The ride home is a bit more bubbly and jubilant than other times. I turn the dial to a local radio station that only plays pop music and let myself be lulled into my own carpool karaoke when Katy Perry comes on.
I’m not even embarrassed when a carload of teens pulls up next to me at a stoplight in town and catches me singing at the top of my lungs.
I’m back.
TWELVE
Bex
The smell of chai fills the air. Closing my eyes, I take a giant whiff of my drink. I’d treated myself to a latte on the way home after spending the morning with Mrs. Rosenblatt. Who knew one woman would have so much trouble trying to pick out a new color of carpet for her apartment?
The week has been surprisingly productive. Since Austin’s sudden “come to Jesus” moment (a term that my new friend, Eric the landscaper, taught me), life has been so much easier. The song “Lovely Day” is stuck on repeat in my head simply because it fits.
Even Pearl, whose kitchen had caught on fire a few weeks ago and was still seething over Austin’s lack of help, was beginning to thaw. The first time I met her, she’d let me know for several minutes how disappointed she was with him, making sure I was aware that she could have moved anywhere else in town but wanted to live in her particular apartment because the Porter boys always seemed so kind. But Austin’s actions had upset her to no end.
Fast forward to today. I dropped by to touch base and make sure she’s ready for her new oven and stove to be put in next week, and she’s waiting with a bouquet of flowers to thank me for having Austin call her. Apparently, their conversation had been a good one.
Do I pat myself on the back? Maybe a little. Can’t lie, it makes me happy to hear he’s showing up. Like he owes me anything, which he doesn’t, but the fact he’s doing it for himself and the flow-on means his family is happy, well, that makes me happy.
The sound of an engine idling nearby lets me know that Jared’s here. I peek out the window and find Aladdin tip-toeing up to the mailboxes. He hangs out for a moment, most likely just doing his job, but then his head snaps up and he looks over my way suddenly. Busted.
My hand lifts in the air on its own, like it has a string attached to it and there’s a puppeteer somewhere making it move. Aladdin/Jared waves back, then does a leap in the air before he skips back to his car and takes off.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. Part of me hopes I never do.
Smiling, I grab my notepad off the counter and look over my to-do list. I’m ticking my way through it. I’ve spoken to the tenants I need to, organized workmen, and emailed a list of what’s happening to both Austin and Levi, plus I managed to get my own HVAC unit sorted out. That will go in next week, too.
There’s only one name left on my list: Eric the landscaper. I drag my eyes toward the window, looking out at the hedge beyond. What am I going to do? On one hand, I have every right to do what I want. On the other hand, I have a neighbor I’m getting along with now. A neighbor who is my boss. I’d prefer not to rock the boat if I can help it.
But Eric is coming back over this week and he wants to know…will it stay or will it go?
I peer across to Austin’s house and see the red truck parked in the drive, along with a Toyota Tercel that appears every few days. I hate bothering anyone when they have company, but I need to deal with this and see if we can find some kind of compromise in the hedge.
Opening the door, I’m greeted by Harley, who pushes her way past me and saunters into the living room, plopping down on the floor near the fireplace.
“Come on in, why don’t you?” I say with a laugh, shaking my head as I close the door behind me and head across the field. I’ve not left Harley alone in there before, but something tells me she’ll be fine.
In no time I’m in front of Austin’s door, knocking away. I’m a little surprised when a pretty blonde with perfect makeup, in perfect shape, and wearing her hair pulled up into a cute little bun on top of her head opens the door.
“Can I help you?” she asks, perkiness dancing on each word.
I start to open my mouth, but I’m interrupted.
“Hey, Bex,” Austin says. I peek over her shoulder and find him standing in the hallway behind her grinning. He looks at the blonde. “Amy, this is Bex, my neighbor and also a colleague of mine. Bex, meet Amy. She’s my house cleaner.”
Amy grimaces slightly at the introduction, and I find myself admiring her makeup—which also makes me question how many house cleaners out there put on full makeup glam, as if they were getting ready to debut on a television show, to go to work? Granted, there are some who will, and good for them, but add in the perfectly pressed white shirt and the linen pants she’s wearing and I’m beginning to doubt this woman is really a cleaner of any kind.
“Nice to meet you,” I say as I step inside the doorway and angle past. I point to Austin. “I’m here to see that guy.”
“Hmmm.” She grunts, narrowing her eyes as she steps out of the way.
Austin, who has been watching Amy, slides his gaze over to me. “What’s up?”
“Should I have texted?” I tease.
“No, I think we’re past that, don’t you?” he says with a grin. “I’m in here putting a bookshelf together. Come on, you can read the instructions to me while we talk.”
“Sure.”
