Chapter 7 #2
“I know,” Louise said with a shrug. “But that’s when you often find the love of your life, when you’re not looking. Sometimes that person can be right under your nose. Right, Martin?”
“Right,” Martin agreed. The smile he gave Louise was all hearts and kisses. Funny how blind her mother was when it came to what was right under her nose.
Zona cleared the table and left them to visit while she cleaned up. She could still hear them out there talking after she’d finished. There was never a lull in conversation between those two.
Louise laughed at something he said. They didn’t need her company so she went out to the backyard to see if she could find where Darling had gotten out.
There it was, a nice deep hole beneath a section of the fence between them and their new neighbor. Ugh.
Well, it was a first offense. And one hole did not a doggy felon make. She fetched a shovel from the toolshed and got to work filling it in. She was halfway through when she heard a female squeal of disgust coming from next door, followed by a male voice demanding to know what the matter was.
“Dog poop,” wailed the female voice. Oh, no. A second deposit from Darling.
Zona heard the male voice swear. She felt her cheeks heating and was glad no one could see her.
Her face probably looked lobster red. She would have to go over later and explain about Darling getting loose.
Once she’d filled Alec James in on what was going on with her mother, he’d understand. Hopefully.
She patted down the dirt she’d replaced, returned the shovel to the shed, and then came in and washed up. Louise and Martin were still chatting, so it seemed the perfect time to go next door and apologize.
Darling was immediately dancing at her side, ready to go with her. “I’ll take you out in a little bit,” she promised, “but I don’t think you’ll be welcomed where I’m going.”
He whined as she gave him a gentle shove away from the front door and then slipped out.
Some of the day’s heat had drifted away, leaving behind a pleasant warmth, and the gardenias from the bush in her mother’s front yard were sending out their perfume.
She could hear children’s shouts and laughter coming from a few houses down, a sure sign that the grade schoolers who lived there were enjoying the pool in their backyard.
Her neighborhood could have been a movie set, all calm and tranquil: Mayberry, the California version.
Except as she approached her neighbor’s front door, doggy-do bag in hand to show she intended to clean up both messes, it didn’t sound like Mayberry.
She could hear raised voices inside through the front door, though she couldn’t make out the words.
She leaned in closer and heard what sounded like a cupboard slam.
And was that something breaking? What was going on in there?
The living room drapes were closed so she couldn’t see.
Should she ring the doorbell and find out?
She pressed her ear to the door, but words were still muffled. Suddenly, she heard a shriek. It made her jump a step back. The rumble of an angry male voice pushed her another step away.
This was obviously not a good time to come calling. She backed off the porch, half afraid the front door would fly open, and her neighbor would come out and demand to know what she was doing on his property.
She had a good reason for being on his property, looking like an eavesdropper. The little bag was proof of that.
But she could apologize for Darling’s bad behavior another time.
She hurried over to the scene of Darling’s crimes and scooped up the mess sitting on the walk as best she could.
Next, she stopped at the yard, where Darling had also left a present, and got that, too.
Then she speed-walked back to her own property, her heart beating fast for no good reason, and got rid of the evidence.
Back in her mother’s house, everything was calm. Martin and Louise were still talking, demonstrating how civilized people behaved.
Although Louise was looking drawn and tired.
“How are you doing, Mom?” Zona asked.
“I’m starting to hurt,” Louise confessed.
“You need to stay ahead of the pain,” Martin cautioned, and she nodded. He stood. “I’d better scram and let you relax.”
Louise didn’t encourage him to stay, a sure sign that she was, indeed, done for the day.
Zona walked him to the door. “Thanks for everything,” she said.
“Anything for your mother,” he replied. “I’ll be happy to stop by and look in on her while you’re at work. And walk Darling.”
“You’re a good friend, Martin,” Zona said.
He wanted to be more, she knew it, and he probably knew that she knew it. But he left that unspoken. Instead, he said, “Call if you need anything.”
“We will,” she promised.
She stood for a moment, watching him go down the front walk.
He was so easygoing, so caring, so . . .
unimpressive. Her own father had been handsome and fit.
Louise had always been a little too proud of his looks, and she would probably never settle for less in a partner.
It was too bad, really, but the heart wanted what the heart wanted.
Zona frowned. What a stupid expression. Hearts never wanted what was good for them. She was sure never letting hers have its way ever again.
She looked over to Alec James’s house. The red PT Cruiser was still parked out front. She strained to listen for sounds of arguing but heard nothing. Of course, she wouldn’t. She was too far away.
“None of your business,” she told herself.
Then remembered her mother’s conversation with Gilda about murdering spouses. “Oh, stop,” she muttered, and shut the door.
Louise was already up on her crutches. “I’m pooped.”
“I bet you are. Let’s get you in bed and get another pain pill in you.”
“Let’s get you to bed,” Louise repeated bitterly. “I feel like I’m five.”
“Just please don’t act like it,” Zona said. “No pouting.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You know, this isn’t going to be so bad,” Zona said as she and Darling accompanied Louise to her bedroom to change. “Martin’s going to spoil you rotten and you and Gilda are going to have fun talking about murderers.”
Louise did half smile at that. “Yes, I think we are. I’m not sure she and Darling are going to become friends though.”
“Darling has enough friends,” said Zona, and Louise chuckled.
Then she sobered. “Did you see how he got out?”
“Yes, he dug under the fence. I’ve filled in the hole.”
“Good. We don’t want him getting loose again.”
“Our new neighbor sure doesn’t. Darling left a present over there and he stepped in it this morning.”
“He did? How do you know?”
“I was about to go out and heard his reaction.”
“It could have been some other dog.”
“Could have, but I doubt it.”
“Should you go over and apologize?”
“I tried while you and Martin were visiting, but it wasn’t a good time.”
“Oh?”
“I told you he’s got someone. She drives a red PT Cruiser. They were fighting. I went to the door to explain about Darling getting loose and I could hear them inside, screaming at each other.”
“Oh, dear. You’re right. It wasn’t a good time,” Louise said. “I hate it when men yell. Your father never yelled.”
Neither had either of Zona’s husbands. She’d always been the one doing the yelling, though she didn’t mention that to her mother.
“I’ll catch up with him at some point,” she said.
“But keep your distance when you do. It sounds like he’s got a temper.”
“So now you’re saying our neighbor is dangerous.”
“Probably not. But maybe it’s just as well he’s with someone. You don’t need a man with a short fuse. They can become abusive, and you’ve already put up with enough.”
She sure had. Alec James was a fine-looking specimen, but good-looking men were a little like walnuts.
The shell might look fine, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t find something rotten inside once you broke it open.
Anyway, she was done with men and done with love.
Both had brought her enough pain to last a lifetime.
She helped Louise settle in for the night, then got Darling’s leash and took him for a walk.
The red PT Cruiser was still parked in the driveway next door, so things must have settled down between Alec James and that woman.
Either that or he’d barked her into submission, and she was currently huddled in a corner, whimpering.
“Oh, stop,” Zona told herself.
She was living in a normal boring neighborhood. Scenarios like the ones that played out on true crime programs were few and far between. People fought all the time and even yelled, then made up. For all she knew, her neighbors were over there having make-up sex at that very moment.
But their interaction had sounded so . . . intense.
She’d done some intense arguing herself. Yelling didn’t mean a thing.
Why was it so quiet over there now?