“That would be great!” Chandler smiled enthusiastically.
May forced a smile and placed her hands on the arms of her chair. She pushed herself up and dragged her right leg a little to the left so she could maneuver around the chairs. “I’ll be right back.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she limped into the house. May stiffened her spine. Sooner or later, he would see her disability. May as well get it the hell over with early. She grabbed a glass out of her cabinet and turned to walk back to the yard.
Her right leg was killing her. The old scar ached like an infected tooth. Maybe she should have wrapped up her gardening session a bit earlier.
May slid the patio door open and shuffled outside. She set the glass down and poured the lemonade slowly.
Chandler grinned up at her. “I appreciate this. I don’t have anything unpacked yet. Haven’t made it to the grocery store. I was about to break out a sippy cup.”
May eased herself into her own chair and chuckled. “That would have been a pity.”
“That’s what I thought.” Chandler swigged the lemonade and smiled at her. He motioned to the yard. “This is stunning. Did you do it all yourself?”
“Every bit of it.” May poured herself another glass of lemonade. She took a sip and studied the man in front of her.
He looked to be in his mid to late twenties. Short dark brown hair and eyes. A nice build for a man who proclaimed to work from his home. Sturdy. Compassionate if he was willing to sacrifice his time for his sister and niece. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a green short-sleeved T-shirt.
Good neighbor material. Someone she could rely on for a cup of sugar or maybe a tool she didn’t have and needed.
“I didn’t mean to take up your time.” Chandler stood and smiled down at her. “I still have a lot to do. More things to unpack than I ever thought possible.” He smoothed Billie’s hair down. “Thanks again for the lemonade.”
“My pleasure.” May smiled and watched as Chandler let himself out of her yard. He made sure the latch engaged before he waved a little above the top of the fence and disappeared.
It had been interesting.
May expected all sorts of questions about her leg. How did it happen? When did it happen? Not a peep out of her new neighbor. Most people absolutely fell all over themselves to pry into her injury.
May took another sip of her lemonade. It would be nice to have someone close by she could trust.
* * * *
She sat outside for another hour before she stood shakily and stretched. Gardening her passion, accounting her job. May limped back into the house with the glasses inside the empty pitcher. She slid the patio door open and shut it behind her.
The air conditioner wasn’t on yet. Too early for that. But May felt gritty and needed to take a shower before she sat down in her office to begin her professional day. She brushed the hair back from her face and set the dishes in the sink. Perhaps a bath this early afternoon. Her right leg ached like a son of a gun. Maybe if she soaked it long enough, she could forgo the damn pain pills.
She hated them. They reminded her of all the things she would never do again. Her past with the door firmly shut and locked behind her.
May stripped on the way to the bathroom and let her feet sink into the plush robin’s egg blue carpet. Her walls were a couple of shades lighter with several pastel portraits and garden scenes that tapered down the hallway to her room.
She passed by the stairs and didn’t even look up. The second floor more of a storage space than anything else. The stairs were a bitch to traverse especially when her leg gave her fits. She would just stay on the ground floor and deal with the torturous stairs when she had to.
The clothes hamper a lovely wicker with a pink and blue floral top. May flipped the lid open and threw her clothes inside. She glanced at herself in the large sink top mirror and groaned.
She had dirt all over her forehead and cheeks. Her new neighbor probably thought she was some kind of hillbilly. The thought tickled her so much that she couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Even Billie had been cleaner than she had been.
May bent over and turned on the faucets to the tub. She admired the flow of the big garden tub with the sweet pea candles on the edges. Lovely. A nice place to sit, reflect, and prune to her heart’s desire. She made sure the temperature was fairly hot before she sat down on the edge of the tub. She rubbed her right leg absently at the familiar ache.
The scar looked hideous. A thick, rigid, raised line of skin from her right inner thigh to mid-calf. An inch thick in some places and less than a quarter-inch in others. The doctors assured her how lucky she had been not to lose the leg.
She had been lucky, hadn’t she? The fall she took from her horse could have killed her. The doctors were astounded she hadn’t suffered permanent brain damage. But all her faculties remained intact. It had been her body that paid the heavy price.
May traced the scar for a second before she sighed heavily. The death of more than her nerves in her legs bothered her. That one accident forever altered her life.
A promising acting career. A life in film. The entire course of her future changed.
It wasn’t so much the acting she missed, but the choices that went with it. One fatal accident on a shoot, and no more acting.
Never to act again. And never to ride a horse again.
They’d had to put Sunshine down. Even the thought of her faithful pinto could bring a lump to her throat and a tear to her eye.
May cleared her throat and turned the water off. She eased herself into the hot water with a hiss. With her body fully submerged, she laid her head back against the soft green pillow she kept there.
The heat worked wonders for her aches and pains. It seemed to loosen some of the tension that everyday tasks tightened her body with.
But the gardening had always been part of her life. No matter how much pain it cost her, she would never give it up.
She’d given up too much already.
