Chapter 8
THE NEXT MORNING ZONA WAS HAULING in a huge box left by on her porch when Darling made his third great escape, leaping over the obstacle. She tried to catch him but only fell over it, landing with an “Oof,” like a track runner who’d missed the hurdle.
“Darling!” she called, scrambling to her feet. “Come here!” Darling kept going. “Treat! Come get a treat,” she added hopefully. He’d heard that word enough. He should have known what it meant.
Apparently, he didn’t, since he kept going. Or he’d lost either his hearing or his appetite. Or the lure of freedom to rove all over the neighborhood outweighed doggy house arrest, no matter what was being served.
Louise picked that moment to come swinging out of her room on her crutches. “What’s happened?” she demanded as Zona carried the box back inside.
“I was bringing this in and Darling got loose,” Zona said. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get him,” she hurried to add. “I’ll just put on some shorts and grab my shoes.” No way was she running around the neighborhood in her sleep tee.
The words were barely out of her mouth when a male voice asked, “This is your dog, right?”
She stood up to see Alec James on her doorstep, holding onto Darling’s collar. Darling was whining and straining to get free.
Her neighbor was dressed for work in a pec-hugging gray T-shirt and jeans and boots, freshly shaved and frowning.
Zona found herself feeling self-conscious over her sloppy nightwear and messy hair, which looked like bats had used it for a playground. She was almost as embarrassed over how she was coming across as a neighbor.
She took hold of Darling’s collar and scooted him inside the house, then stepped out to join her surprise visitor on the porch, shutting the door after her.
“He’s my mother’s dog,” she began. Underlying message, Don’t blame me.
“I’m afraid he got out when I was trying to bring in a package,” she continued, hoping her morning breath wasn’t making its way to her neighbor’s nose.
Even if she wasn’t interested, she still had her pride.
“I found him taking a dump in my yard,” Alec James said, sounding more put-upon and long-suffering than angry.
“I did see that Darling had left a mess on your property and I came over last night to clean it up and apologize.” And tried to eavesdrop.
Zona the nosy neighbor. She could feel her cheeks heating. “But I think you had company,” she hurried on. “I did my best to pick it up.”
“It doesn’t pick up well once it’s flattened by a shoe,” he informed her.
It put a sizzle on her face. “Sorry,” she said.
The frown downgraded to a frustrated lip clamp. “Never mind.” He switched gears and offered the same killer smile she’d seen when they first met. “Sorry I came across as a tool just now. I’m dealing with some shit.” Judging from the yelling she’d heard, he wasn’t dealing very well.
“Sorry you stepped in some,” she said, smiling back.
“Shit happens, huh?” he joked.
“It sure does,” she agreed. “We’re deep in it over here.”
“I guess there’s always enough to go around,” he said. “Well, have a good one.”
“You, too,” she said.
She watched as he went down her front walk. It was hard to picture this man in a yelling rage. What to make of their new neighbor?
Nothing, she told herself firmly.
“You were out there a long time,” Louise called from the couch when Zona came back inside. “What was that all about?”
Zona joined her on the couch. Darling came over and laid his head on her lap as if to say he was sorry, and she rubbed behind his ears. “Our new neighbor was trying to be nice about Darling pooping on his property.”
“I hope he wasn’t mad.”
“A little irritated. I can’t blame him. It was a second offense. Third, actually.”
“Oh, dear,” said Louise.
“At least he was cool about it. Nice, actually. Way different than what I heard last night when I went over to clean up the mess and apologize.”
Still, even someone nice was bound to yell if pushed hard enough. What had pushed Alec James?
“People often hide who they really are under a veneer of politeness,” said Louise.
Zona had seen two sides of Alec James. Was the nice side just a veneer?
Okay, that was enough analyzing the neighbor. She had things to do.
“Never mind him,” she said. “Let’s get you ready for the day. Then I’ll take Darling for a walk. After that I’ll get your shower chair assembled so it will be ready for when we need it,” she said, pointing at the large box.
