Chapter 8
Zoe
I stand out in the hall of our floor, holding Flipper close to my chest, and thinking to myself that that was not the way I had planned for that to go.
When I heard the commotion outside my apartment, I had hoped that it was my neighbor. I owed him an apology. I had been insufferably rude, since we both knew that I was supposed to be meeting him for dinner, and I totally blew him off. And yet, he was still gentleman enough to buy my supper.
Which was very good, by the way. The best meal I’ve had in months; the first meal that didn’t involve rice and beans in months.
Of course I enjoyed it. I ate every bite and every bite I ate made me feel more and more guilty.
So, when I heard something going on in the hall, I hoped that it was him, so I would have a chance to redeem myself.
Flipper helped me out by running over to the bird. That was definitely not planned. I’m not sure what got into my cat. Usually he’s so lazy he can barely get himself off the couch and move himself to his feed bowl, let alone his litter box.
That’s about all the exercise Flipper gets everyday, and he is perfectly content with it. I’ve not seen him move so fast since he was a kitten.
Regardless, he gave me the opening I needed. But instead of it being an opening, I said some weird stuff. I’m not even sure I want to remember what I said, and then Pete acted like he couldn’t stand me, and couldn’t wait to get me out of his apartment. Like he was hiding a body in there or something.
I tilt my head. Probably not. Pete seems like one of those guys who walk the straight and narrow. I kind of like that. In fact, I really like that. There are so many people who don’t. I’ve met more than a few of them, and they act...a little bit like I did today, allowing him to buy my meal, even though I knew that I was standing him up, and leaving without talking to him at all.
In my defense, I was surprised that my date was the cop who arrested me, but that doesn’t really give me an excuse.
I sigh. My attempt at reconciliation went awry. And tomorrow, I’m not going to have another opportunity because I have the library field trip out to the farm. Sunday after church I have the meal with my family, and then Kylie will be leaving for Paris the next day. She never told me whether she actually hired Pete to watch Baxley or not.
Still, the possibility was there. Maybe I would be seeing a lot more of him, and for some reason, the idea didn’t seem nearly as bad as it had before.
“What got into you, Flipper?” I ask, as I walk into my living room and pick her up off of the spot where she’s already sleeping. I sit down in the chair with her in my lap, and stroke her long fur.
One of the things with a long-haired cat is the cat hair gets everywhere. I spend a good bit of time brushing her out, just to try to keep the fur balls down to a minimum. I don’t really mind it, except it does get in my food, and that is kind of gross. Beans and rice aren’t the best to begin with, but beans rice and cat hair are especially nauseous.
Flipper doesn’t mean to do it, though, and I certainly don’t hold it against her. I can’t imagine living in an apartment by myself without a pet.
I should go finish the book I am working on. If I get that done, I can work some more on my public domain works. Those are what are bringing in my, not exactly steady, money that fills in the cracks between jobs. Even though I have auditioned for several different books, nothing has come of it.
I pet Flipper just a bit more, and then force myself out of the chair, and into my bedroom where I have my booth set up in the closet.
Okay. Maybe it is a little easier to go into the booth knowing Pete might be on the other side.
I am working toward the climax of the book, and I have to have the appropriate amount of emotion in the narrative and characters’ voices.
I sit, thinking for a little bit to get my mind into the story, and then I clear my throat and began, “I want to wake up every morning beside you, Precious. I want to see the sunshine in your smile. I want to spend my days making you the happiest woman on earth, my precious. I want to fall into your arms and feel your sweet love around me every night. Please, say that you will be mine.”
This book was a lot more syrupy than what I am partial to, but I didn’t write it, and I have to do my best.
I continue, “I will be yours, my darling love. They embraced, fervently, passionately, and then his lips descended on hers, desperately, like a man who was starving for his last sip of water. He raised his head and looked into her starstruck eyes. “I love you. I will love you forever. As long as I have breath, my precious darling, I will be yours.”
‘Oh! My precious. I will be yours. I will be yours as well. As long as we are together, I will be totally and perfectly satisfied, forever.’”