May closed her eyes and let her mind wander. There were several accounts she needed to work on this afternoon. A financial plan for a local business. She couldn’t prune too long this afternoon. May grabbed a bath cloth and scrubbed her face until the dirt disappeared. She traced the small crow’s feet by her eyes and chuckled. Maybe a bit more make-up would make it less noticeable. Of course, who the hell notices anyway?
She sank farther into the tub. No one. May grabbed her face cream and slathered it on. Forty certainly no spring chicken. She chuckled at the thought. And even with the cream, time always took its toll eventually.
“No big deal,” she muttered as she wiped the cream off. May hooked the stopper with her toe and let the water drain slowly out of the tub. She grabbed the bar on her right and levered herself upright. The leg hurt a little less. Good. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped a large pink towel around herself.
May brushed her hair out and clipped it back in a tight bun. She slathered lotion on her body and opened the medicine cabinet. The pain pills glared back at her.
“Screw you,” she said and shut the cabinet again. She wouldn’t be a slave to the pills. No matter the pain.
May gripped the bathroom sink with both hands to steady herself. When she felt a little better, she straightened and walked into her bedroom. The towel dropped on her bed and almost faded into the bold floral patters of her comforter.
Her room existed as a testament to her love of flowers. There were vases on both dressers with fresh-cut flowers. Lilacs in one. Blue irises in the other. A large ornate mirror sat above the closest dresser. Her nightstand held her reading glasses, a floral lamp, and a stack of three books.
Even though she worked from home, she wore more professional attire when she worked from her office. May took the soft blue pantsuit out and tossed it on the bed. Then she took out a soft white camisole set and put it on. No shoes. That wasn’t even a thought. Barefoot always worked best for her.
May slid her clothes on and
walked out of her bedroom and into the hallway. She picked up the remote control and clicked on some soft classical music.
The kitchen looked homey and lived-in. A large butcher block table stood in the center with six wooden chairs surrounding it. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks above the table. The refrigerator and stove were a soft peach color. A fresh bouquet of flowers in a wicker basket sat on the windowsill that faced her garden. Fresh fruit in a white porcelain bowl sat atop of the table. May plucked a banana off the top and peeled it while she walked to the refrigerator. She snagged a small container of strawberry yogurt.
The handles of each drawer were flowers. The tulips held her cutlery, and she slid the door open without even looking down and grabbed a spoon.
What she wouldn’t give to have fresh fruit in her garden. May dipped into the yogurt and let her mind wander over the next part of her garden plan. She still needed to refinish the hand-carved patio furniture in the gazebo. Put a rock path from her back door to the gazebo and the left side of her garden where she eventually wanted a fountain.
May ate her banana and yogurt with her mind a million miles away and then threw the peel and container away. She moved away from the table she leaned on and cursed softly at the pain that shot through her leg.
Time for the next stop. Her office.
May limped slightly into her office and looked longingly at her brown leather chair. Only a few more steps. She reached it and sank into it with a sigh.
Her desk always a bit messy. May smiled and turned her computer on. It blipped and clicked while she grabbed a diet soda out of a small refrigerator behind her. Folders in half a dozen hues sat on her left. All her writing utensils on her right. And various post-it notes littered the desktop.
May had a small office supply fetish. She grinned and grabbed her favorite pen from its holder. A red enamel pen with a medium point. Silver filigree ran from the top of the pen halfway down.
She logged onto her computer and brought up the accounting program. Then she started her professional day.
* * * *
May understood numbers. Seemed to be a gift to her. Put them in the right order, balance them, and it always worked out. People were much harder to get to add up. She perused the numbers for the new floral business and smiled. The proprietors seemed to have a good head on their collective shoulders. Low overhead. Nice business plan. Just a few tweaks, and there would be a profit in a little more than a year. One of the women approached her a week ago and asked if she could take a look at the project.
That one now well in hand, May shuffled the papers and took a sip of her diet soda. Spring had always been a great season for preparing business accounts. Tax season fairly over. All her clients had their taxes prepared and already sent off. One more worry they wouldn’t have.
May plucked a yellow folder from her stack and opened it. Spades Hardware had financial difficulties. Rising gas prices and a slow economy were taking a toll on the town’s oldest hardware store. She ran her fingers over the numbers and frowned.
There would be no easy way to break it to the owner. They would have to reduce their staff. May sighed. Just what the small town needed. A lay-off at one of the biggest employers. She rubbed her temple. Damn it all. Surely there had to be another way.
She pulled out more papers and studied them closely. Perhaps they could consolidate trips for supplies. Pare the supply run to one day a week. Her light brown eyes squinted, and she sighed. May took out a pair of reading glasses and put them on. The numbers became clearer instantly.
She studied three or four more papers. They could cut out overtime. Hire a few high school employees to help out after school. May ran her fingers through her hair and nodded. It might work. And all the old-timers at the store wouldn’t have to worry about an early retirement or an end to their salaries.
May pushed back from her desk and slid her glasses from her face. She set them down on the edge of her desk and breathed deeply. Almost five. Her stomach growled in protest, and she chuckled. Who needed a clock when her internal clock always told her the time?
