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Your Reasonable Neighbors
I reach the signature and look up at Henry, stunned into silence. He’s grinning at me in the most un-Henry-like way.
“They all signed it. Every one of them. They love the idea of benefiting the church food pantry. Even Connie and Walt signed it. I started with them. Look.”
He points to the first two names on the list. Beside Connie’s name, there’s a note in elegant script.We love your windows at Handy’s.
“This was your idea?”
He nods, his face still excited but now with a touch of shyness. “I hope it’s okay. I’ll understand if you still want them on all the time. I’ll figure out how to explain it to everyone. But—”
“This is perfect,” I tell him. “I can’t believe you did this.”For me. I can’t believe you did this forme.Mixed with the gratitude is a small sliver of guilt because once again, someone else has to come in and fix things for me.
But it has, without question, solved a major headache, and I can go to Evie with a Christmas light proposal that she’ll be thrilled to get behind.
“I kind of assumed you’d be able to make the adjustments so that there are fewer lights during the week. I hope I didn’t overpromise.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s an easy fix.”
He looks relieved. “I’m glad you’re okay with all of this.”
I slip my arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. “More than okay. Thanks, Henry.”
Like yesterday, his hands settle into exactly the right spots on my back, like they were perfectly sized and placed to fit just so.
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs into my hair.
We probably have at least three neighbors watching us hug it out on the porch. I can’t even begin to guess what they think is happening, but I don’t care. I’ll stay here forev—
“Mama? I’m done,” Evie calls through the open door of the hallway bathroom.
I step back from Henry. “I don’t know how to repay you for this, but I think I know where to start. How about once I get Evie down for bed, I’ll text you and you can come over?” I realize too late that it might sound like a hookup invitation, so I trip over my words trying to clarify. “For nothing bad. Or naughty, I mean.” Oof, no, “naughty” issomuch worse, I realize when he pulls back enough to look down at me with a hint of confusion. “I have an idea for Project: Makeover, that’s all. I’ll tell you about it when Evie’s asleep.”
He releases me and steps back, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Sure, the project. Sounds like a plan.”
“Okay, I’ll text you,” I repeat.
He’s already retreating down my steps, and who can blame him? I just asked him to come over for something naughty.
I shake my head and go to Evie, helping her dry off and get dressed in warm pajamas. After two stories and a couple of Christmas songs, she nods off, and I tuck in her blanket and turn out the light before heading to my own bedroom to change. I’m always seeing Henry at my worst. Work clothes I’ve worn all day. Mismatched pajamas.
It’s not like I’m going to dress up at 8:00 PM to stay in my house, but I do switch into yoga pants and a soft red cotton sweater. I’ve decided I can’t turn on the heat until it’s down to sixty degrees inside, and we’re hovering a bit above that, so I pull on thick wool socks and pad out to the sofa to nestle under a blanket and text Henry that Evie’s asleep.
He sends back a thumbs up. It’s the first emoji he’s used. Henry doesn’t seem like an emoji guy.
A few minutes later, he knocks softly at the door.
I open it and flip off the Christmas lights as he comes in. “In the spirit of neighborliness,” I explain to his questioning glance. I wave him to the sofa, and he sits, not exactly comfortably, but not like he’s perched to run, either.
“You mentioned an idea?”
I sit on the other side of the sofa. “How’s it going with Leigh?”
He gives me a long look before he rubs a hand across his jaw. I can hear the rasp from five feet away, and it’s doing something for me.
“It’s going,” he says. “Your tips worked.”
“Tell me.”Don’t tell me. My tips were stupid. I should have never given them to you.
