8. Race You to Clarity
RACE YOU TO CLARITY
OWEN
I drop my keys on the side table by my door and run my hands over my face as I head to my room to change into pajama pants and a t-shirt after an extremely long day.
Once my crew left for the day, I stayed to try to fix a big mistake.
When I order building materials, I try to keep the delicate balance between having everything when we’ll need it with not having more than what our limited storage space can hold.
Today, I discovered that I messed up, and no matter how many ways I tried to rearrange things, it just wouldn’t work.
I head into my living room/kitchen area and look toward the plastic sheeting separating my townhome from Charlie’s. She must’ve worked late yesterday or gone somewhere right after work, because I didn’t see her fuzzy silhouette over there all day. It surprised me how much I missed seeing her.
As frustrated and as bummed as I am right now, I still smile, though, just thinking about the package I found by my plastic door this morning. Every item in it made me laugh. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share a makeshift wall with.
Everything is dark on Charlie’s side of the wall, so I must’ve missed her today, too. I go over to where the Flood Survival Kit is sitting on my one section of counter, pull out the pair of socks, and put them on. I like that they make me feel like I got a little of her tonight.
Why do I like it? I have to admit that it’s because I like her. You have to move once you finish The Shadowridge , I remind myself. You signed a contract. So, stop liking her as more than a neighbor .
I should go to bed, but my newly discovered problem at work is still running through my brain, and I don’t really want to try to sleep while so focused on that.
Instead, I slide open my patio door and step into the cool night air, breathing in deeply, hoping it and the sound of crickets chirping will help to clear my head.
The night is only slightly cool. It’s a good temperature, actually.
The patio isn’t big—it could probably fit a couple of chairs, or maybe a grill or a meat smoker. My patio is empty, though.
I walk forward and spread my hands wide on the railing.
There are townhomes that are very similar in a row on my side, along with three other sides that form a square with a big grassy area in the middle, along with a small playground at the opposite end from me.
I just look out at it, trying to regulate my breathing and think peaceful thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
I simultaneously yelp and jump at the sound, turning to see Charlie sitting on a chair on her patio, her feet up on a second chair. There’s only about a five-foot gap between the railings of our patios. “Sorry—I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone out here.”
“Did you want to be alone out here?”
“Please, no. Stay.”
The neighbor on my other side has their patio light on, and between the light of that and the light of the moon, I can see Charlie pretty well.
She’s also wearing pajamas, and she’s got her hair pulled up, but there are many strands still hanging down, which I love.
And she’s wearing glasses. I didn’t know until this moment that she normally wears contact lenses.
I walk over to the railing at the side, facing her patio. “Rough day?” she asks.
I nod. “Yep. You?”
“Very much so. What are you in for?”
“I made a bad call. A shipment of building supplies I ordered was unexpectedly delayed, and they won’t be here when we need them.
Not only does it mess up our schedule, but it means I have to tell my crew that they’re going to have their hours cut for this next week.
I know that’s a really big deal to some of them. What are you in for?”
“I also made a bad call at work. I like to be overly prepared because I think that things go the smoothest when I am. Then, when things don’t go according to plan, which they often don’t, I’m already prepared for the backup plan. And plans C, D, and usually E.
“I made the call that we weren’t ready yet and that we should wait another day to meet with someone who had information on a high-value…
client, and because we waited, the guy got cold feet and bailed completely.
” She shakes her head. “And we really wanted that client. We’d already put so much work into getting them. ”
“That’s rough. I’m sorry. What is it that you do?
” It’s weird—in some ways, I feel like I know Charlie well.
I know what time she wakes up because I can hear her alarm from my bedroom, and I can hear how long it takes her to shower because our upstairs bathrooms share a wall just like our kitchens do.
I know how long it takes her to get ready in the morning, whether she brushes her teeth first or blow-dries her hair, and when she eats breakfast. I can’t believe that I don’t already know what she does for a living.
“My job title is IT Systems Coordinator, and I work for my family’s business solutions company. I set up, troubleshoot, and monitor integrated systems for secure communication and data handling.”
