Page 9 of Noble Neighbor
“Clement says they have a parrot, Mommy. His name is Harvey, and he talks. And sings,” Molly said with wonder in her voice and worship in her eyes as she gazed at the young boy.
Her girls’ fascination with Clement was bittersweet.Had she isolated them too much? In protecting them, had she inadvertently deprived them of human contact,forcing them to latch onto the first kid showing them attention?
But Clement was a sweet boy. And their neighbor. A deeper connection wouldn’t harm.
“And Clement says he’ll show us whittling,” Kenzie cut in, giving her sister a slight scowl.
“Whittling?” Sunny cocked her head, and he turned beet red under her scrutiny. “You whittle?”
“Yes, ma’am. Grandpa taught me.”
“He’s got a tube, Mommy,” Molly added.
“A tube?”
“A YouTube channel. I have some ‘How To’ videos. I was collecting driftwood when I found … you.” Clement crouched, straightening an already precisely lined sleeping bag.
Is that why you’ve been hovering, Clement? Are you being our little protector?
Her heart went out to the boy. “I’m sorry we gave you such a fright,” she murmured. “Tell you what — if your dad’s okay with it, we’d love to have you stay.”
Clement rushed home, returning a while later with his grandpa in a vintage Cadillac. Apinkone. Enthralled, Frank became her girls’ hero, temporarily nudging Clement from his pedestal.
“Her name’s Priscilla. A 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz,” Frank said, running a hand over the gleaming surface. “My Miriam was an Elvis fan, and when we married, we rented a vehicle just like this one for the occasion. After Miriam passed” — his eyes drifted to the side as he scratched the back of his head — “I found Priscilla for sale, and it seemed fittin’ to buy her.”
The love for his wife, and the pain of her death, was evident in his voice. And just as Clement wormed a way into her heart earlier, so did Frank with his touching story.
What was it with these Armstrong men?
“Can we go for a ride, Mr. Frank?” Kenzie pleaded.
Alarmed, Sunny shot Frank a look. He might’ve chipped away at her wariness, but letting her girls go in a car with a man they’d only met today? No way. She opened her mouth to respond, but Frank beat her to it.
“Got some chores to do, little miss,” he said with a ready smile. “But for sure another day.”
Sunny changed the subject. “Clement told us about your parrot. You taught him Elvis songs?”
“Nah, that was all Miriam’s doin’. Played those recordsall day long, singin’ along.Poor bird — that’s all he heard.” For a moment, the man seemed lost in memories, staring past her shoulders, unseeing. Then he smiled, adding, “I hear Miriam every time that bird opens his mouth. Now” — Frank clapped his hands, then rubbed them — “how about y’all come help me carry? I made a pot of sausage mac 'n cheese earlier and brought some for dinner. A welcome to Chicory Lane.”
“Wow, Frank. Thank you,” Sunny said.
He handed Molly a wicker basket brimming with bread rolls and another to Kenzie. From the clatter, Sunny reckoned it contained plates and cutlery.
A real home-cooked meal and no paper and plastic tonight. What a treat.“Think I might’ve just fallen for you, Frank,” she admitted.
A beaming smile split the man’s rugged face. “Well, now, Sunny-girl, that’s the nicest compliment this old geezer’s gotten all week.”
Sunny took an appreciative sniff as Frank handed off the foil-covered casserole dish to Clement. “Keep plying us with food that smells that good? You’ll get one every time.”
“Grandpa’s the best cook. Far better than Dad,” Clement added.
“Yes, well.” Frank chuckled. “My son can weave a masterful story, but a cook he ain’t.”
Hmm, so her delectable neighbor wasn’t perfect.Good to know. Then her eyes snapped to Frank. “Oliver … writes?” Her heart thudded.Let him not be a reporter.
Frank nodded, giving her a sheepish look. “Mysteries.A. C. Strong. But he doesn’t like people knowing, so don’t tell him I blabbed to you.”
Accepting Clement’s tightly rolled sleeping bag and loose pillow from the man, she forced a light smile. “I won’t.”
