The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3)

by Katharine Sadler

  Oliver smiled, genuine amusement in his eyes, and I wondered if he was the crazy one and why I’d never noticed how bright his brown eyes got when he smiled. “I lied about cutting out sugar. I was just trying to give you the muffin without making you feel like you were depriving me of something I really wanted. If taking the muffin would make your day better it would make me happy, and we’d both win.”

  Ugh, why did he have to be so nice? It was impossible to hate all men when one of them was standing in front of me being kind and entirely unhateable. “Can I buy you a muffin?” I asked, feeling more than a little guilty about my outburst. “Maybe the peach?”

  His grin widened. “I’m more of a bran muffin man, myself. But I’m good.” He handed over the muffin. “Enjoy it.” Then he left before I could even thank him.

  “His name is Oscar,” May Belle said, her frown more than a little disapproving. “He’s a good guy.”

  I wanted to sink through the floor. “I’m getting that. And feeling like a total brat, right now.”

  Her frown faded. “We’ve all been there, girl. If you want, I’ll make sure I have bran muffins here tomorrow and you can buy him one. He stops by every morning about this time for tea.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling a bit better. “That’s a great idea.”

  I didn’t have time to sit and properly enjoy my muffin, so I waved to May Belle and stuffed half of it in my mouth as I walked out the door. That muffin was history by five steps past The Morning Brew. I pulled out my phone and lifted it to my ear, taking a swig of coffee as the phone rang precisely five times.

  “Dilly? Is that you?”

  “Morning, Momma. I’m at work. Just wanted to let you know I got here okay.” Yes, I was lying to my mother. If I waited until I got to work, I’d have to have this twenty-minute conversation in front of my colleagues, and they’d ask questions I didn’t want to answer.

  “Oh, good, sweetie. It’s late. I was starting to worry.”

  I bit back a sigh. I was precisely two minutes late, but my mother had noticed, she always noticed. “Yeah, I stopped at May Belle’s for a muffin. Sorry about that.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. I understand it’s difficult for you to call me every day. I know my worries burden you. It’s just that I had a bad feeling this morning and the weather says there’s going to be a nasty thunderstorm. I’d hate to think you’re out in it. I wish you wouldn’t walk to work when the weather’s bad.”

  “I drove.” Lying to my mother had become such a habit, I didn’t even flinch. “I do listen to your worries, Mom.”

  Overhead, thunder rumbled, and I picked up my pace. My mother often predicted life-ending weather or accidents that never happened, but that didn’t make me immune to lightening.

  “You drove? Did you have the car inspected last week like I suggested? And the oil changed?”

  “Sure did.” If there was a place in hell for liars, there was a reserved table there with my name on it.

  “Good,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Just don’t drive if it’s raining, honey. You can stay at the library if the storm is really bad, right?”

  “I can. And I will.”

  “Have you been to the doctor, lately? I just read about a woman who died suddenly from a tick bite. She hadn’t even known she’d been bitten. Do you check yourself for ticks, sweetie?”

  I wished I could take away my mother’s television and Internet, but she never left the house, never spoke to anyone but me and my aunt. Taking away anything more seemed too cruel. “I’d have to go into the woods to pick up a tick, Mom. You know how I feel about going into the woods.”

  “But you don’t have to go into the woods. You just have to walk through tall grass or…What if you picked one up on your shoe and carried it into your house? It could crawl around on your floor and get on the couch. You can never be too careful, and I have such a bad feeling today.”

  I shuddered. I didn’t share my mother’s crippling anxiety, but she never failed to make me think about things I’d never have concerned myself with otherwise. It was hard not to get angry with her sometimes, but I reminded myself that she was sick. Sure, there was medicine that could make her better, medicine she refused to take, treatment plans she refused to try, but I tried not to get mad, not to resent her. A long time ago I’d figured out that I had two options, cut my mother out of my life altogether or accept she was never going to change, was never going to get better, and have the only kind of relationship with her I could. “I’ll check my shoes before I step inside. I promise.”