“That sounds… complicated.”
“Only when I have to do something like remotely override building security at a top-secret facility.”
There’s a playfulness in her voice that tells me she’s joking around, and it makes me smile.
“I can’t even get my laptop to stop auto-connecting to someone’s Wi-Fi nearby that’s named FBI_Van_42, and you’re hacking firewalls for breakfast.”
“If your laptop suddenly starts blinking Morse code at you, just blame the socks. They might be bugged.”
I look down at my socks. “Thanks again for these. My toes are definitely warm and dry. They apparently also have a magical ability to chase away some of the day’s frustration.”
“I’m glad they helped. I figured anyone who’s battling rogue Wi-Fi and wall-less living could use some backup. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you—how did your proposal go? And also, what was it for? I was so distracted by how you looked in a suit that I forgot to ask.”
I chuckle. I think the expressions on her face when she saw me in both suits are burned into my memory, and it makes me smile every time I think about it.
“I was presenting the proposal to a historical preservation society in Philadelphia about my plan for restoring their beloved train station.”
Charlie sits up a little straighter, looking alarmed. “Already? Will you be leaving Cipher Springs to start on that one soon?”
“First, no, I’m not moving on so soon. It could take another eight months to finish the theater. But the process of going from finding an old building I’d love to restore to getting approvals and funding to actually starting to restore it is an extremely long process with many steps along the way.
“And second, I am kind of digging that you got so alarmed at the thought of me leaving soon.”
She smiles and looks down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “In case of any future aquatic misadventures, it’s nice to have a neighbor who is already experienced in flood management.”
I chuckle. When Charlie smiles, it isn’t reaching her eyes, so I figure her mistake at work is still weighing her down.
I know that morning can bring great clarity and perspective.
I also know that it can be hard to get to that morning clarity when beating yourself up about it keeps you from getting the sleep you need.
She’s dressed like me—in pajamas and socks. I say, “Go grab your shoes.”
“My shoes? Why?”
“Because there’s nothing like increasing your heart rate for a bit to pull you out of any doldrums. You’ll need that if you want to sleep tonight, so we’re going to race around the grass.”
She raises an eyebrow. “We are?”
“Yep. You’ve got thirty seconds to meet me back out here.”
She gives me an amused look for a couple of beats, and then she hops up and hurries inside.
So I do the same. I race to my bedroom, slip on my shoes, then grab a folded blanket from my closet and race back out to my patio.
I find Charlie sitting there with both shoes on, tying one of them.
When she finishes, she nods at my blanket as she stands. “Do you plan to use that as a cape?”
“Only if it looks like I need to tap into some superpowers to help me win the race.” We each head down our own stairs, and I drop the folded blanket onto the grass.
“Okay, we go to that corner, along that side, turn left just before the playground, down the far side, and the first person to get back to the blanket wins.”
Charlie nods. “Ready? Go!”
We start running, and Charlie is playfully acting like she’s trying to push me out of bounds or something, and I’m playing right back.
By the time we reach the halfway point at the back left corner, though, Charlie starts full-on sprinting.
She pulls away quickly, and I start sprinting, too, in order to keep pace.
We reach the blanket at nearly the same time.
We’re both panting, and Charlie is laughing, so I start laughing, too.
“Wow, that really does work!” she says, grinning and panting and laughing practically simultaneously.
I spread the blanket on the grass, and we both flop onto it as we catch our breath. Before long, we’re both staring up at the clear night sky, and I wish I could reach out and turn off every townhome’s back light so we can see the stars better.
As much as I keep telling myself that I only like Charlie as a neighbor, I know I’m lying to myself. I like her as much more than that, and I don’t want to lie here, looking at the sky with my neighbor. I want to lie here next to the woman I am hopelessly falling for.
We are looking up at the stars when Charlie asks, “So, what made you choose to be an architectural restoration specialist?”
Well, I can’t say it was because I wanted to start falling for someone, but I know I can’t because I’m already under contract to move to another state before long. I don’t tell her that, though.