Chapter 3
Sydney
Friday morning, I rouse to the sounds of a hungry kitten.
After waking every two and a half to three hours throughout the night, I am dead tired.
It will be a while before I can lengthen that time because this little rascal needs tons of nutrition.
I made a little makeshift bed right next to mine with a really warm fleece blanket and a mini stuffed animal for the kitten to snuggle.
The kitten had really cuddled up to it, and a pang had cut through my heart for the loss the kitten might be feeling after being separated from its siblings.
She is already growing on me. So what should I name her?
I yawn as I plop the nipple into her mouth, watching in delight as her little mouth greedily gulps down the milk.
Boy, she sure is going to town on this bottle.
From what I can tell, this little booger is going to be ornery just from the way she squiggles constantly.
So something sweet and spunky would suit her.
She doesn’t look like a Zoey, and she doesn’t have any mittens or socks, just spots.
Spot is too normal of a name and kind of sounds more masculine than feminine.
Bitsy sounds fun, and this little runt kind of looks like one.
I hold her up to look her in the eyes as she laps leftover milk off the nipple and mumble, “Welcome home, Bitsy.”
Midafternoon, Bitsy curls up on the bench at the bay window while I unpack my books onto the massive, dark wood bookcase.
Thank goodness Nana had loved to read as well.
I let some of the books that looked interesting stay out but put away the rest in bins above the garage.
Almost all of the shelves are now filled up.
I’m going to need more shelving and more books.
I giggle at that thought. There will never come a point when I think I have too many books. I stand back to admire my handiwork.
The doorbell rings. Bitsy lets out the cutest little chittering sound, standing up to stretch her front paws before her back legs, obviously curious but not fond of the disturbance to her sleep.
“Who do you think it is, Bits?” I scratch under her chin and walk to the front door.
I haven’t met anyone yet other than Colin.
All of my boxes were accounted for, so I wasn’t expecting anyone.
It couldn’t be Colin because I hadn’t given any of my information to him or his secretary.
I look through the pane to see a petite, black-haired, partly Asian woman. I open the door and smile at the lady.
“Hi there! I’m Ava! I live two houses down! You must be Mabel’s granddaughter! Oh, you have her eyes!” She thrusts a pie into my hands. “It’s apple. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with that one.”
“Thank you so much! I love apple pie. And yes, I’m Mabel’s granddaughter, Sydney. It’s nice to meet you, Ava. Would you like to come in for a drink and a slice of this pie? It looks wonderful and smells heavenly!”
Ava nods her head enthusiastically, her straight, black strands of hair bouncing with the movement, and I move to the side to allow her to step inside.
I usher Ava out to the patio and hurry back to the kitchen for supplies.
I bring out some lemonade, Nana’s recipe, along with utensils and plates.
We get so into our conversation, learning about each other and sharing stories about Nana, we eat half the pie without even noticing.
“That pie was delicious, Ava,” I state, pointing my empty fork down at my bare plate for emphasis. “I’m really glad you shared it with me.” Ava beams at my praise.
“So, have you met any of your other neighbors yet?” Ava asks curiously. She seems to have such a sweet personality and a smile to go along with it.
“No, but I met the cute vet in town yesterday.”
“You already met Colin?” Her eyes widen as she sets down her glass of lemonade.
“He is pretty gorgeous, isn’t he? You lucked out on neighbors, missy!
You got him down the beach, and Jane is on the other side between you and me.
You’ll love Jane! We should really do cocktails one night!
Or wine? Wine is good,” Ava rambles as I choke on my lemonade.
“Did you just say that Colin is my neighbor? He didn’t mention that,” I croak as I finally clear the lemonade from my throat.
“Nah, he probably didn’t. Colin’s rather shy most of the time.
He’ll make small talk, but he doesn’t really get to talking until you get to know him.
He really needs to get back out there and start socializing again, but he’s been that way ever since Jenna died…
” Ava’s words get kind of quiet and taper off at the mention of Jenna, so I know it must have been a personal loss for her too.
I’m still curious. Before I can ask, Ava begins explaining.