“I guess I’m not quite believing that, after the way you stood me up at dinner.”
I allow a huge smile to break across my face.
“Really?” I say in my most sultry tone. “Maybe this girl just needs to be chased a little,” I say. Knowing that I’m not any good at saying all the syrupy words that almost make me want to gag in the book I’m was doing. It is terrible that those scenes make me squirm, but they just seem too...much. Maybe I am being too critical, or maybe I am getting jaded with my job. But I like the older books better. The books that leave a little bit to the imagination. Or, maybe ones that don’t have such...fake declarations in them.
But, I normally like romance. Like the idea of a man pledging his life to a woman, and meaning it. Maybe I’m just bitter because it hasn’t happened to me. And I’m not any good at romance anyway.
“Really? Maybe you should give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“Are you inviting my cat over to hang out with your bird?”
“Could be.”
“All right. I think Flipper accepts.”
“Don’t you want to go check?”
“Flipper’s mistress wants to go, so Flipper will go whether she wants to or not.”
“I see,” he sounds pleased with my words.
“I can’t do it tomorrow. Or Sunday.”
“Me either.” Interesting that we both had full weekends. Of course, I have never met him in the hall; it makes sense that both of us are busy.
“Monday evening?” he asks, and I’m a little surprised. But it’s the earliest we can do it, and it’s not a weekend, or typical date night. Maybe he really does want to see me.
It is a good thing he isn’t standing in front of me, because my smile gets bigger at the thought.
“All right. Monday evening sounds good.”
“I won’t be able to do it until after nine. Sorry. I’m working.”
“That’s fine,” I say, stifling my disappointment. I have to wait three whole days.
Of course, Saturday and Sunday, at least, would be full. And the time will pass much faster that way. It always did on days that were busy.
I don’t want to quit talking to him. “I’m sorry about tonight. I was...surprised.”
“You and me both. I guess you owed me though.”
“I did?” I say, leaning my head against the wall so my ear is right there and I can hear better. His voice rumbles, and it comes through just fine. I really should have put some soundproof panels on the wall, but I haven’t gotten around to it. I didn’t want to spend the money. It would improve the quality of my production though, and I should stop putting it off. Maybe I would get more jobs if I had soundproofed my room a little better.
“Yeah. I...I swore you would never find out, but I was the one who hired you for the drawing lessons.”
I open my mouth and gasp. I had waited an hour for that student to show up, and he never had.
“That’s why you were in the library that day.” Now it all made sense.
“Yeah. I saw you with the crayon box, and... I pretty much had the same reaction that you had when you saw me with the rose.”
I laugh softly, and his laughter rumbles through the walls. It curls around my stomach, and squeezes in a very pleasant way.
“Wow. So I guess I did owe you, but I didn’t know it. And I wish I wouldn’t have acted the way I did.”
“I understand, truly. Like I said, I just went through it myself. But, I’m kind of ashamed of the way I acted.”
“Me too. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. And, you’re forgiven. Easily. It could happen to anyone. It did happen to me,” he says, and I can hear the humor in his voice.
“I forgive you too.” I pause for a minute and then I say, “And I’m sorry for that day a year ago. I suppose you don’t want me to bring it up anymore than I want to talk about it —” I kind of break off, not knowing what more to say.
“Yeah. I...am really embarrassed every time I think about it.”
“I don’t think you’re half as embarrassed as I am.”
This man had seen me like not too many people had. Of course, everyone at the rally that day had seen her like that. But...
“I didn’t mean to grab you... You know, where I did. I promise, that was an accident.”
“No. I know it was. You took your hand off like I bit it, and maybe I would have if you’d kept it on long enough, so that tells me that it wasn’t on for very long at all, even though it felt like a year.”
“I... I don’t know what to say. Other than, that kind of colored the way I thought about you.”
“And rightfully so. By if I had met you for the first time and you were naked somewhere, I probably would think a little bit differently about you as well.”
