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When I walked him to the door and he turned to say goodbye, I could have sworn he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, the back of his hand grazed over my cheek, and he said, “Sweet dreams, Frankie. See you soon.” Then he was gone.
I puttered around for the next couple of hours, putting away this and that, then made my way to bed. I’ve been tossing and turning ever since. Enough. This is very unproductive. I grab my wrap and go back downstairs to continue unpacking. There’s a stack of boxes Hammer broke down earlier in the corner.
I move across the room to my new solarium, taking my fuzzy blue throw with me. My view is the compound across the way. The lights are on, and I wonder if Hammer is still up.
I rest my head on the back of the chair and close my eyes. I’ve had plenty of sleepless nights. Through the years, I’ve become more accustomed to running on little to no sleep for long periods of time. I’ve suffered from insomnia since Mom took ill. I worried all the time about her, and even when she was gone, my mind never stopped moving. I can’t seem to shut out the noise in my head.
Then came the mess with Jessop. I’m still reeling over the effects of that fiasco. That man took all that Grandad Ian had built and was going to tear it apart with his bullshit. He filed a bogus lawsuit to boot. Thank God, all his conniving caught up to him and he was exposed for the lowlife that he is.
Now I’ve gone down the rabbit hole, thought after thought. It’s going to be another sleepless night.
* * *
What is that loud knocking? The doorbell rings…and rings. I unfold my body from the armchair where I fell asleep at some point in the early hours of the morning. My head is foggy, but I have to get to the door before that incessant ringing makes my headache worse than it already is. That’s part of the problem with insomnia; it’s followed with a headache due to lack of sleep.
As I near the door, I hear someone saying, “Her car is in the driveway. She must be home.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want company,” says another woman.
“That’s crazy. Sofia says she’s a sweetheart, and she’s an excellent judge of character,” the first woman responds.
“She could be in the shower. We can leave this on her doorstep with a note,” a new voice pipes up.
“It’s food, Hanna. The animals will get to it before she sees it,” another comments.
I peer out the window to see several women standing on my porch. I tie the sash of my wrap tighter and run a hair over my tousled hair before opening the door.
“Good morning.” I greet the gaggle of women standing before me, each one loaded with bags and lovely, wrapped packages.
“Hello, we’re your neighbors, and we wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Ava. This is Vi, Hanna, Maddie, and Willow,” Ava says proudly. “Fair warning, I expect that Izzy, Abby, and Charlotte will be over later to meet you. Quinn is working on a big project, but I suspect you’ll meet her soon too.”
“I’m so happy to meet you. I’m sorry I’m not dressed for company. I had a restless night,” I say apologetically.
“We can just leave these with you—” Ava begins.
“Oh no, please come in.” I open the door wider. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment. Please make yourselves at home.” I start for the master bedroom, then turn back. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee first.”
“We can do that for you,” Vi offers. “And you’re in for a treat. Our amazing Hanna has brought a selection of pastries.”
Making me coffee and bringing sweet treats for breakfast? I like these ladies already. “That would be splendid,” I reply with a bright smile.
I get ready quickly, jumping into the shower, then finding a pair of lightweight, baby-blue capri pants and a pale-yellow, button-down, sleeveless blouse. It would take forever to dry and style my hair, so I decide to pull it into a tight ballerina bun. Unfortunately, I’ve been conditioned to make sure that I’m presentable to guests, and, other than the few faux pas, including a few minutes ago when I opened the door in my robe, I always dress for guests.
Although I don’t wear very much makeup, I put on my mascara, blush, and lipstick. I feel more myself and ready to face the day.
I couldn’t have been out of the room for more than twenty minutes, but in that time, several more ladies have joined the initial group. Leaning against my counter is Hammer. He’s every bit as hot as he was last night. His eyes come right to me, and he shows off his swoonworthy dimples.
“Hey, Frankie.” His voice is a low rumble that I feel down to my bones. I’ve never been a fan of being given pet names, but when Hammer does it, I like it. “This is my sister, Isabelle. We call her Izzy.” He’s introducing me to his sister. I know he adores his little sister; he told me so last night.
“It’s a pleasure, Izzy.” I reach out to shake her hand, and instead, she pulls me in for a massive hug. “It’s wonderful to meet you. And that accent is divine,” she gushes.
I have no choice but to hug her back. “I like your accent too,” I tease. Izzy’s smile is a lot like her brother’s.
“Coffee’s ready,” Hanna calls out. “I hope you don’t mind, Hammer directed us to your cups and we’ve set out the platters with the breakfast scones and such.”
“How can I possibly mind when wonderful people come to visit to bring me friendship and food? This is all very kind of you,” I tell them. I glance around the room at the women and see something I haven’t in a very long time. Sincerity. Genuine sincerity and kindness. A lump forms in my throat. I choke it back and force a grin. “Thank you,” I say quietly.
“There’s more!” the one they called Maddie says. “We brought you housewarming gifts.”
