A Wish Upon a Star

by Jeannie Levig

  “Yup.” Leslie nodded, following Siena’s gaze. “Except for the refrigerator and the stove in the kitchen. I have to buy everything else.”

  “A couch?” Siena cocked her head.

  “Mm-hm. Two couches. One for in here and one for the family room.” Leslie glanced through the arched doorway. “And some chairs, maybe. And a few tables and a dinette set for the dining room…And a bedroom set…a desk…bookshelves…” The thought of filling an entire house all at once felt daunting as she heard the words leave her mouth.

  “I want a blue couch,” Siena said in that tone that made it seem as though whatever the topic was had been settled.

  “You do?” Leslie was grateful for Siena’s ability to bring everything back to that one statement. A blue couch. One decision made.

  “Yes.” Siena sat cross-legged in front of Leslie. “I wanted blue when my mom bought a new couch for our house, but she got a brown one. And I want to put it in there.” She pointed toward the family room. “I don’t like this room. This is where the people sit who aren’t supposed to be here. My grandma—she has wrinkles—she sits in this room at our house when she comes to see us.”

  Leslie understood completely. She’d felt the same way when she was a kid. This was a formal living room, used for things that weren’t for kids, like cocktail parties or wedding showers, or adult discussions with people who came over to see her mother. The family room was just that, for family, the ones you lived with, where you watched TV while you ate frozen dinners on trays for a special treat, or in Siena’s case, worked on puzzles. “Maybe we could change that,” Leslie said thoughtfully. “If you could put anything you want in here, what would it be?”

  Siena hesitated, then her gaze skittered over the floor, up the walls, then across the ceiling. “A jungle,” she said finally.

  “A jungle?” Leslie laughed and scratched her head. “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Knock knock?” Erica’s voice drifted into the house from the back. “Siena? Are you in there?”

  “We’re in the living room,” Leslie called before she remembered she was still sitting in the tangle of a sleeping bag in a red camisole and a pair of black silk boxers. Her hair had to be a mess. She smoothed her hand over it.

  Erica peeked around the corner from the family room. “There you are,” she said to Siena. “What happened to coming right back?”

  “I’m getting Gus,” Siena said.

  “I know, but you were supposed to come right home and not bother Leslie.” She glanced at Leslie on the floor. “And you weren’t supposed to wake her. Remember, you were going to knock softly?”

  “I did, but she didn’t hear me, so I had to knock louder.” Siena stroked Gus’s head. “And she didn’t hear that, so I had to come in.”

  Leslie smiled.

  Erica shot her an apologetic look. “We’re still working on some things.”

  Leslie laughed. “No problem whatsoever. I should be up anyway. I have a lot to do.”

  “Can me and Gus go outside and play?” Siena asked, scrambling to her feet.

  “Sure, sweetie,” Erica said as she made room in the doorway for the pair to race past her.

  “His ball’s on the counter,” Leslie called after them.

  The room was awkwardly silent with them gone.

  “I’m sorry she woke you,” Erica said after a moment. “We’re working on boundaries.”

  “Really, it’s no big deal.” Leslie started to rise, but her hips and lower back protested. She groaned and slowed. “Sleeping on the floor isn’t as easy as it used to be.” She chuckled.

  “I can’t even imagine.” Erica looked away, but not before sneaking a peek at Leslie’s chest.

  Leslie’s nipples tightened. Damn it. She shifted sideways and grabbed the jeans she’d tossed aside the night before. While she reminded herself that Erica was straight and neither of them had any interest in the other, she slipped them on. She just likes the camisole.

  Erica took a quick survey of the room. “It looks like your property management company did a good job with the cleaning and painting.”

  “Yeah, they did.” Leslie made a quick check to make sure all her parts were covered while Erica’s attention was elsewhere. “I was pleased.”

  Erica brought her gaze back to Leslie and smiled. “If your kitchen is as bare as this room, would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee or tea?”

  “Dinner last night and coffee this morning?” Leslie looked skyward. “A next-door neighbor sent by the gods.”

