Morning Paper
Greer
How am I going to handle living next to such a rude man? I pull my robe tighter and slide my feet into my slippers. His insufferable, overbearing attitude might drive me out of my mind. Maybe yesterday was it. He’ll stay on his side of the fence, and I’ll stay on mine.
That’s all there is to it. I didn’t even know half of my neighbors back in Urbium, let alone have a single conversation with them. Having a private elevator helped with that.
Hopefully, reading the paper and eating breakfast will distract me from thinking about that man.
I open the front door to collect the paper that every morning gets dropped off, even in the middle of nowhere.
How Rothswyler managed to find a delivery service, I have no idea, but Mother won’t be able to say I’ve become a heathen living out in the sticks, not keeping up with current events.
There hasn’t been a day since I was eight that I didn’t start my morning with the paper, even from bed when I was mourning the loss of my marriage.
It’s colder here than in the city. There’s definitely snow in the air again. Soon…very soon I’ll sit in my house next to a bay window watching the snow fall down with my son growing inside of me.
That picture alone is worth a million grumpy neighbors.
“Morning.”
I turn to the neighbor boy who’s walking towards me with a friendly smile on his face. “Good morning.” This feels like a trap, but the boy didn’t seem to be as nutty as his father.
“Thought I’d come by and introduce myself and apologize about the other night.”
What?
“I’m Creed.” He holds out a hand for me to shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Creed. Call me Greer.” His hand is a bit smaller than his father’s, but Creed gives a nice, firm shake. My father would be impressed.
“About the other night. No one was supposed to get drunk. But my friend…Saber…he isn’t handling our friend’s death well…
and I know that’s no excuse to drive drunk and run around making a nuisance of himself.
But I just wanted to let you know he really isn’t a bad guy.
We’ll try to be more considerate the next time we get together. ”
Wow. Impressive. Especially for a boy with such a rude father. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming over to explain what happened to me. And I’m very sorry about your friend. Did it happen recently?”
Creed's smile fades. “Yeah. He died of a drug overdose. No one knew that he was using. If I had known, I would have said something. I should have known.”
Oh, the poor boy. “Sometimes people hide things even from their best friends.”
“Why hide something that important?”
“There are so many reasons. You probably won’t ever know what the actual one was. But it wasn’t your fault.”
“My dad said that too. That doesn’t change how I feel.”
Does it ever? “Back in middle school, a friend committed suicide. It bothered me for the longest time that I didn’t notice something was wrong.
That I didn’t do something to stop it. Until one of my closest friends, Ottilie, said, ‘You can’t change the past, and imagining that you can only ruins your future.
Instead, we should honor her memory by keeping the best parts of her alive with us. ’”
“Did that help?”
“It did. I still remember the first day I arrived at boarding school. I was terrified that no one would like me. She smiled at me. That was all it took was one little smile, and I knew I’d be fine.”
“You went to boarding school?”
Oh, that’s right, people around here don’t do that. “Yeah. My parents wanted to make sure I got the best education.” And stayed out of their hair.
“Was it an all-girls school?” There’s a decidedly naughty gleam in that boy’s eyes.
“You’re a menace.”
He chuckles. “Thanks for the talk.” As he walks back to his driveway, he waves to me with a toaster pastry in his hand.
That’s not enough for a growing boy.
“Hold on a second.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be right back.” There’s no way I can send a struggling kid off to face the day with only a toaster pastry to eat. Doesn’t his father know how unhealthy that is? A growing boy needs protein and nutrients. An egg sandwich on toast will have to do. I can make myself something else later.
Creed is leaning against one of the motorcycles with his legs crossed, waiting for me. In that moment, it’s clear to see but hard to believe that this boy is a clone of his father. “Here.” I hold out the foil-wrapped sandwich.
“You didn’t have to give me breakfast, but thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks.” He climbs on the motorcycle, plops a helmet on his head, tucks the sandwich in the pouch on the side, and takes off, riding way faster than can be safe for a child his age to go.
That man needs to set some rules for Creed, even if it’s clear that he’s going to grow into an amazing man one day. Who hopefully isn’t as grumpy as his father.
Now what am I going to do with myself today? It isn’t as if there are any charities out here for me to work on.
Maybe I should find somewhere in town to eat breakfast…
That sounds like a nice idea.
***
Instead of wandering around town, I find myself walking into the bookstore. Eating alone isn’t something that bothers me. I’ve done it far too many times to be uncomfortable. But it would be nice to grab a book or two to read after I finish my paper.
“’ello again.” Bram turns to me as I step inside. “Did those books work out for you?”
That isn’t quite how I’d describe it. “They were perfect, thanks. I’m in today looking for something to read at a coffee shop. If you have one around here.” There’s a diner down the block, but that doesn’t look like a place to sit down, relax, and savor a cup of tea.
“We don’t have a coffee shop. We have the best coffee shop that you’ve ever been to.”
“High praise. I’ve been to coffee shops around the world.” Turkish ones are by far some of my favorites.
“You don’t believe me, do you? That’s okay. Pick a book, and I’ll walk you there myself. I want to see your face as you step inside.”
Oh no. “Bram, that’s so nice, but…”
“No strings. I just thought you could use a friend in town that knows what you’re going through.”
I mentally breathe a sigh of relief. “Another friend would be great.”
“Another?” Bram tips his head to the side, and his floppy hair follows the movement.
“I’ll tell you about my friend while we sit in the coffee shop. Do you have any books by Dylan DuPress?”
“What’s with everyone asking for books by him lately? I think I have one copy left of his latest book.”
“Her,” I say without thinking.
“Dylan is a girl?”
Oh, the things he doesn’t know. “I’ll tell you all about her.”
***
“Wow. So that was what brought you here.” Bram leans back in his chair, bringing his coffee cup to his lips. He wasn’t wrong about the coffee shop.
I’ve never been anywhere like the Ivy Café. There’s literally still ivy growing up the walls in the middle of winter.
“Does that mean you have an in with The Cake Lady?”
“She has a name.”
“Not here in Silent Valley. Here she’s The Cake Lady. No one knows much of anything about her.”
Cordelia is living in secret. That’s odd. She’s one of the most open people I know. “So what’s your story? What brought you to Silent Valley?”
“It always starts with a woman, right?”
A smile spreads across my face. “You know, we can say the same about all of you men.”
“That’s fair. I came to the States for my ex-wife. When we parted ways, I wanted something totally different. Something I’d never experienced before, and this small-town life has been perfect for me.”
This is prying, but I need to know. None of my friends has ever suffered an extreme breakup. Other than divorced parents, none of us has experience in this realm. “Do you ever think you’ll fall in love again?”
“If you had asked me that two years ago, no. Now…maybe. Memories don’t fade, but they do come into perspective. One woman doesn’t represent the entire world of women. So, I picked wrong. The next one I’ll take my time and pick right.”
“That’s a good perspective.”
“But one you can’t see in your future.”
My future isn’t just my own. Risking my son’s happiness on a man isn’t an option. “Nope, I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone.” Or, not quite alone.