“There goes your day,” Louise said, shaking her head. She scooted forward, leaning on her crutches, bracing to stand, and Zona moved to help her up. “I’m making so much work for you,” she said sadly.
“I made enough work for you when I was growing up,” pointed out Zona.
Louise had lost a baby when Zona was a toddler and had turned into a helicopter parent.
Zona in turn had eventually bolted for freedom every chance she got, just like Darling, sneaking out to unsanctioned teen parties, trying weed, sneaking into bars, keeping Louise running for the hair salon to hide a growing crop of gray hairs.
And now here she was, a needy adult, back home after her latest slide sideways. Nothing her mother could require would ever be too much.
“I loved every minute of it,” Louise assured her as they made their way to the bedroom. “And I love having you here with me. I just wish it was under happier circumstances. For both of us.”
“I guess even if circumstances can’t be happy, we can. Right?”
Louise smiled at her. “Yes, we can.”
Zona smiled, too. She wasn’t even remotely happy about what had landed her in her current situation, putting her back at the proverbial square one, and she felt sorry that her mother had missed out on her big adventure.
But she was happy that they had each other and enjoyed a good relationship.
They had food in the pantry, a lovely house to live in, and good friends. It was more than many people had.
After she helped Louise get dressed and gave her a smoothie and a pain pill, she got herself showered and dressed and then took Darling out for a walk.
Alec James’s truck was gone, but the red PT Cruiser was still parked in the driveway, and she could hear the music of Nigerian rapper Olamide, one of Bree’s favorites, drifting out from inside the house.
Which meant it was cranked up high. The pretty redhead in there was already in party mode.
Obviously, nothing horrible had happened next door.
Zona found herself wondering if the woman worked. She was pretty enough to be a model. Maybe she was. Or maybe she was in between jobs. Or maybe Alec James had said, “You don’t need to work, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
Thinking of the raised voices she’d heard, Zona thought of the controlling husbands in the true crime shows her mother watched.
Maybe he was like them. Maybe he had his woman convinced she needed him and would be nothing without him.
There were men like that out there. Thank God Zona had at least avoided that kind of loser.
Still, he didn’t seem like the type. She shared her theory when she got back home and she and Louise were in the living room, drinking coffee, Zona in a chair, Louise on the couch, with Darling lying on the floor next to her. Yep, sure done analyzing the neighbor.
“With all the yelling you heard, it’s certainly possible,” said Louise. “If he hurt her, he probably apologized later, promised it would never happen again. He’ll come home with flowers or jewelry.”
“Yuck,” said Zona. “Of course, we’re just speculating here,” she added, reeling in her imagination.
“But still, whatever’s going on over there doesn’t sound good.” Louise shook her head. “I’d hoped he might be someone you could get interested in.”
“I’ve come to the conclusion there’s no one for me,” Zona said. There was a sad thought. But this was the hand she’d been dealt, and she’d have to play it.
No, no, no! No gambling metaphors.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Louise insisted. “You’ll find someone wonderful eventually. But it won’t be this man. He could have the woman with him brainwashed. The Svengali effect.”
“Who the heck is that?”
Louise looked at Zona in surprise. “How is it you’ve never heard of Svengali?”
“You never read me any bedtime stories about him?” Zona cracked.
“He was a fictional controlling monster. There are plenty of men out there like that. Men who are charming and seem normal, but they overpower and manipulate. Sounds like our neighbor, doesn’t it? It just goes to show, you can’t trust a man with two first names.”
“Oh, that’s the problem,” Zona teased. “So, I guess our new neighbor isn’t going to turn out to be my perfect man after all?”
Louise gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It looks like I was wrong. And it’s a good thing you never took him any cookies.”
“Yes, he might have lured me into his house and Svengalied me.”
Louise didn’t laugh. “Like I said earlier, people can be good at hiding who they are. Take that man in LA, the one who murdered his wife and chopped her up and stuck her in the freezer. Everyone thought he was so nice.”
“I don’t think our neighbor is planning to chop up his girlfriend and stick her in the freezer.”
“Who knows? Let’s not be getting neighborly with him.”
