me, even to this day. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life, and I still learn new things about her all the time.”

  “That’s what keeps things exciting, right? I mean, I hope I don’t know everything about Bryant.”

  His eyebrows shot up and he frowned, but he looked away quickly enough for her to question what she’d seen. “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “What’s that mean?” she asked, sensing his ominous tone. He continued to work, not speaking for a moment. Finally, as he patted the soil down around the flower in front of him, pressing it carefully into place and reaching over to help her with hers, he sighed.

  “Just that you can never truly know someone. Not as much as you’d think.”

  Seventeen

  Bryant

  Bryant got the text message from Harper while Tori was laying face down on her desk in front of him. The woman was like his kryptonite. He was hypnotized around her. Powerless. The text message seemed to break the spell. He froze, stepping back and letting go of her waist as he stared down at the phone in his free hand.

  “Shit,” he said, pulling up his pants.

  “What?” she asked. “What is it?”

  “Harper is with Jason.”

  “So?” She pulled her skirt down, obviously not worried about the potential crisis he was sure would occur if their spouses got together.

  “So? So, what happens when they realize we’re both gone? We have to get back.” She took the phone from his hand, and he grabbed it back quickly, anger welling in his chest.

  “Then what happens when they realize we’re both coming back at the same time? Come on, Jason thinks I’m at work…which isn’t technically a lie,” she pointed around her office, “and you’re supposed to be at the store. They won’t suspect anything.”

  He closed his eyes, stepping back from her as she moved forward. “I can’t do this right now, Tori. I came here to tell you we can’t do this anymore. That’s why I was here. I can’t be with you anymore.”

  “Well, you sure as hell didn’t have a problem the last time. Or five minutes ago, for that matter.”

  “I’m feeling guilty. I love my wife. I…I don’t know what comes over me when I’m around you. That’s why I’ve stayed away. When you asked me to meet you today, I was relieved. I’ve wanted to talk to you—”

  “I’ve wanted to talk to you, too,” she said, reaching for him.

  He pushed her hand away. “Not like that. This can’t happen. This. Whatever this is. Us. It’s over. We’re over. I don’t want to see you again. Not as friends, not as anything.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she sneered. “You really think you can walk away from me so easily?”

  “Yeah, I can. This was a mistake…all of it. I should have never done this. I should’ve never come here.” He turned around, rushing out of her office.

  Her heels clicked as they hurried alon
g the linoleum. “Bryant, wait!” she called, but he ignored her. “Wait!” she screamed, grabbing for his back, suddenly closer than he’d realized.

  He spun around. “Stay away from me, Tori. I mean it. Don’t come near me or Harper ever again.”

  “Or what?” she asked, rearing back her head, looking utterly mortified. It was obvious she wasn’t used to being told ‘no.’

  He furrowed his brow, opening his car door. “Just…just don’t, okay?” He pointed his keys at her. “I mean it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, looking furious as he drove away. She wasn’t happy, but she’d get over it. She had to. They both did. This wasn’t anything that could last. He’d sooner die than break Harper’s heart. He just wished he’d realized that before…this.

  Eighteen

  Harper

  “There,” Jason said, standing back from their work and dusting off his knees. “You do good work, Page.”

  She smiled. “So do you…hey, how do you know our last name?” she asked, staring at him strangely.

  He smirked. “Um, it’s on your mailbox?” He stared back at her, and she realized he was right, though she’d never thought to check for theirs. “I pay attention to things,” he said softly, and the way he said it gave her chills.

  “What kind of things?” she asked, wrapping her hand around her elbow.

  “Just…everything. I’m a writer, after all. It’s kind of my job to notice things other people don’t.”

  “And my last name is one of those things?”

  He nodded. “Do you know mine?”

  It was as if he’d read her mind. She glanced at the ground, staring back up with one eye closed and a furrowed brow from the bright sun, trying desperately to remember because she was almost certain she had heard it before. “I never checked.”