He laughed, and I smile, wondering if perhaps I would be able to laugh about it soon. After all, it is kind of funny, now that I think about it.
“Maybe in another ten years I’ll be able to laugh about it,” I finally say.
“I’ll laugh with you then,” he agrees.
“Anyway. That’s not the kind of person I usually am. I’m not even that big on animal rights. I just got... Sucked into the crowd.”
“Yeah, I’ve never arrested anyone for indecent exposure, but you were right in front of me, and I didn’t know what else to do. Things were getting a little out of hand.”
“It was my fault. I lost control. I guess it really is true about that crowd mentality. I definitely did something that I normally wouldn’t do. In fact, I would like to say I’ve never done anything like that before, and don’t plan to ever do anything like that again.”
“It’s good to know. I hope I never have to arrest anyone like that again.”
“Well, now you know to be careful where you put your hands on them.”
“I sure do. I carry a turban in my pocket for that precise scenario, although nothing of the sort has ever happened again.”
“Really? I added to your official dress? So it’s phone, keys, cuffs, turban?” I tease. Maybe I shouldn’t. After all, just a few minutes ago I was thinking that it was going to take me years to be able to laugh about it. And here I am, gently teasing him.
His chuckle comes through the door wall, and did that curling thing around my stomach again. Only this time it squeezes my heart too, and I want to take the sound and hold it close.
“Yeah. You changed me. Permanently.”
“You mean I affected you?”
“Maybe that too a little bit.”
“What made you become a cop?” I ask, not knowing what to say to make him laugh again. Because that is what I really want, to hear that chuckle, feel that good feeling, to share a little bit of laughter together. We might never be good friends. Probably won’t. But, I like the idea that the thing that had bothered me for literally an entire year, seems to be getting put to rest.
“I guess I just always liked following the rules. Which is funny, because I was one of those kids that could never sit still. School felt like a jail cell to me. And I wanted out, every day I walked out of that building it felt like being released. I guess maybe that made me feel like I wanted to work on the other side. I like the idea of protecting people. I like the idea of being in my hometown, where I grew up, where I know everyone, and they know me, and we like each other, most of the time.”
I laugh. I know exactly what he means by most of the time.
“Like Mrs. Higginbotham. Sometimes I don’t like her very much, but I appreciate her position in the town.”
“Yeah. That was why I was taking the drawing lessons. Mrs. Higginbotham asked me to do face painting, and I can’t draw worth anything.”
“If you still want lessons, we could schedule them again.” I take a breath. “I promise I won’t run away, if you don’t.”
“I promise,” he says, and I get the feeling he means it. Some people make promises and they are just based on a bunch of air, but when Pete makes a promise, it sounds like he keeps it.
“What about you? I assume you’re some kind of narrator?”
“Voice actor. Although, I do narrate books. That’s what I’m doing today.” I pause. “I guess people just always told me I had a nice voice.”
“You do. It’s soothing after a day of work. I sit here in my chair and just listen to you. It doesn’t matter what you’re saying, I just like the sound of it.”
“I wish that sold audios better, but thank you.” His words make me feel warm. I didn’t know that he sat there a lot, listening. But, it makes me feel good.
“So you do it just because people told you you have a good voice?”
“I’m good at keeping people interested in the story. Especially kids. I’ve always been good at making each character have their own voice, and kids seem to appreciate that. It just seemed to be something that I did growing up. I could imitate people, make my voice sound pretty convincing.”
“That might be a good talent to have. Especially if you wanted to pretend to be your parent, and get out of school.”
“And have the local police officer arrest me? No thank you,” I say with a little laugh.
“I guess I am the truant officer, as well as the meter maid, and whatever else the town needs.”
“Yeah. You do wear a lot of hats. But I think you do a good job. This feels like such a safe town. It always has.”
“I think when you grow up somewhere, your opinion might be a little bit biased, but thank you. We try. Although the budget is small, and there is not a whole lot of money, we do well with what we have, in my opinion.”
“In my opinion too.”