  “I could say the same thing,” Erica said quietly, her tone tempering their interaction.

  Leslie turned to her questioningly.

  “I want to thank you for cleaning up last night.” An emotion Leslie couldn’t quite identify shone in Erica’s eyes. “I don’t know if I could ever explain how much that meant to me. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

  “No one’s ever done your dishes?” Leslie asked, surprised.

  “No one’s ever taken care of routine things while I was handling Siena’s needs.” Erica gave her a soft smile. “Thank you. It was nice.”

  Leslie should have simply said, “You’re welcome,” and moved on, but she was too stunned. “Not even your husband? Trent’s never done anything like that?”

  Erica’s expression turned sad. “No.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and averted her gaze. “So it’s coffee you’d like?”

  Leslie took the hint. She hadn’t done her morning meditation or yoga yet but decided she could do it later in the day. “Coffee would be great.” She grinned and drew up her shoulders, then rubbed her hands together in an attempt to lighten the mood again. Her efforts were rewarded by the return of a smile to Erica’s face.

  “I’ll be right back,” Erica said.

  When she was alone, Leslie snatched up the shirt she’d left in a heap the night before and shook it out, but the wrinkles were persistent. She took the stairs two at a time and followed the hall to the master bedroom where she’d deposited her hanging clothes in the closet. It would take some adjustment in her thinking for her to be able to claim this room as hers. It’d always been her parents’ private space, and if she thought about it too much, it gave her the eeewies. It seemed that was something a child never out grew, even when the child was over fifty. Maybe once she got new furniture, though, and all of her own things, she’d be able to shake it. After all, it hadn’t been her parents’ room for a decade.

  She pulled a red blouse from its hanger and slipped it over her camisole, then straightened the cuffs of the three-quarter-length sleeves. She felt the need to be more covered after having Erica come in on her earlier. It was silly. She’d actually been wearing more this morning than yesterday when she’d met Erica in her raggedy cut-off shorts and a tank top with nothing underneath, but there was something more intimate about someone seeing her, and having a conversation with her, when she was wearing her sleep clothes. She buttoned the shirt halfway up, then headed downstairs.

  When her foot hit the bottom step, she was met with an excited bark and Gus staring up at her from the center of the room.

  He barked again.

  “What?” Leslie said, actually expecting an answer.

  Gus barked a third time, then made a dash toward the back of the house. He turned in the doorway to look at Leslie.

  “You want me to follow you?” she asked blankly.

  He ran to the back door.

  She thought of the old—very old—Lassie series with the collie that was always running to get help to save his little boy who was constantly getting into trouble. “Okay, Lassie,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s go find Timmy.” As soon as she stepped out onto the deck, though, she saw why he was so anxious.

  Leslie’s heart leapt.

  Siena was trying to squeeze her way between the bars of the wrought iron fencing around the pool. There was no way she could fit through the narrow slots, but she might get stuck.

  “Hey,” Les
lie said, hurrying toward her. “What are you doing?”

  “The ball went in the water,” Siena said with no interruption of her quest. “I have to get it so we can play more.”

  “Hold on,” Leslie said. “I’ll get it. Move away from the fence, please.” She waited to make sure Siena was complying, then jogged back into the house and retrieved the key to the gate from a kitchen drawer. When she returned, Siena was sitting on the cement beside the fence and petting Gus.

  “Siena,” she said, manipulating the lock on the gate.

  Siena didn’t look up.

  “Are you listening?” Leslie wasn’t sure if forcing eye contact the way she would have with Elijah was the right thing to do, so she just waited for an acknowledgement. She watched her.

  Siena nodded.

  “I don’t want you to ever go into the pool area unless you’re with me or your mom. Not through the bars. Not over the fence. Not even if you have the key for some reason. Okay? Do you understand?” Leslie slipped the padlock free and opened the gate, but she blocked the entrance as Siena stood. “Do you understand?” she asked again. “It isn’t because it’s a bad thing to do. It’s not safe, and you could get hurt.”