“Jenna was a friend of mine. We met when I moved in down the road. It was about a year before she passed. Jenna was Colin’s wife. ”
I want to know more, but I can also see that now is clearly not the time to talk about it.
After all, we just met, and I want to enjoy the time getting to know her.
We chat for another hour, and Ava invites me over for dinner and cocktails next Tuesday so I can also meet Jane.
She describes Jane to me as a bold, dark blonde that is anything but ordinary.
In my mind, One Tree Hill’s Hilarie Burton pops up.
Jane is married, unlike Ava, but typically answers saying her husband will just have to fend for himself for dinner.
Ava exchanges cell phone numbers with me, and we plan on lunch here again tomorrow.
By the time Ava leaves, it’s already time to start dinner.
Something quick and simple sounds ideal since I’m still stuffed from the pie.
I settle on grilled cheese and a small bowl of tomato soup that I enjoy out on the patio while watching the sun set.
Bitsy even manages to pick at a tiny bit of kitten chow softened with some water.
The little fur ball will be pudgy in no time.
So, Colin is my neighbor and a widower. A sexy one at that.
I wonder how long it’s been since Jenna’s death.
I should probably dial back on the flirting next time I run into him.
Without more details, I should be careful.
I don’t want to overstep. It would be hard though considering how that man made me feel yesterday.
I snort to myself. How does he make you feel?
You don’t even know him yet. Where had that thought come from?
I hear barking that seems to be getting louder each second coming from Colin’s way down the beach, and look over to see a beautiful chocolate lab running like the wind in my direction.
“Amy!” Whistle. “Come on girl! Come back!” I tense, hearing an all too familiar voice calling from the man running on the sand toward my house.
Rushing off the porch to meet the dog and keep it back from Bitsy, I smooth out some invisible wrinkles on my shirt as he draws closer.
He’s even better looking now than he was yesterday at the clinic.
Barefoot, wearing a dark blue Henley tee and a pair of jean shorts with his hair a little disheveled from relaxing at home; the man is lethal.
A shadow of stubble runs along his jawline, and I want to know how it feels under my fingertips. Girl… get a hold of yourself.
His eyes light up, and he welcomes me with a big smile that makes about a million butterflies flutter around in my stomach.
“Amy! You’re so nosy!” He rubs the dog’s head affectionately.
“I’m sorry if she bothered you. How’s it goin, Sydney?
How’s the kitten doing?” As if on cue, Bitsy struts toward my ankles.
Upon getting an eyeful of Amy, she poofs up like a little porcupine, spitting her disdain for the dog and causing us to laugh.
Amy puts her chin down on her front paws and her butt up high and wiggling in the air.
She’s playful and wants to make friends.
I don’t think Bitsy’s too keen on the idea yet.
“Well, I think Bitsy just met her match. Huh, little girl?” I coo and chuckle as I bend down to smooth Bitsy’s spiky fur. She begins purring and nuzzling against my hand. Scooping her up to make her feel more secure, I nuzzle back against her head.
“She looks real good,” Colin says, reaching out to scratch below Bitsy’s chin while never taking his eyes off me. I feel my cheeks flush. Hopefully, he doesn’t notice.
“So you’re my neighbor?” I state more than ask. “I’m also guessing this is Amy from what I heard you calling her? Is that the same Amy as in Amy’s Care Clinic?”
“The one and only.” Pride radiates from his voice.
“I bought the business after the last vet retired four years ago and renamed it after her. Amy was from an abandoned litter, the runt of the pups that survived. Two years after we adopted, I mean, I adopted her, is when I took over.” Colin’s face flushes at the almost mention of his late wife.
I deduce it isn’t the right time, or polite for that matter, to ask about Jenna.
If he stumbled over his words like that, he’s probably more than unwilling to share.
Plus, it would be completely inappropriate at this point.
For crying out loud, we just met. Although, it feels like I’ve already known him for years.
He’s still staring at me, and the silence is a tad awkward for my liking.
I’ve never been good with awkward silences.
I always seem to have to fill them with some quirky comment, but I can’t think of anything except for his blue eyes.
As if he had read my mind, Colin looks down, kicking lightly at the sand, his movements like trying to sweep that awkwardness under the rug, and thankfully starts a new subject for me.