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With a grin, Maria deposited herself on the wicker chair. “At least I can say I’ve seen a celebrity in the flesh now.”
My cell chimed.
Garrett: Visitors?
Me: A highly curious friend. She’s calming down now. My apologies.
“Ruh-roh,” I said. “You got me into trouble with him.”
Maria winced. “Sorry. Tell him I really like his band. The early stuff, mostly. The move away from acoustic into more of a hard rock sensibility kind of lost me, in all honesty.”
“I will definitely get right on that.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if you two got together?” asked Maria, all enthused.
I snorted. “Romance? In this economy?”
Maria laughed.
“What’s going on with you?” asked Cézanne. “You’re very excitable today. Not that it’s a bad thing.”
“I have news,” confessed Maria, sitting up straight. “I applied for a job in San Francisco. And I just heard back this morning—I got it!”
“You’re leaving?” I asked with a frown.
“That’s great.” Cézanne clapped her hands. “Congratulations!”
Maria beamed.
I gave her my best fake smile. “Wow. That’s wonderful.”
“I know I was resistant to the idea of her dating. But now that Mama’s got Claude, I don’t have to worry about her being on her own so much. It freed us up to make the move. It’s a promotion for me and a pathway to better money for Danielle,” she said. “And we’ll be close to her family for a change, which will be nice.”
Cézanne smiled. “We’ll sure miss you on trivia nights.”
“I’m only a phone call away if you don’t know the answer to a question. Which is totally against the rules.” Maria laughed. “Can you imagine? Heather would lose her mind.”
“We’re really going to miss you,” I said. “But if it’s what you and Danielle want, then I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. I’m going to miss you guys too.”
Security checks were an important part of my nighttime routine. Given the size of the cabin, it was impressive how long I could drag out the ritual.
I started at the tiny window in the bathroom that no one could even fit through before moving on to the larger ones in my bedroom. I’d installed key-operated locks to complement the latches. Next came the window on the side of the main room that looked out onto my neighbor’s property, and the ones with a view onto the front porch. Then came the front and back doors with their various deadbolts and safety chains, and so on. Often I’d repeat this process two or three times. Just to be sure.
The only light outside was the one glowing in the distance—Garrett’s parlor. I wasn’t the lone person in town awake at one in the morning. And I had to be up in five hours. No wonder the dark smudges under my eyes were so damn big. I’d already done a sheet facial and some random reading on Wikipedia to increase my trivia knowledge. Then I’d started The Girl with Stars in Her Eyes by Xio Axelrod. Anytime was a good time to read a romance. And rock stars were a current area of interest for me.
Which was when a shadow filled the parlor window in the house next door.
Damn. I’d been busted. But then again, so had he.
Garrett: Lurking?
Me: More like skulking.
Garrett: Can’t sleep?
Me: No.
The little dots bounced on screen to show he was typing something. But nothing appeared. Then the shadow moved away from the window. So as not to look like a psychopath, I headed back into my bedroom, turning off lights as I went. My body and brain were weary and my bones ached, I was so damn tired. Yet that same stupid wired tension ran through me. Sleep had to happen sooner or later. Surely.
In the darkness, the cabin was quiet, the night still. Not that it helped. Being alone was both a choice and a chore. But the knowledge that he was right there next door was actually kind of nice. To not feel so isolated out here on the edge of town. My cell buzzed on the bedside table.
Garrett: I’ll be up for a while if you want to talk.
Me: Thanks.
Me: Was your day ok?
Garrett: Yeah. Yours?
Me: Good.
Garrett: You seeing someone about your sleep?
Garrett: Shit. I said no personal questions. Forget it.
Me: It’s fine. Going to try lying down again. Night.
It was a little alarming how life started to revolve around the rock star. Not because I couldn’t stop thinking about him (though he did have a tendency to live in my head rent free), but due to the residents of Wildwood becoming increasingly obsessed. Which was how I came to be knocking on his door Friday afternoon. Six days after our early-morning texting and a whole week and a half after our impromptu meal at the bar. During which time there’d been no mention of the second not-date. I may or may not have been ghosted by Garrett. Whatever. He was free to do as he pleased and I had my own life to live.