“No worries there,” said Zona. She already had two love strikes against her. She wasn’t about to go for a third.
“I’M GETTING SQUIRMY,” Louise complained. “I hate all this sitting around.”
“Maybe you need to start writing your book, Gram,” suggested Bree, who’d stopped by to visit. “Have you started working on it yet?” The book Louise kept talking about writing but kept postponing.
“I’m not in a good place right now,” she said.
“But isn’t that a good thing? You probably have all kinds of negativity swirling around in you that will make a great murder mystery,” Bree said.
“There’s nothing swirling here. We are a hotbed of boredom,” Louise complained.
“Spy on the neighbor,” Bree joked. “You might get inspired.”
“Oh, there’s a good idea. Everyone should spy on their neighbor,” Zona said in disgust. She’d already come a little too close for comfort to doing that herself.
“People spy on each other all the time,” said Bree.
“Yeah? Who’s spying on you?” Zona retorted.
“You. You’re always wanting to know what’s going on with me and Fen. Which is nothing, by the way.”
“Well, that’s boring,” said Louise.
“You’ve got the neighbor. You don’t need me,” Bree joked.
AND I’M ABOUT as exciting as a slug, Bree thought on Friday afternoon as she let herself into her shared apartment.
No one was there when she arrived and that was mildly depressing.
She should have gone to the mall with Gaylyn and Monique.
Not that she would have bought anything.
Recreational spending was so far gone it wasn’t even in the rearview mirror.
Well, except for Mrs. Fields. She’d have splurged on a cookie.
Bree hated living in a social void. Which was what her weekend was going to be if she didn’t make some plans. She needed to come up with something fun to do.
Fen. He’d be up for a good time. Just as friends, of course. He knew the rules.
She texted him.
Hey what U doing 2nite
Wedding rehearsal Need a date Sat Want 2 come
Weddings. When she was little, she’d thought weddings were better than Disneyland—the bride in her gorgeous gown, the music, the beautiful cake, and the big party where she never got to stay long because her mom was always informing her that she was tired and it was time for bed.
After running around the reception and trying to imitate the grown-ups dancing, she usually was tired by the time Mom took her home.
She’d been eight when Mom married Gary and had been her mom’s flower girl.
Mom had let her help choose the wedding colors and decide on the cake.
Gary had danced with her and told her she looked like a princess.
She’d felt like a princess in her fancy dress.
It had all seemed so perfect, especially when her own dad wasn’t much in the picture.
But then as she’d moved through grade school and middle school, she’d started seeing the wedding fairy tales go bad all around her, her friends’ parents splitting up, the fighting and having to get shuttled back and forth between houses.
One of her friends’ dads had cheated just like Bree’s dad had done, another’s dad was balking at paying child support and the mom was mad and telling everyone about it.
Happily-ever-after gone sour. She told herself it wouldn’t ever happen in her family.
Dad was a mess, but Gary was solid. He loved her mom and her. They were golden.
And then they weren’t. And it was just Mom and her, reeling from the shock of having their lives turned upside down.
Weddings were a joke.
No thanx, she texted back. Byeee
She’d find something to do. She’d text Gaylyn and meet up with her and Monique.
Then Saturday she’d talk Gaylyn into going to Lost Worlds with her.
She’d play laser tag and find some cute snack of a guy to hang out with.
Much smarter than going to a wedding and drinking the happily-ever-after Kool-Aid.
A stupid thought stole into her mind. What if there really was such a thing as happily-ever-after, like what Auntie Gracie had? What if you could get it right?
It was a big what-if, and she’d seen the dark side of playing that game. She would have to be insane to follow in her mother’s shaky footsteps and rush into love. She hoped Mom had learned her lesson. The last thing they needed was for Mom to drag them into another mess.
In the end, she wound up hanging out with Monique that evening, binge-watching episodes of Love Is Blind. Gaylyn had plans. Of course she did. How was it that Gaylyn always managed to find the guys who didn’t want commitment?
What was Fen doing? Had he met some cute bridesmaid and fallen for her? Had they gone out for drinks after all the rehearsal stuff?
Oh, who cared!