  “And your socks. Ticks are tiny. They can hide anywhere.”

  “And my socks.”

  I paused in front of the stone, two-story library, my favorite place in the whole world. “I’ve got to get to work, Mom. I’ll call you on my lunch break.”

  “Okay, Dilly. Just be careful. I have such a bad feeling today.”

  “Watch Gilmore Girls, Mom. You know that always makes you feel better.”

  “I don’t know, Dilly. I just saw this expose about electronics in the home and how they can poison our bodies with radioactive rays. The government can even use them to spy on us.”

  “Mom.” I rubbed my temple. Someday I’d like to find every conspiracy theorist out there and beat the snot out of them. “You know I always get you the best quality products, right? I can guarantee your stuff is safe.”

  “Okay, Dilly.” She gave in much easier than she usually did. “Maybe I will watch something uplifting. I do love Lorelei.”

  “I know you do, Mom.” My throat tightened. Even after all these years, it still hurt to think of the woman my mother had once been. The free spirit sitting on the couch with me, watching Gilmore Girls while the scent of baking cookies filled the house. She’d never be that woman again and I needed to accept that. “I’ll call you on my lunch break.”

  “Okay, Daffodil, have a good day.”

  “You, too, Mom.”

  I slid my phone back into my pocket, pulled in a few deep breaths, and stepped inside my happy place.

  ***

  I sat in the comfy, over-sized chair in one of the library’s most homey, fun conference rooms and watched as the book club filed in. I had wanted to work in a library since I was old enough to get a library card and, after years of volunteering, getting my degree in library sciences, and working whatever job I could at the library, I finally had my dream job. I worked in outreach, primarily with seniors, organizing and running everything from book clubs to classes on computers and how to use e-readers. My job often necessitated that I go to one of three community centers or homes for seniors, but this particular group met at the library and, though I tried not to have favorites, they were my favorites.

  Betty took the seat closest to me, her scowl ever present. She was a bit of a grump, but Norma Jane had finally convinced her to join the book club and she’d provided several fascinating insights about the books we read. She was a beautiful older woman, aging the way every woman hoped she would, with smooth, dark skin and perfectly coiffed hair.

  “Good morning, Dilly,” Norma Jane said, strolling in all smiles, her slacks and button-down blouse more stylish than my own. She took a seat next to Betty.

  “Morning, Norma Jane,” I said.

  “Good morning, Betty,” Norma Jane said. “I hope you’re well.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Betty asked. “You still having trouble with your hip?”

  Norma Jane’s smile slipped a bit and she glanced at me. “I woke up the other morning feeling a bit stiff.” She turned to Betty. “I’m much better.”

  “You’re a stubborn old ass is what you are,” Betty said. “My grandson will see you and fix you right up, no charge.”

  Norma Jane pursed her lips. “I don’t accept charity.”

  “Stubborn ass,” Betty grumbled.

  Liddy and Leah walked in together, already chatting, and greeted us all. Then, the last member of our group, and my landlady, Mary, walked in, her laser-fo
cus aimed at me. Her gray hair was loose around her shoulders, so pretty and silvery, and she was dressed in a colorful maxi-skirt and a loose blouse, necklaces weighing her down. She was the quintessential flower child and one of the kindest people I knew. “Daffodil Thompkins, I never thought you’d be so rude and uncaring,” she said.

  I stared. “What did I do?”

  “What did you do?” Mary tossed her hands skyward as though looking for heavenly assistance. “Have you already forgotten about calling the police on your new neighbor? That sweet man. I can’t even imagine how upset he was to be accosted by the police like a common criminal.”

  “My new neighbor…?” And then the events of the morning flashed through my mind. Not just Abram and his lying ways, but the banging from next door, the sirens. “Oh, Mary. I didn’t know I had a new neighbor. I didn’t even know you were looking for a new renter, yet.”

