The New Normal

by Brogan, Tracy

  “I’m sorry I didn’t help you with your dog. Is he okay? He didn’t choke or anything, did he?” His apology was an eight.

  She shook her head, and the messy bun went flip, flop, flip. “No, he’s fine. I’m really working with him on the electric fence. I promise I’ll get him trained.”

  “I’m sure you will. It’s fine.” And in that moment, he meant it.

  She took another sip. Gave up another little sigh. “I’ll replace your grill if you just tell me how much that will be.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “That grill was worth less than the steak, so don’t worry about it. We’re good.” He meant that, too.

  Her relief was palpable, and she smiled up at him so suddenly it caused a tiny hitch in his breath. For what reason he could not identify. Blame it on the alcohol.

  “Are you sure? My dog did break it,” she said.

  “I’m sure. Just . . . try to keep him in your own yard from now on.”

  “I will. I promise.” After an awkward pause and another sip of wine, she added, “I think your son was in calculus with my daughter last year.”

  “Oh, really? What’s her name?”

  “Mia Lancaster. She’s pretty quiet, though. He might not have noticed her.”

  “Does she look like you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m sure he noticed her.” Ethan noticed every pretty girl. And pretty much every less-than-pretty girl, too. The raging teenage hormones gave him radarlike focus, but at Carli’s sideways glance, Ben realized how flirtatious that had sounded. And he had no business flirting with his new neighbor. Because in spite of what those women thought, he wasn’t on the market. Not yet, and now she was going to think he was an asshole again. Or even worse, she’d think he was deliberately flirting, and he did not need that kind of complication in his life.

  It was time to leave. His brain was tired and his words were getting clumsy, and since he’d achieved his goal of being nice and overtly friendly to every single person here, including this woman who’d insulted him, it was time to call it a night before he gave in to the urge to flirt with her for real. Because she was cute, and he was worse for wear thanks to all the beers pressed into his hands.

  “I think it’s time for me to head home,” he said. “See you around.”

  “G’night,” he heard her say quietly as he stepped away, and for the first time in a long time, he wondered if there just might be life after divorce.

  Chapter 6

  Just as she had every year on the first day of school, Carli made her kids smiley-face pancakes with whipped cream hair and chocolate chip eyes and a red maraschino cherry nose. Of course, they were far too old for that kind of thing now, but it was tradition, and since it was a tradition they could do without Steve, she wanted to stick with it. The fall and winter holidays would be awkward this year, their first ones celebrating as a family divided, but the start of the school year was something she could keep just the same. The continuity was comforting, and yet she found herself blinking back nostalgic tears. Mia would be off at college next year, and everything would be different. Soon, Tess would be gone, too, but she couldn’t think about that just now. It was too overwhelming.

  So today she’d have chocolate chip pancakes with her two best girls, and they’d make predictions about the upcoming school year. Then they’d make a fuss while she insisted on taking their pictures before they left the house. Just as they did every year.

  “Oh, Mom,” Tess said as she peeled around the corner at a full run, “I’m so sorry. I don’t have time to eat. Becca is picking me up in like two seconds.”

  Carli’s heart fell to the floor. “Becca? You’re not riding with Mia?”

  Tess shook her head, sending golden-blonde waves over her shoulders. She was wearing jean shorts and a Glenville High School T-shirt with pink high-top tennis shoes. If not for the curves and the mascara, she could’ve passed for an eighth grader. “Nope, I thought I told you. Becca got a new car for her birthday, and she offered to drive me. Those pancakes are so funny, though. You are too cute, Mom.” She rushed over and kissed Carli’s cheek before giving an equally loving kiss to Gus, who was prancing next to the door in the hopes that, wherever Tess was going, he could go, too. And then she was gone.

  Carli stood motionless in the kitchen, staring at the space her daughter had just vacated. Did she not remember the tradition?