We are quiet for a bit, and maybe he feels the same way I do, that I don’t want our conversation to end, because he says, “Have you ever gone to the Icebreakers hockey game?”
“Several times. It’s pretty neat to have a professional team so close. And to have members of the team members live in the community here.”
“Did you recognize Cal tonight?”
“He seemed familiar. He plays for the Icebreakers?”
“Yeah. He’s going to ask you about adopting anteaters if he sees you again.”
I laugh. “I see. So he’s a little bit odd.” I can’t afford to adopt an anteater. Although, it does sound like a worthy cause. Something that probably not a whole lot of people pay much attention to.
“He believes with his whole heart in saving the anteaters. So, if you see him around again, and you don’t want to adopt an anteater, you’d better run, because he can be pretty persuasive. I have an anteater as a pet. It lives in Ecuador.”
“Oh my goodness. You’ve never met your pet?”
“Nope. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced it’s not a scam, but I do get regular picture updates, and what started out with one anteater developed into a family when my original anteater apparently got married.”
“Wow. That does sound like a scam.”
“Yeah. He was a single dude. Now he’s a married guy. That takes more money.”
“Sounds pretty slick,” I say with a laugh.
“Just figured I’d warn you,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say. And we are quiet for a bit.
“I suppose I better let you get back to work. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sitting here listing to you.”
“I don’t mind. It’s totally up to you. I... I should soundproofed my booth, it would make the quality of my recording better. I just haven’t done that.”
“What does that entail?” he asks.
“Well, I have to get panels to put on the walls to absorb the sound. You know how an empty room kind of echoes?”
“Yeah?”
“A room that has furniture and carpet and other things doesn’t. I think that’s the general idea, although I've never put the money into it. It’s not exactly the kind of job that enables you to get ahead very well, so...” I don’t want to admit how broke I really am.
“So can I say something personal?” he finally asks.
“Okay?”
“Are you skinny because you don’t have money to buy food?”
My eyes open wide. Then I sign. I suppose he kind of caught me. Although is the answer to that really yes?
“Let’s just say that the meal that I ate tonight was the first meal that didn’t include beans and rice in months. Literally. Other than when I’ve gone to my parents to eat.”
“I see. So, maybe Monday night should include some food too. We can order takeout. How would that be?”
“I’d love it,” I say, “but I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy my food. That’s not what neighbors do.”
“That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.”
“Are we friends now?” he asks, like he really wasn’t sure.
“I think so. I don’t think I’m going to feel as awkward around you as I have, and I know I’m not going to deliberately try to avoid you.”
“That’s funny. Since before last week, I don’t think I’ve seen you at all, and I thought it was because I was deliberately avoiding you.”
We laugh together. “Apparently we’re very effective at avoiding each other.”
“I guess were good at what we do,” he agrees.
“All right, I’ll let you get back to work. Have a good night,” he says. And I wish that he wouldn’t have. I like chatting with him, but he is right. I can finish this book tonight if I don’t have any more interruptions. I probably should, because even though I don’t have any other jobs lined up, if I do happen to get one, I could begin it right away.
“Good night,” I say, trying to make sure I sound cheerful and happy and not disappointed.
I did get the book finished, but then I had editing work to do, and it was almost two o’clock in the morning before I get to bed. But I go with a smile.
The field trip didn’t start until ten, and I am up in plenty of time. Although, I have to admit I am a little disappointed that I have to go on a field trip to the farm, when my preference would have been spending time with my neighbor who turned out to be not so bad.
But, I don’t want to assign more to our interactions than what there actually was. We had apologized, and that was that. Maybe he doesn’t want to be anything more than friends. He was pretty adamant about just being friends.
Still, I can smile, because he turned out to be funny and sweet and that had been a pleasant surprise.
When I get to the library, Verity seems like she was already beside herself. Her helper was at the desk, and she would be manning it for the several hours that they were at the farm.
“Oh thank goodness you’re here. The kids are really excited.”
“You want me to try to read them a story while we wait for the stragglers?”