  Another nod.

  Leslie relented and stepped aside. As Siena and Gus moved past her, Leslie glanced at the dog quizzically. “Good, Lassie,” she muttered.

  Siena waited while Leslie took the net from its hooks and walked to the other side of the pool to fish the ball out of the water. Gus ran around the deck, barking at the drifting toy.

  “Quiet,” Leslie said, not certain of the time or whether her other neighbors might still be trying to sleep.

  Fortunately, he stopped barking.

  “Are you strutting?” Siena asked randomly.

  “Am I what?” Leslie pulled back the long pole, then reached into the net for the ball.

  “Strutting.” Siena tilted her head to one side.

  Leslie wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly, even the second time.

  Siena kept her from having to ask again. “My mom’s friend Becky said you were strutting around the pool like the pool guy in a porno movie,” she said.

  Leslie struggled to keep her eyebrows from shooting upward. “She did, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.” Siena looked at the ball in Leslie’s hand. “Only you’re a girl, so you’re a pool girl.”

  Gus barked and jumped for the ball.

  Leslie threw it over the fence and watched him race around to the gate and out into the yard after it, while she tried to think of something to say.

  “What’s a porno movie?” Siena asked.

  Leslie’s face went hot. “Uhhh…”

  “Here we are,” Erica called as she came from next door with a tray. “Two cups of coffee and some bagels and cream cheese. And, Siena, I brought you some juice if you want to join us.”

  “Me and Gus are playing ball,” Siena yelled as she chased Gus next door.

  Leslie exhaled a deep sigh of relief. She’d never been so grateful to escape a question. She returned the net to its place, relocked the gate, and joined Erica at the picnic table on her deck. She glanced at her. Strutting like a pool girl in a porno movie? Is that what she and that woman had been talking about on Erica’s patio yesterday? She supposed it was a compliment. “This is great,” she said, eyeing the offerings Erica had brought. “Thank you.”

  “I figured if you didn’t have coffee, you might not have anything to go with it either,” Erica said brightly. “Except for Funyuns, but I don’t think they’d go very well.”

  Leslie chuckled. “No, probably not. Besides, Gus ate them all.” She poured cream into her coffee from the small pitcher and took a swallow. She couldn’t hold back the moan of pleasure that bubbled up all the way from her toes. “That’s so good.” It’d only been two days since she’d had any, but it felt like weeks. And this coffee was something different. “What is this?”

  “I grind the beans myself and make a special blend,” Erica said, taking a sip of her own. “It’s a Columbian roast with some vanilla and cinnamon mixed in.”

  “It’s delicious,” Leslie said, taking in the soft curve of Erica’s neck and the way the morning breeze gently blew a few tendrils of hair over the creamy skin of her shoulder. What was it about that particular spot on Erica’s body that drew Leslie’s attention and made her all tingly? She forced her gaze across the lawn.

  Erica laughed as Siena and Gus ran back into view. “She sure loves that dog,” she said, the same joy shaping her features as yesterday. “And he’s so good with her. I’ve never seen anything like it. Last night, when he came upstairs…” She looked into her cup. “I guess I owe you an explanation for last night.”

  “No, you don’t. Not unless it’s something you want to share.” Leslie took a pre-cut bagel from the bag and began spreading cream cheese onto it. “Are you a thin layer girl, or the-more-the-better kind when it comes to your bagels and cream cheese?” she asked, allowing Erica a change in subject if she wanted one.

  She smiled. “Definitely the-more-the-better.”

  Leslie slathered on another healthy dollop, then passed the bagel to her.

  Erica looked surprised but accepted it. “Thank you.” She took a small bite.