  Mia came down just a moment later, dressed in head-to-toe black. Cropped black leggings, a black T-shirt, black flip-flops, even a black scrunchie holding her dark hair up into a high ponytail. She was heading either to school or to a bank heist. She was staring at her phone as she entered the kitchen.

  “Good morning, honey,” Carli said brightly. Too brightly.

  Mia looked up and glanced at her before her eyes traveled to the pancakes. “Thanks for breakfast, Mom, but I can’t eat that. Full of eggs and dairy and probably sugar and carbs. I’ll just grab a vegan protein bar at school.”

  Tears sprang to Carli’s eyes, and she turned away to hide them, embarrassed at her own heightened emotions. They were just pancakes. Nothing to cry about. Except it wasn’t the pancakes. It was the tradition. It was the moment of connection with her daughters before they parted ways. And this was a big day! The first day of Mia’s senior year, but she was acting as if it were just any old morning on any old day. Carli blinked back the stupid tears. All this time she’d thought she was doing it for them, to give them a sense of comfort and security before facing the hard, cold world, but in that moment, she realized she was really doing it for herself. She was the one who needed the connection. Especially now, when so many aspects of their lives were changing, but her daughters were perfectly ready to leave the nest. It hurt far more than it should.

  “Can I pack you a lunch?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, but Mia was already back to staring at her phone.

  “What? Oh, um, no, thanks. Some of the parents bring in lunch for the seniors on the first day and make a whole big deal about it. It’s kind of stupid.”

  “Parents? What parents?” How had she not known about this? This was right up her alley. And it wasn’t stupid. It was kind and thoughtful and generous. Those were very nice parents!

  Mia shrugged and tucked her phone into the pocket of her (naturally) black backpack. “I don’t know. Just some group of parents. They do stuff every month for the seniors. You can ask Mrs. Tully about it. She always seems to be around.”

  Elizabeth Tully was a PTO mom on steroids, running every fundraiser, every special event, baking cookies and taking names. She’d scolded Carli once for bringing in store-bought brownies for Mia’s birthday during the second grade, and ever since then, any time Carli volunteered to help at a school party, Elizabeth put her in charge of paper products. Everyone knew that if you got assigned to paper products it was because you couldn’t cut it as a properly vetted homemaker.

  “Okay, well . . . can I take your picture? Tess ran out of here before I got a chance to get one of the both of you.”

  Mia posed, but her strained smile was so insincere it was practically a mug shot. Carli made her pose for another. A slight improvement. It looked like a passport photo, but it was clear that was the best she was going to get. She gave her a hug, and although Mia hugged her back, Carli could already feel her pulling away.

  “I gotta run, Mom. Thanks for breakfast. Sorry I can’t eat it.”

  “That’s okay. I love you. Have a wonderful first day of senior year.”

  Mia smiled back. “Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.”

  And with that, her other daughter was gone, and Carli was all alone. Except for Gus, who was now prancing at the door in earnest. He needed his walk, and she needed to shake away the sudden melancholy taking over her morning. But first, more coffee.

  She poured herself a second cup and sat down on the floral sofa on her sunporch, her favorite room of the house, where she could look out over the trees of her backyard. She’d let her
self mope for as long as the coffee lasted, and then she had to be done. That was a trick she’d learned over the years, especially right after Steve had moved out. Sometimes she’d even set a timer and let herself sink into her sadness, but when the timer went off, she had to stop wallowing. Otherwise she’d waste the whole day, and there was simply no time for that.

  Gus joined her on the couch, realizing his walk would have to wait. He slowly eased his way up, one clumsy paw at a time, so she wouldn’t notice his mammoth presence. She scratched him behind his big, floppy ears, and he let out a soft woof as he heard neighborhood kids walking past the house. Then she heard the brief honk-honk of the school bus as it left the stop, and she sighed. That was the sound of time marching on, and Carli realized in that moment, if she didn’t make some changes, she was going to spend the rest of her life with nothing interesting to do. Her kids were growing up, and Erin was right. Carli needed a better job. A bigger job. Something challenging and rewarding. Something new and exciting. Something to keep her mind occupied on stuff other than the tick-tock of the proverbial clock and wondering who would win the latest season of Survivor. The position for cohost of the new morning show at Channel 7 was still up for grabs, so maybe, just maybe, she should give that a try. She glanced at her watch.

