Oh, Im fine, Mrs. Fenmore, I lied. Im just getting my stuff out to my car. How are you this morning? I asked, anxious to shift her focus.
Her wrinkled face sharpened as she assessed me over the tops of her horn-rimmed glasses. I could see all the wheels turning in her head as we stood there, silently facing each other in the hall. She may have given the appearance of being absent-minded and often flighty, but I knew well enough that she was sharper than a tack. She just knew how to use age to her advantage. I had a feeling that she knew more about every tenant in the building than they realized, simply because she was so good at unobtrusive observation. That, and the fact that people seemed to just off-handedly spill their guts whenever they were around her.
Which was precisely what I was determined not to do right now.
She smiled sadly at me and took a small step forward, getting close enough to rest a gnarled, vein-mapped hand on my arm.
Were going to miss you, my dear girl, she said softly, her watery blue eyes seeming to bore directly to my soul.
I took a long, deep breath, fighting off the tears that seemed inevitable. I managed a wobbly smile and nodded, fearful that opening my mouth to respond would open the floodgates; and then Id never be able to leave.
Let me know if you need anything, Zoë. I know of a few able-bodied young men whod gladly help you move your things. She squeezed my arm with another small smile, then turned to go.
Mrs. Fenmore, I said, wanting to catch her before she walked away. Thank you. For everything. I had to stop there, but I knew that it was enough. She dipped her head in kind of a half-nod, the corners of her thin lips curving up ever-so slightly.
I watched her retreating figure, wondering just how much she knew. Wondering just how much those watery blue eyes had seen, and thinking that maybe she had once been where I was standing.
There it was.
My new life, twenty minutes and fifteen miles away from my old one. Yes, I could have moved to another state, another country, even. But this was far enough. Even such a short distance was a huge step for methe thing that mattered most here was the simple fact that there was nothing, no reminders of my life with Paul, here.
The house was one story with a brick and wood siding façade, sitting on a postage stamp yard. There was no garage, just a carport and a small area near the front door that had aspirations of being considered a porch. I was guessing that the house was at least thirty years old, but it looked as though it was wearing those years well. The yard was well-kept, and nothing appeared run-down or cluttered.
There was a truck parked up under the shade of the carport, a late model Ford Ranger. The charcoal body of the truck looked newly washed and meticulously polished, a telling sign that its owner took pride in its appearanceeven if he was going to be too far away to enjoy it.
I sat in my car, idling in the driveway as I tried to process what I was staring at and how it now related to me. This was going to be home. For the next nine months of my life, this was where I was going to start and end my days.
I sucked in a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly.
I was really going to do this.
I took another deep breath, hoping that maybe I would feel a little more resolute. Not that having a car jammed with boxes and suitcases of my belongings wasnt resolute enough. I was just scared.
I took another deep breath, hoping that maybe I would feel a little more resolute. Not that having a car jammed with boxes and suitcases of my belongings wasnt resolute enough. I was just scared.
Scared stupid, if I was going to be brutally honest.
Here we go, I thought, gritting my teeth as I cut the engine and opened my door. I stepped out onto the worn concrete of the driveway and unfolded myself from the car. I took a minute to look around at the houses around me, trying to redirect the nervousness I was feeling. Putting off going into the house just a little bit longer.
It was a nice enough neighborhood. Small, nothing spectacular, but it looked safe. There were a couple kids zipping up and down the street on bicycles, hollering indecipherable things at each other. A woman across the street was busily pulling up the weeds in the flower bed that bordered the front of her house, and somewhere nearby someone was mowing their lawn.
I stood there listening to the sounds of Saturday, the sounds of normalcy, feeling the warm sun on my face as I waited forwhat? Why was I waiting? I shook my head at my own idiocy and shut the car door.
When I reached the front door of the house, I pulled the key from my pocket and held it in my hand for a minute, just standing there and contemplating the door. It was brown; a deep chocolate color that made a nice contrast to the sand-colored wooden siding fronting the house. This was a guy door, I thought with a small smile. To go with a decidedly guy house, I added mentally, noting a beaten-up toolbox shoved into a corner of the front porch.