  “I didn’t have to look,” she said. “Carrie mentioned to Norma Jane that her sister-in-law’s friend was looking for a bigger place and I offered up the other half of the duplex. I was going to mention it to you today at the book club meeting, but I never thought you’d react in such a cruel way to such a kind man.”

  I sighed, rubbing my temples, a dull ache starting up in the front of my head. “My boyfriend…Ex-boyfriend, Abram, is the one who called the police. It’s my fault. I heard noises next door and was concerned because I hadn’t heard about a renter. I should have checked it out myself. I’m so sorry.”

  Her frown couldn’t get any fiercer and I couldn’t feel any more like a wayward child. “You should be apologizing to that poor boy, Oscar. He did nothing wrong, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks to break the lease after this.”

  My heart sunk as I put the clues together. Carrie’s sister-in-law’s friend? Aubrey’s friend? The man who’d given me a muffin. The man I’d called Oliver? “You wouldn’t by any chance be talking about the Oscar who owns the salt spa downtown, would you?”

  “Of course, I am,” she said, her expression pure disappointment. “Here he is, new to town, and treated like a criminal for moving into his own home.”

  I knew better than to point out that Oscar had lived in town for more than a year.

  “Not Oscar,” Norma Jane said, tsking. “His salt treatments were the only thing that made me feel better this allergy season. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been able to be here today.” She gave me a dark look. “Didn’t you recognize him?”

  “I didn’t see him,” I said. “It was Abram who talked to him. But Abram isn’t the type to fly off the handle. I’m sure he wouldn’t have called the police unless Oscar gave him good reason to be suspicious.” I might be furious with Abram, but I honestly believed what I’d said about him. He was rational first and foremost.

  That statement earned me fierce scowls from all the women in the room. They might be old enough to be my grandmothers, but they were nothing short of scary. “I promise, I will apologize profusely to Oscar tonight,” I said. “Can we discuss the book now?”

  The women all glared at me for several long seconds, before Leah, always the peacekeeper, offered an opinion about the romantic suspense we’d read.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Oscar

  I saw Dilly before she saw me. She said hello to people she passed and waved at neighbors out on porches, her smile friendly and warm. She had a bag over her shoulder and was carrying a box. When no one was looking, her smile vanished and her steps slowed, like she carried something heavier than what I could see. She was dressed casually in skinny jeans and a brightly-colored, over-sized t-shirt, like her clothes could make the rainbow she needed in her day.

  When she turned onto the short walkway to the duplex and her big, brown eyes lit on me, her small mouth spread into a heartbreaking smile. My breath caught, my heart stuttered, and there was no way on earth I’d do anything other than smile back at her from my seat on the front porch. I smiled, even though she didn’t remember my name, even though she was probably just smiling to be polite, even though I should probably have my guard up around her. I’d liked Dilly since I’d met her, when she’d bounced into the restaurant where I was having lunch with Aubrey, Carrie by her side. She’d cuddled Aubrey’s little girl, spreading love around like she had more than enough to give. She’d glowed with life and energy and light, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, hadn’t been able to look at anyone else when she was around. It bugged me, because I was generally a rational, logical guy, but I couldn’t use logic on my feelings for Dilly, they were beyond my control. And I was incapable of acting on them, because she hadn’t been single for longer than a minute since we’d met. That and she’d never seemed to notice me at all.

  She walked up the steps and sat next to me, like she belonged in my space, like she’d never question that I’d want her to sit next to me. A faint citrusy scent that was probably her shampoo wafted my way. If I had to guess, I’d say Dilly didn’t wear perfume. “I need to apologize,” she said.

  “It’s fine.” It was more than fine. “I really didn’t want the muffin as much as you did.”

  She sighed and scrunched up her nose, glancing at the sidewalk before she looked back at me and smiled again. And again the expression, the small upturn of her mouth, took my breath away. “Yeah, I really did want that muffin, but I’m also sorry that I unloaded on you about my morning and that I got your name wrong, Oscar.”