  All the other neighborhood moms would be gathering at Renee’s house for mimosas—or as Renee called them, mom-osas—to celebrate the kids being back in school, but Carli wasn’t up for it today. She had errands to run and plans to make, and Mrs. Stern was coming later. If Gus was going to get any kind of exercise, she’d have to take him now. She downed the last of her coffee and pushed him to the side so she could stand up. It was time to move.

  “How about a nice long walk, Gus?”

  He perked up at the question, and she knew some fresh air would do them both good. Exercise always made her happier. Maybe not while she was doing it, but she certainly felt good when it was over! She glanced down at the old Wonder Woman T-shirt she was wearing. It had outlasted her marriage and showed about as much wear and tear as she did, but everyone would be at Renee’s and she’d be back home before any of them were done sipping their morning cocktails. No one would even see her.

  Chapter 7

  Ben was sitting amid the rubble of his kitchen, his laptop open on the table while he prepped for a phone meeting scheduled later that morning, when he spotted Carli From Next Door walking her hellhound past his house. The dog was pulling, but she seemed to be holding her own, and that said something, because if Gus decided to drag her all the way to Florida, he probably could. Ben observed through the window as they went down the street toward the cul-de-sac, reluctantly acknowledging she looked cute again in shorts and a faded red shirt. She had on a baseball hat with her ponytail swinging out the back, looking more like a teenager herself rather than the mom of two.

  A memory of their brief conversation Saturday night brought a smile to his face, and he decided not to question his reaction. There was nothing wrong with smiling at a recollection. No harm in it. Besides, their talk had been humorous. She’d seemed so reluctant to apologize for calling him an asshole, which maybe should bother him, but it didn’t. He’d been called all sorts of names over the years. He had three brothers and a sister, after all, not to mention the fact that he owned a company with two hundred employees and had a board of directors to answer to. He’d had names thrown at him by all sorts of people, because not everyone liked his decisions. You couldn’t please everyone all the time and still expect to be a successful businessman. No, none of that bothered him.

  What had bothered him in the wee hours of the morning, however, was the fact that sleep had been so elusive last night. And the night before, thanks to a vision of Carli and her pink top that kept tapping at his brain. Yep, that was annoying as hell at 2:00 a.m., but now it was daytime, and Ben wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t naive. He’d worked with women all his life. He knew that the attraction he felt for her was primal, but that didn’t mean he’d act on it. It was biology, not destiny. And exploring it would certainly lead to a dead-end road. One ending at the edge of a steep, rocky cliff. Sure, she was single, and he was virtually single—except for the formalities, anyway—but everything about the situation pointed to this attraction being nothing but an inconvenience and an inconceivably bad idea. She was his neighbor, and the proximity wasn’t a bonus—it was a deal breaker. And besides, even if he did try to pursue something with her, she’d probably shut him down. She clearly had no issue with calling him names.

  Thirty minutes later, after he’d successfully pushed thoughts of Carli from his mind, he saw her again, only this time she marched right past his front window and then dropped from view. Dropped, as if she’d sunk down to the ground. He got up from the kitchen table to get a closer look, and there she was . . . on her hands and knees nosing around in his hydrangeas.

  Why the hell was Carli From Next Door rooting around in his shrubbery? Was she . . . weeding? He didn’t see her pulling anything up. After he watched for another full minute, curiosity got the better of him. He opened his front door and stepped out onto the brick-lined porch and leaned forward around the post just far enough to see her more clearly. And yes, there she was on her hands and knees, running her hands over the ground in his landscaped beds.