I slid the key into the lock and twisted the knob. It took some jiggling and a hard shove against the door with my shoulder to get it open, and then I found myself standing in a small living room. A large window to my right let in the only bit of light. White mini blinds, closed against the curious eyes of the neighborhood, gave the room a soft, hazy feel. I looked around without turning on any lights, wanting to get to know the room a little bit before I exposed it to the harsh realities of a light bulb.
Time to start the tour.
An hour later, Id determined through various clues that the guy was far from a germaphobe, but still clean enough that I didnt feel as though I had to attack every room in the house wearing a hazmat suit. He was a runnerand quite good at it, if the collection of various medals and awards were anything to go by. And, aside from an assortment of empty missile shells, the man was definitely not prone to tchotchkes.
I started making a mental list of things I wanted to do to make myself feel more at home in these new surroundings. Vacuum, clean the bathroom, dustand Im going to have to stock the fridge, of course, I thought as I moved down the hall to the kitchen.
It was modest and serviceable, much like the rest of the house. There was a refrigerator, stove, dishwasher, and microwave that all looked like they might possibly be pushing the twenty-year mark, all in a strange shade that I was assuming used to be almond.
At least it wasnt avocado, I thought with a small smile.
I turned my full attention to the fridge, which was humming a little louder than I was used to hearing. I raised an eyebrow. The last thing I needed right now was an appliance malfunction.
There were a few photos posted randomly across the front, babies and a couple of little kids, each of which I turned over to inspect for identification. Apparently, Neil was the proud uncle of five very cute children.
I wondered how many siblings he had.
Not that I should really care, I thought. I probably was never even going to meet this guy. As Ray had explained it, his deployment had begun a bit earlier than expected, which meant hed left before our arranged introduction.
I opened the door to the refrigerator and cautiously peeked inside, lest something jump out at me. A lone bottle of ketchup wobbled inside the door. At least there was one thing I could knock off my grocery list, right?
Oh, make that two things, I thought as I opened the freezer door to find a bottle of vodka.
Was there a drink you can make with ketchup and vodka?
I almost laughed out loud at the thought.
Maybe some sort of Bloody Mary-type concoction, if he had some Tabasco sauce in one of the cabinets.
Kate, in her encyclopedic knowledge of all things mixed, would know. I would have to have her come over later to help me get settled. Or at least to help diffuse some of the strangeness. Maybe she could stay with me for this first night here, I thought.
My cell phone began to ring, and I pulled it quickly from my back pocket, hoping it was her.
Are you there yet?
She hadnt even waited for me to say hello before launching into her excited inquiry. I rolled my eyes, smiling at her complete lack of ceremony.
Yup, Im here. I havent gotten anything into the house yet, Im sort of just doing a walk-through to get a little more acquainted with the place. I trailed off as I moved my focus to the cabinets over the counters, opening them one by one. So far nothing strange.
That bad, huh? I could picture Kate on the other end of the phone, her nose wrinkled in distaste. She was probably already thinking the place must be vile.
No, no, not at all. Its, I paused as I searched for an appropriate word, cozy? Kind of small, a little dated, and you can definitely tell a guy lives here. My eyes fell on a very ample supply of beans and canned tuna. But its still nice. Its going to need a cleaning job, but nothing major.
There was a silence on the other end, and I knew she must be trying to decode my words. I raised an eyebrow.
Really. You can come over later and see for yourself, Kate.
Oh, Im definitely coming over later. Rays coming with me, if thats okay. I think he wants to make sure you feel settled, and he promised Neil hed check in on things periodically, anyway. Well bring dinner, okay?
Great. I would have a little time to get my stuff in and at least a few things cleaned to my satisfaction.
Sounds fine to me, I replied, opening another cabinet to find stacked boxes of Gu energy gel. Mocha, berry, and chocolate flavored.
Mmmm.
Could you do me a favor and bring something to drink when you come? I asked. Otherwise, the options will be limited to water, vodka, and Gu. Or maybe a combo of all three?
She laughed. Done. However interesting that might taste, I dont think any of us would really want to try that one. Im thinking more along the lines of wine, beer, and maybe some soda.
I knit my eyebrows together. How long are you planning on staying, a month?
No. But Ill stay as long as you need me to, she replied.