Page 1 of The Reward of You

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“Sam? Sam!” The exasperated high-pitched voice finally cuts through the reggae tunes blasting in my ears. I turn from the ancient camellia bush I’m attempting not to murder with my amateur pruning and find Bea from next door staring at me with wide brown eyes full of expectation.

I pull the earbuds out slowly so I can assess the situation before having to respond. Bea is about eight or nine and full of drama. At least she is when she comes to find me.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?” I’ve learned not to lead with any assumptions when it comes to Bea.

Her skinny arms fold firmly over her flat chest as she glares. “Why are boys so stupid?”

I set my loppers down on the front step and bite my lip to stop the grin. This is going to be interesting.

Walking over to the low picket fence that divides my property from Bea’s, or rather her mom’s, I pause to consider my words carefully. Bea’s little face scrunches with impatience.

“Kid, if I had the answer to that one, not only would I be a billionaire, but I’d be proving you wrong.”

“Huh?”

I smirk down at her. “I’m a boy, aren’t I? If I knew why we were all stupid, I’d be the smartest person on the planet and therefore not stupid, right?”

She rolls her eyes, but I can see her lips twitch. “You’re not a boy. You’re like twenty-five or something.”

This time, the grin breaks past my defenses. “Or something, definitely.” I nod my head in agreement. “So which boy got on your nerves, and what did he do?”

“It’s Sam. Not you, Sam from school. He didn’t believe me when I said I made this valentine for you, not him.” She huffs out a breath of annoyance while handing me a folded heart made from red construction paper, some of the pencil lines used to trace the shape still visible. But mostly what I see is the big scrawledI Love You Sam!And signed with all the names in Bea’s family, including her stuffed dog. I know it’s at least partially a lie. Pretty sure her older sister and mom don’t see me as anything more than the neighborhood furniture, but the thought is nice. And maybe Bea added all the other names after this kid started teasing her just to prove her point. Considering how the letters get smaller and smaller as she ran out of space, that’s probably it.

“Ah, Bea. That’s the best valentine I’ve gotten this year. Thanks, kid.” No need to tell her it’s the only valentine I’veevergotten.

Bea beams in response and then frowns again. “So how do I prove it to the other Sam? Cause he called me a liar.”

I rake my hair through with my fingers several times. It’s been a long time since I was her age and I can’t imagine either of them will remember this even a week from now.

“He was probably hoping it was for him, kid. You sure you want to rub his nose in it that it wasn’t?”

She nods emphatically, earnestness shining from her dark eyes. Behind her, a sleek black car pulls into the driveway and Bea’s mom, Noelle, emerges quickly. Her attention is on gathering her briefcase and juggling her coffee mug and keys. So I take a second to admire the smooth curve of her calves beneath her navy pencil skirt as she bends over to collect her things from the car. She scurries to the front door and only then notices Bea on the side of the property. “Bea! What are you doing outside in the rain? Stop bothering Sam and come inside. Dinner will be here in five minutes.” Noelle fumbles with her keys and only then seems to realize that if Bea is outside, the door is probably unlocked. Her cheeks flush slightly and she gives me an embarrassed half smile before disappearing inside. “Bea!” she calls again, the exasperation in her voice a dead match for her daughter’s earlier.

“Better get going, kid. Maybe ask your mom for some suggestions. I’ll bet she taught a few idiots a lesson or two when she was in school.”

Bea furrows her brow, looking back at the open front door to her house. “You think? Mom says she always had her nose buried in a book.”

“Ask her anyway.”

Bea gives a hesitant nod and scurries back inside. My valentine is starting to get a little soggy, so I take it inside and fix it carefully to the front of the refrigerator. It wasn’t raining that hard, more of a typical Northwest drizzle. Still, I don’t want such a precious gift to get damaged before I’ve had a chance to enjoy it. I head back out to collect my tools and decide that’s enough landscaping for today. It’s already getting dark. I glance over again at the house next door. It’s a little bigger than mine, and definitely fancier when it comes to the landscaping and the paint job. Not to mention the owner.

Noelle is probably a few years younger than me, in her mid thirties and smoking hot. She’s also some kind of administrator at the college. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been avoiding signing up for any classes there, like my friends keep suggesting. They think it’s the best place for me to meet brainy women, which are the only kind that get me truly hot under the collar. It would be weird running into her there and nearly impossible to explain my presence. “Hi, yeah, I’m here because I’m a sucker for smart women and I know I’m not good enough for you, so I thought I’d check out the students.” I cringe just thinking about it. Plus, I really don’t want to check out the barely-not-teenagers. I want a woman who can call me on my shit and mean it. The problem is finding one that wants to bother. I sigh and head back inside to figure out what I’m having for dinner.

I don’t really want to know what my sexy as sin next-door neighbor thinks of me. Uptight bitch springs to mind, which I would deserve in a way. I’ve not exactly been warm in my few interactions with him since he moved in a year ago.

And that’s okay by me if it means he avoids talking to me because I cringe with embarrassment every time I see him. And yet I can’t stop looking. I have to limit my perusal to brief glances when the girls are awake, so they don’t start asking questions. But in the summer when it stays light, I can glance out my windows when the girls are in bed and stare to my heart’s content. For about thirty seconds, anyway, before he inevitably senses eyes on him and starts to turn around.

My deep, dark, dirty secret that has me acting like a thirteen-year-old? An ancient man candy calendar from my senior year in college stashed in my bathroom drawer under the hot water bottle so the girls don’t find it. It was a charity fundraiser for animal shelters that his military unit did. Not only does it feature a bare-chested Sam, but his face is being licked by an enthusiastic German Shepherd. His lopsided grin is both sexy and endearing. My bathroom has a special nail for my ancient calendar reserved just for me time in the tub. Mr. April was always my favorite month. And that was before he moved in next door.

However, talking to the much younger version of Sam on the calendar is a new habit. “I’m sorry, okay? If I talk to you in real life, I’ll spill all my secrets and trust me, you do not want to know them.”

Calendar Sam smolders back with laughing eyes. Eyelashes like that on a man should be illegal. And he still has them, damn him. Dark and long, extending from heavy lids that obscure pale gray eyes.

I dump a glop of magnolia-scented bubble bath into the tub and turn on the hot water, watching the foam build with satisfaction. I no longer have the nerve to brazenly strip in front of Calendar Sam, so I turn my back. Pretty sure I’ve gone over the edge, but it feels too real, like the printed page is a proxy for the real thing.

Sliding into the warm water with the bubbles preserving my modesty (in a completely empty room) I stare back at Calendar Sam, imagining it’s his broad thumbs rotating my nipples into stiff points. I didn’t stand a chance of that happening when I was a naïve college kid and now, as a middle-aged mother of two, if anything, I’ve backslid.

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