Even as a little girl, she had no use for alarm clocks. When May told herself to wake up, she did. When her stomach growled, she would reach inside and know the time. Used to drive her parents crazy.
May steadied herself and eased upright with a small groan. Time to wind down for the night. Grab a bite to eat and enjoy the evening. She limped into the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread from the breadbox. Then she added chicken breast, lettuce, tomato, and purple onion. May tilted her head to the side and studied the mayo and mustard. One obviously had to be a little better for her.
May shrugged and grabbed the mayo. She spooned a bit on the top of her bread and laid the sandwich on a paper plate. Then she shuffled to her pantry and opened the door.
So many choices. May put her hands on her hips. She already blew it with the mayo. May as well have some fattening chips to go with it. Her lips twitched as she grabbed the sour cream and onion bag. The chips fell onto her plate, and May grabbed a folded one. They were her absolute favorite.
She munched contentedly and refolded the bag. Then May grabbed her drink and opened her patio door.
Twilight still many hours away, but the peace enfolded her instantly. A gorgeous evening. May bit into her sandwich and wiped her mouth with a paper towel. She leaned back in her chair and folded her legs at the ankle.
Music would be nice, but May listened to the music of the evening. Crickets chirping. Birds singing. Bees buzzing. An occasional car would pass, but mostly the simple sounds of the night. May finished her sandwich and washed it down with the last of her can of soda. She sighed contentedly and crossed her arms behind her head. Her eyes closed slowly.
“Uh uh.”
May popped one eye open, and her lips twitched. The escape artist stood in her yard while an exasperated uncle tried quietly to motion the child over to him. Chandler made shushing noises and crawled over on his hands and knees to retrieve the small girl.
She shrieked and scooted backward.
Chandler cringed and looked up to meet May’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” He apologized and stood up. “It’s bath time. And little Miss here doesn’t want one.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking of belling her. Every time I turn around, she’s taken off.” His brown eyes studied his watch. “I have half an hour to make her presentable, or Amanda will read me the riot act.”
Billie picked a handful of grass and smiled at her uncle. Then she stuck it in her mouth.
Chandler shouted and ran over to her. He dug the grass out and shook his head. Then he scooped her up and sighed. The little girl immediately began to cry.
May studied the pair with a small smile. She would never be a mother, but she had a soft spot for little ones.
“Mr. Hughes.”
His chocolate eyes met hers. “Chandler, please.”
“Chandler.” May smiled. “I happen to have a very nice large tub upstairs. You wouldn’t have to trip over moving boxes to get to it. And I think I may have some toys little Miss could entertain herself with while you scrubbed her.”
Relief washed over his face. “You’re a lifesaver, May. A real lifesaver.” He checked his watch again. “I’m rather running out of time. I’ll go and grab her nightclothes. Be back here in five minutes.”
And then he took off through her gate.
May shook her head. Poor man. Must have been a whole new world when Billie learned to walk and found out she could make her way anywhere she chose. May rubbed her leg absently and waited for her neighbor to return.
Exactly three minutes later, Chandler came back into her yard with a struggling little girl and a handful of clothes.
“We’re ready.”
May nodded and pushed up from her chair. She rubbed her leg and hobbled to the patio door. “The second bath is up the stairs and to the right. You can’t miss it.” She led the pair to the steps. “Towels are in the cabinet. There’s tear-free sha
mpoo and a couple of toys in a basket in the linen closet. Help yourself.”
Chandler took the stairs two at a time and disappeared upstairs.
May walked slowly back into the kitchen and cleaned up her slight mess. She glanced at the clock. Almost six-thirty. Chandler better do some fast scrubbing. May sat at her kitchen table and waited.
Chandler came back into the kitchen at six thirty-five. He carried a sleeping girl in his arms. The toddler smelled of gardenias. The man now soaking wet.
“I’ll drop Billie off and be back to clean up the, um, small mess we made upstairs.” He shuffled his feet and grinned shamefacedly.
May chuckled. “Not a problem. Have you had dinner yet?”
“No.” Chandler sighed. “I planned to order some pizza after Billie left.”
“I can whip you up a sandwich.” May motioned to the clock. “You won’t have to fight the moving boxes, and you might actually unwind after your busy day.”
Chandler’s eyes darkened as they studied her. “You would do that for me?”
“Sure.” May smiled. “What are neighbors for?”
“I’m a blessed man.” Chandler shifted Billie to his other arm and walked quickly through the patio door. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Be back in ten.”
May stood and whipped up a dry sandwich. She would ask Chandler his preference when he came back. She threw together a small salad and looked in the refrigerator to see if she had a beer to offer him. There was an unopened six-pack on the bottom shelf. Her neighbor was a lucky man, after all.
May put everything on the plate and turned to place it on the kitchen table when Chandler tapped on the patio door. She motioned him inside.
He glanced at the plate with gratitude written all over his face. Then he looked at May. “If you ever need an organ or anything like that, I’m your man.”
May chuckled. “What would you like on your sandwich? I had no idea so I left it dry. I also have some beer in the refrigerator if you’d like some.”
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