  Erica had put on her sunglasses when she’d returned to her house for the coffee, and Leslie found herself wishing she could see her eyes, not necessarily to see into her soul or anything profound like that, but simply because they were so beautiful. What are you doing, Raymond? You’re going to screw up what might turn into a nice friendship if you keep this up. Did she want even a friendship, though? Becoming friends with Erica meant also opening her heart to Siena—she could tell they came as a package deal in any kind of interaction—and that was where the real danger lay. She could fend off an attraction to a woman who had no interest in her. But a child…a little girl who, without even trying, could melt her heart? Who was she kidding? Siena had already melted her heart with that first declaration that cows don’t have holes, just like Elijah had with his very first cry the day he was born.

  “Siena has ASD,” Erica said, rescuing Leslie from the dead-end road her thoughts were leading her down. “Autism Spectrum Disorder. She’s high functioning, but there are a lot of things that make her life more difficult than if she weren’t on the spectrum.” Erica’s voice was taut.

  “Like having her puzzle pieces torn up?” Leslie asked softly. She’d seen the damage after Erica had taken Siena upstairs. “And sprinklers that go all different ways at once?”

  “Yes, like that. And so much more.” The muscles in Erica’s jaw and throat visibly relaxed. “I’m always hesitant to say much when we meet new people because I don’t want her to be defined by the things that cause her problems. It would be like introducing myself by saying, ‘Hi, I’m Erica, and I’m set in my ways and lose stuff,’ instead of, ‘Hi, I’m Erica, a strong, self-sufficient woman who teaches journalism and dreams of writing a novel someday.’”

  Leslie could tell how important this conversation was to Erica by the deepening of the vertical crease that ran down the center of her forehead. All she wanted in that moment was to put Erica’s mind at ease. “It’s a good thing I met Siena before I met you then,” she said with a hint of humor. “Because all she showed me was how smart and amazing and enchanting she is. You probably would have messed it all up.” She grinned.

  Erica relaxed into a smile. “You’re probably right.” Her forehead went smooth.

  Mission accomplished. “You don’t need to worry about me and how I might react or what I think,” Leslie said, preparing a bagel for herself. “I’ll take my cues from you and Siena. And if there’s something I want to ask, is that okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Erica said. “I want you to. You seem to have a natural understanding to some degree, though. Do you have experience with ASD from somewhere?”

  “Not really.” Leslie thought of the woman from Elijah’s playgroup but didn’t want to address where she knew
her from. “I spent some time with a woman who had a son on the spectrum, and she told me a little. I wasn’t around him much, though.”

  “Do you have kids of your own?” Erica asked casually.

  Leslie’s chest tightened. Her throat went dry. “No,” she said with a little too much emphasis. “Just been around other people’s.”

  “That’s a shame.” Erica leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “You’re good with them.”

  Leslie looked down at her bagel, then took a bite. “Thanks,” she muttered as she chewed. She had to get off this topic. “So,” she said after a swig of coffee. “Set in your ways?”

  Erica laughed without missing a beat. “So I’m told. That was merely an example.”

  “Mm-hm,” Leslie said. And the air around them lightened again.

  They kept the conversation easy, steering away from anything serious. They watched Siena teach Gus to dance and chatted about their plans for the rest of the day.

  “I need to spend most of it shopping for furniture,” Leslie said, rubbing the small of her back where she was still stiff. “And some towels and sheets.” She held up the knife that had been stuck in the cream cheese. “And some dishes. I need to put those on my list. I forgot about them.”

  “You just left everything behind and headed west?” Erica asked, finishing off sounding like a cowboy.

  “I thought it’d be easier than packing and moving it all, but now that I’m here, it feels overwhelming.” Leslie twisted the tie around the bag holding the bagels to seal it. “I never realized how many things I’ve always taken for granted. Like the dishes. I mean, of course I have to buy dishes because I didn’t bring any, but it didn’t occur to me until you mentioned it.”

  “You can keep these cups and the knife for now, and I’ll bring you at least a place setting and a bowl and some necessities you can use until you pick up what you need. That way you can focus on the furniture today.” Erica smirked at her. “I saw you drink out of the hose yesterday. Everyone should at least have a cup.”

  “Are you a nosy neighbor?” Leslie asked teasingly. “What was that woman’s name in that old TV show, Bewitched? Mrs. Krantz?”