AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Think of it as me doing you a favor. I helped you get the most awkward part of your visit over with right away. Now you can enjoy your break . . . and your neighbor.”
“Your sense of humor keeps improving.” I turn as if a place to sit will magically appear. I lean against the faux gray marble countertop instead. “If it wasn’t for all the times I’ve had you check on my mom and the farm for me, I wouldn’t have let you convince me to stay here. I’d be at the local B&B right now—with heat, furniture, and a fruit basket in my room—instead of hoping Brie doesn’t murder me in my sleep.”
“Brie couldn’t murder a fly. She’s too nice and you know it. And old Marge at the B&B never leaves fruit baskets. I hear her last guest had bedbug bites. The unfurnished duplex is prime real estate in comparison. It has a camping appeal that you’ve complained many times about missing.”
“Camping appeal? Is that what this is?”
“I’m as surprised as you are that Brie didn’t offer you her couch.”
“That’s low, Travis.”
“I’m joking. Trust me when I say, simple country life has a lot to offer. You’ll thank me someday. Listening to your best friend Trav is the way to go.”
I clench my teeth, filtering my words into the nicest retort I can manage. “Said best friend set me up in the place with my ex-girlfriend. My trust for you is frozen somewhere on the front steps, and I think I stepped on it for good measure when I came in.”
“Ouch.”
“You deserve worse.” My phone beeps, letting me know my battery is low. I charged it for a few minutes in my car, but it’s not enough to last long. “I’ve got to go; my phone is going to die.”
Trav sighs. “Fine. Let me worry about getting coal for Christmas, and you focus on enjoying yourself. You work harder than anyone I know and deserve it. Start with asking out your neighbor.”
I hold back a moan. I know Trav really is a good guy. Who else would keep tabs on me all these years and force me back here? “I’ll make an effort, but no dating. It wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It’s a start,” Trav says. “Call me later after you go through your email.”
I say bye and hit end on the call. Mindlessly, I scroll to Morgan’s contact. My sister doesn’t care if I’m back in Bearwood. She’s too busy trying to keep her third marriage together. Relationships aren’t her strong suit. It’s a family trait. We used to have a lot of fun together as kids though, and I miss her. Being back here only enhances the feeling, and I wished we talked more. Our family has been low on her priority list since . . . well, since she learned about Mom and Dad. I wish I would’ve clued in sooner instead of finding out on graduation night. I remember throwing up when I heard about Dad’sotherfamily. Either way, we were both messed up by the end.
I slide my phone across the laminate counter. The utility guys save me from boredom a few minutes later when they knock on my door. They’re early, and I’m not mad at all. It only takes a minute to get the gas turned on. The electricity and water should turn on at any moment.
When they leave, I pick up my phone again. I’m back to staring at the black screen, wondering how to entertain myself. I can’t work here because there isn’t internet, and the library is full of my mom’s book club friends who would report my presence here faster than they can pick out a book. There is no fancy coffee shop with Wi-Fi or even a McDonalds with Wi-Fi in this backward town. I rub my hands together, the heat not kicking on fast enough. I’m cold, bored, and hungry. Since I’m not up for more lectures from Travis, and I’m not ready to face Mom and the farm, there’s only one thing to do: Go help Brie make dinner. One night won’t blur any of my lines. I’ve spent seven years securing them.
Maybe if I help cook, there won’t be any debt to repay for borrowing her stuff—stuff smelling overwhelmingly like Brie. I think I even drooled on my pillow. But that was tired, weak Rockwell. Wide awake Rockwell is on his A game. Chipping in to help with dinner means it isn’t a date. It’s two neighbors who have to eat.
I knock on Brie’s door a minute later. It’s a quarter after four, and she isn’t expecting me for at least another hour. I said I was wide awake, not smooth.
I dig the toe of my shoe into her frozen doormat, but still when Brie pulls back the door. Instead of acting irritated like any normal person, she gives me an amused smile. “Couldn’t wait?”
Does she really not hate me? Or is this an act?
Brie is wearing a gingerbread apron, and I point at it. “I thought I would offer to help in the kitchen.” I sound lame. Iamlame. “Since I have time.” And I broke the lame meter.
“Sure, I could use a hand.” She invites me in and leads me to the kitchen. I shiver as my body adjusts to the warm room. I didn’t realize how cold I am.
“So do you cook now?” she asks.
I stare at her. “Yeah, I cook.”
“Besides using the microwave?”
I cough. “You got me.”
She opens a drawer and pulls out another apron and tosses it to me. It’s pink and the bottom looks like a frilly skirt. I stare at it.
“It’ll keep you from getting sauce on your clothes. We’re making lasagna.”
I love lasagna. I’ve only had the store-bought kind for the last several years, and my mouth waters thinking about something home-cooked. I shed my coat and put on the apron—not sure if I am confident enough to wear it. Since I’m motivated by the food, I go ahead and tie it.
She turns and laughs silently into her hand.