“We have three kids who aren’t here, so yeah, if you could just kind of get them all settled down. That’d be great.”
“I brought something just in case,” I say, pulling out two of my favorite farm books.
They both talk about cows, and they are both rhyming books, which I love. The ages that we have, first grade to third, were right at the point where the books might have been just a bit too juvenile for them, but they were books that that they should be able to read, in third grade, easily.
I read through both books twice, before the last three children showed up, and we head out to board the bus.
Thankfully Verity knows a lot of fun kid songs, and she and the kids sing the entire way to the farm. It wasn’t far, only thirty minutes or so outside of town.
“I’ve always wanted to live on a farm,” Verity says as we pull into the large parking area beside the barn.
“It’s a lot of work.” The bus driver speaks, looking up from where he is watching, before looking back into his mirror, as he backs up and aligns the bus perfectly with the side of the parking area.
“I’m sure it is. Probably more work than what I want to do, but the idea is romantic, you know?” Verity says with a smile.
“Not me. I don’t want to have anything to do with the farm. I mean I’ll come and visit, but the smells, the work, the heat, the cold, just no thank you. And, farmers never seem to have time to do anything, except farm stuff. I don’t want to be stuck on the farm all my life,” I say as I stand up. I’m careful to make sure that my tone is low enough that the children don’t hear. I don’t want them to hate farms, or get off the bus telling whoever’s going to be leading our group around the tour that forms are smelly and have bugs and farmers never seem to get off the farm.
That’s not what I’m trying to teach the kids. That’s just my take. A policeman...maybe I can get onboard with a policeman. The idea has been growing on me in the last twelve hours, but a farmer? No way.
The kids get off the bus, and an older lady greets us. She doesn’t look sturdy, as she leans on her walker.
“I’m Arley,” she says, holding out her hand to shake first Verity’s hand, then mine, then Jan’s, who is the additional chaperone.
“Nice to meet you,” Verity says. I’m the librarian, and we’ve met several times.”
“I’m so glad we could set this up,” Arley says, nodding her head.
“We’re looking forward to the tour. The children are excited.”
While Verity talks to Arley about the tour schedule, Jan and I work on getting the children herded into a semblance of order. I listen, so I can be proactive if I need to take the kids somewhere besides here.
“My nephew will be coming soon,” Arley says. “He got held up with a calf this morning. We’ll have a new baby to show you, but in the meantime, he wanted to get it checked before everything got crazy.”
“Totally understandable,” Verity says. “How many animals do you have on the farm?”
I shush the kids, and tell them that Arley is going to tell us about the animals on the farm.
They get quiet, because they’re curious. But I can tell they’re anxious to run around a little bit. Maybe I’ll suggest to Verity that we let them do something that has a lot of action, before we make them try to walk sedately around.
“We have twenty-five head of beef cattle. Not nearly the number that my husband and I had ten years ago, which was closer to four hundred. It was a lot of work, and once he passed away, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. My nephew comes and helps me, and we still make and sell hay, and we have some corn as well. Plus, we have a small herd of goats, which the children will love, some horses, geese and ducks on the ponds, and we have a small chicken coop with about twenty laying hens. I should have a just-laid-today egg for everybody.”
That sounded pretty cool. I wouldn’t mind having an egg that was just laid today. Maybe that’s just me. But the idea of eating something that fresh, really speaks to me. Plus, I love eggs, but as crazy expensive as what they are, I have to stick to my beans and rice.
Arley keeps talking, and the kids actually listen. I am impressed with them and a little bit proud too.
I bend over to say something to Kathleen, who stands beside me, poking my leg.
As I am talking to her, I think about how much Bexley would love this. But she is just a little too old.
Regardless, I stand up, and immediately my eyes are drawn to the man who now stands beside Arley. She is introducing him as her nephew.
I guess I’m not sure who I thought her nephew was going to be, some young kid who looked like a farmhand, I guess. But, I almost fall over when I realize I am staring into the eyes of my neighbor. The cop who arrested me. Pete McKinzie.