  I almost wished she hadn’t figured out my name, because the sound of my actual name in her sweet, slightly breathy voice almost hurt it felt so good. I swallowed hard. I was going insane. Over a woman. “It’s fine. We’ve only met once or twice and you got—”

  She held up a hand, her smile slipping. “There’s more. I’m also sorry that my ex-boyfriend called the cops on you.”

  All my anger and annoyance from that morning came flooding back. I’d wanted so badly to punch that smug idiot in the mouth when he’d been spouting off a bunch of entitled nonsense, but then the cops had showed up and I decided an assault charge wouldn’t help anything. I couldn’t believe Dilly would date a douche bag like that. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing she hadn’t shown any interest in me if those were the kind of jerks she went for.

  “Anyway,” she said, oblivious to my inner monologue. “I’m really sorry. I brought you a dozen bran muffins to make up for it. They’re still warm.”

  I just stared, my chest tightening, my stomach dropping. “Wait. You’re my new neighbor?” It was a relief not to be living next to that asswipe, Abram, but if Dilly lived next to me…I didn’t have a lot of rules about dating, but even I knew it was a terrible idea to get involved with your neighbor. It may have worked out for Aubrey’s brother-in-law, Cody, and his wife Carrie, but that was a one-in-a-million chance.

  She shoved the muffins at me and I took them. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to move, but I promise Abram will never be over here again. I’m a good neighbor. I won’t cause you any more problems and I’ll never call the cops on you, even if you’re having a rave at your place at two in the morning.”

  She looked so sincere and so darn sexy, with her eyes wide, her lips pursed, her hair pushed over one shoulder, exposing her delicate neck. I wanted to pull her into my arms and press my cheek to the smooth skin of her neck, just to find out soft it was, how good she smelled. I shoved a muffin in my mouth before I said or did something that would make our neighborly relationship awkward. “It’s not your fault,” I said, once I’d finished inhaling the muffin. “You probably didn’t even know what he was doing.”

  She sighed, relief written on every line of her small face. She was so damn tiny, and yet nothing about her seemed frail or weak. In fact, I was pretty sure she could kill me just by continuing to sit next to me and smiling at me that way. “Nope. I was inside looking at his phone. The one with a naked picture from his wife.”

  “You were searching his phone?”

  She grimaced. “The text flashed across his sc
reen, and I just happened to see it. Once I’d seen it, though, yeah, I searched his phone.”

  “Understandable.” I grabbed another muffin. I hadn’t had dinner, yet, and the muffins were damn good warm.

  She stared straight ahead, her posture stiff. “Are you waiting for someone?” she finally asked.

  The question caught me off guard. “What?”

  “I thought you might be sitting out here on the porch because you’re waiting for someone.”

  “It’s a nice night,” I said. “And the view here is amazing. I figured I’d watch the sun set over the mountains.” Across the street were houses similar to ours and behind them was an uninterrupted view of the mountains beyond.

  She bounced a little and laughed, a big roar of a laugh that seemed too large for her body. “I sit out here to watch the sunset every night. I’ve never met anyone else who cares about sunsets. We must be soul mates.”

  Soul mates. I’d believed in soul mates once, had thought I was engaged to my soul mate, but she’d only seen me as a pay check and a status symbol. I didn’t believe in soul mates anymore, but I liked the idea of being Dilly’s. “I’d love the company.”

  We sat together on the porch in silence, not moving, and watched the sun set. It was a glorious, spring-time sunset, all pinks and purples and smoky hazes. Once it had slipped behind the mountains and out of sight, Dilly dropped her head and mumbled something I couldn’t make out. When she looked up, her eyes were damp, but she was smiling. “That,” she said. “That is my favorite part of every day and the reason I’ll never leave Catalpa Creek.”

  “Never?” I was beyond curious about this woman I barely knew. This woman I felt I’d just shared an intimate moment with.

  Her smile was tinged with sadness. “I’d never find anywhere as beautiful. I just…This is where my soul belongs, you know? Have you ever felt that way about a place?”