  He stepped into full view, and when she failed to acknowledge him, he cleared his throat. “Um . . . What are you doing?”

  Carli sat back on her heels with an excessively demonstrative sigh and frowned up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. “I’m looking for my house key.”

  He leaned against the porch post. “You think you lost your keys in my flower beds?”

  “Not lost. Hid. When the Mortons lived here, I kept a spare house key inside one of those decoy rocks in case I ever locked myself out, and now I can’t find it.”

  “Why wouldn’t you just keep that decoy rock on your own property?”

  She shrugged, tossing up her hands impatiently. “I don’t know. I just didn’t because the Mortons and I swapped rocks a long time ago, and when they moved, I forgot to say anything about it. I have a key to your place, by the way. I’ll give that back to you.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” He didn’t think she’d take advantage of having his house key, but then again, she wasn’t currently coming across as the most stable of neighbors. Best for him to keep track of his own keys.

  “Have you seen any decoy rocks around your front door? I don’t think the Mortons would’ve thought to move it when they sold you the house.”

  Ben had a phone conference about to start, and yet it seemed that once again, Carli From Next Door had a personal dilemma that somehow required his participation. No wonder the Mortons had moved away. She was a nuisance—even if she was cute.

  “What did the rock look like?” he asked. The question seemed legit, but her frown increased and her tone grew more exasperated.

  “It looked like a rock. With a key inside.”

  Really? She was going to get indignant with him when she was the one crawling around in his bushes? This was an important call he had scheduled with one of his clients, and yet he knew if he went inside without helping her look, she’d be back to thinking he was a jerk.

  “Well, I haven’t seen anything like that, but then again, I haven’t looked. It never occurred to me that someone else would be hiding stuff on my property.” He thought his tone was pretty neutral, but her frown increased, and she squinted at him for a split second before letting out another long sigh.

  “Awesome,” she said.

  Clearly not awesome.

  “Don’t you have a spare?”

  “That was my spare. Actually, it was the spare to my spare, because I keep one in the garage, and I keep one in the glove compartment of my car, but I can’t get inside the garage because that door is broken, which is why I’m locked out in the first place. I normally use the service door, but since I can’t get into my garage, I can’t get to the door that’s unlocked. I
can only get to the front door of my house. Which is locked.”

  Confusion swirled as Ben lost the trail of her story right around the time she said spare to my spare. And while this sounded very much like a Carli problem and not a Ben problem, he wasn’t about to walk back inside his house like he had last time.

  “Did you leave any windows open?”

  “Only the one to my bedroom, which is way up there.” She pointed off toward her house, but he already knew which window was her bedroom window, because she’d walked around in a nightgown last evening and apparently thought the flimsy little curtains she had were sufficient. That corner of her house was shielded from the street and all the other neighbors, but if he was in his room, and she was in her room, well, he was no peeper. He didn’t stare, but he could see her. And maybe once he’d realized she was in her nightgown, he may have looked back once or twice. He was only human. That had kept him awake, too.

  “And you checked all the lower windows to make sure they were locked?” Ben was still hoping to fix this quickly and efficiently.

  She rolled her eyes at his persistent questioning. “I know I locked them all last night before I went to bed. Like I said, the only open window is the one to my bedroom. I guess I’ll have to call a locksmith . . .”

  He waited and watched as her expression changed from decisive to one of dawning realization. He could guess what was coming next. “Can I borrow your phone, please? Mine is sitting on my kitchen counter. Inside my tightly locked house.”

  That was just no way to start the day, and he found himself chuckling. Not at her, of course, but rather because he’d had those kinds of days. In fact, he’d had about four months straight of those kinds of days. “Do you have an extension ladder?” he asked.

  “Maybe? But it would be in my garage along with my car and my extra key.”

  “Maybe? How do you not know if you have an extension ladder or not?” That wasn’t really the point, but still, he was curious. It wasn’t like an ink pen or a paper clip. If you had something as big as an extension ladder, it seemed like you’d know it.