Page 158 of The Moment You Know

DAVID: I know you’re reading these. So, here’s the deal. If you don’t talk to me now, I’ll come see you at work, which I know you love. We can do this here, or at work … it’s up to you.

DAVID: Actually, never mind. It’s late and I’m getting tired, so I’m going home to get some shut-eye and I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Sleep well.

Almost immediately, his phone rang with an incoming FaceTime request from Paige. Smiling, he quickly accepted the request and her face came onscreen; she looked anxious, unsure, and conflicted all at once.

Just as he told her, “Open the door,” the door behind him and across the hall opened and a woman stepped out. She was older (like she might have actually cast a vote for FDR on his first presidential run), with silver-white hair and a heavily lined face. She was also frowning and looked like she was thinking about grabbing her purse from inside her apartment, then hitting him with it.

He didn’t need this.

“It’s after 10 p.m. What’s going on out here?” the old woman asked.

“Oh, shit,” David heard Paige say through the phone, but it was accompanied by a quickly stifled laugh.

“Nothing’s going on out here.” David turned to the old woman and gave her a smile. “I’m sorry if we disturbed you.”

“We?” She looked at him like he was a convicted felon, out on parole and about to violate it by committing murder. “The only person I’m hearing is you.”

His smile wasn’t going to work on her, apparently, so he decided to turn on the charm. “I’m really sorry, ma’am, I—”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I really hate that. My name is Dolores—Dolly to my friends.” This was said without any warmth whatsoever. “To you, I’m Mrs. Harte,” she added, but before he could fully register that bit of rudeness, she was demanding, “And who might you be?”

This was the elderly neighbor Paige had befriended? The one who couldn’t tolerate spicy food? “I’m David.”

“You need a haircut, David.”

David could hear Paige laughing at the blunt insult and he gave her a dirty look via FaceTime, which only made her laugh more behind her hand.

“Well? What’s going on out here?” Mrs. Harte asked again, this time with more impatience.

He decided to just be straight with her and to hell with charm, which wasn’t working anyway. “I was just trying to talk to Paige.”

“Through a closed door? No wonder you were yelling.”

He really didn’t need this; but on the bright side, his raging boner had gone away. “I wasn’t yelling. Okay, maybe a little. But I was trying to get her to open the door so we could talk. Face to face.”

To Paige, he mouthed, Open the door.

To his irritation, she shook her head.

“Is there a reason she’s not opening the door? Did you do something stupid? That’s the problem men have, more often than not.” Mrs. Harte crossed her arms across her narrow chest. “Tell me what you did.”

His manners were seriously being tested by this woman. “That’s between Paige and I.”

“Paige and me.”

“What?”

“Proper grammar is ‘That’s between Paige and me’.” Mrs. Harte said, before muttering, “The education system in this country has really gone to hell.”

“Sorry. That’s between Paige and me,” he said, hearing Paige’s laughter once again. “Thank you for correcting me.”

“Well, David, since you woke me up with all your noise, it’s now between you, Paige, and me. And maybe the police. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to get them involved.”

From his phone, Paige suddenly called out, “We’re sorry, Dolly! David was just leaving.”

“No. I wasn’t,” he protested.

Mrs. Harte looked at the phone in David’s hand. “Well, this just got really weird. Is that Paige on the phone?”

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