Page 21 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
Tanner recently started working for Boone and is basically the town handyman.
“Hey there, Lottie.”
Peering around Tanner, I find Mr. Abboud moseying up my walkway with my mail. He’s been the postmaster in town for over thirty years, and whenever possible, he hands everyone their mail.
“Hey, Mr. Abboud. Busy day?”
“No more than yesterday. Heard about our new resident though, real shame about that.” He touches his nose as he always does when referring to Scuttlebutt business. He seems to be the only one in town who still thinks his membership in the Scuttlebutt Society is a secret.
“Yeah, ’bout that,” Tanner says, dropping his toolbox. He bends over and pulls out a sheet of paper, then hands it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Mr. Abboud leans in to take a closer look as I skim the note.
“Oh, I heard he did that. Real sweet if you ask me.” Mr. Abboud clucks his approval. “Little misguided here in Sweetbriar, but real sweet to think of ya anyway.”
“Tanner, does this say that Thane hired you to put locks on all my doors and windows?”
“Sure does, Miss Lottie. Mr. Thane was real clear that I’m not to take no for an answer. And between you and me, please don’t tell me no. Mr. Wilder was…a little terrifying on the phone, and he hired us to do a bunch of stuff at his house, so I don’t want to make him angry.”
Inner peace and kindness. Inner fucking peace and kindness.It’s my go-to meditation when I need strength, but it hasn’t been working since Thane freaking Wilder moved in next door.
“He’s not terrifying, Tanner,” I say, reaching for serenity. “He doesn’t hear tone the same way you and I do, so sometimes he just needs a little reminder.”
“Now ain’t that interesting.” Mr. Abboud hands me a stack of mail.
“What kind of reminder?” Tanner asks.
“I don’t have a clue,” I admit.
“Maybe we just need to say the word tone, like a trigger word. Marigold was reading about those in some magazine she got for the grandbaby.”
“No, I don’t?—”
“Yup, I like that idea.” Tanner opens the door to my home, letting himself in.
Maybe a new lock won’t be such a bad idea after all.
“Tanner, just hold on a minute.”
“Hey, Betty. The new kid doesn’t hear tone,” Mr. Abboud shouts to her on the sidewalk, then turns to me. “Does that mean he’s deaf?”
Oh my God. “No, Mr. Abboud, he’s not deaf.”
“Got it. So, Betty, if the new kid is soundin’ rude, you gotta say the word ‘tone,’ but you don’t gotta yell it ’cause he can hear.”
Tanner removes the doorknob from my front door and sets it on the floor.
“You hear that, Miriam?” Mrs. Carver calls over her shoulder to the rest of the Scuttlebutts, who are shuffling up my walkway.
“Why are you all here?” I ask, giving up on the doorknob, since Tanner is already attaching a new one.
“We got word from Dr. Diggle that Thane was being released at two o’clock, so we’re having a quick meeting before he gets here. Didn’t you see the group message on WhatsApp?”
No, no I did not. I have that damn thing silenced. There are over six hundred messages every single day, and I can’t keep up with that.
“Right.” I drag out the word, praying for patience. “I must have missed it. If he’s coming home, he’ll need to rest though. Do you think today is the best day for…this?”
