Neighborly Thing

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Glen stayed close behind, holding his breath as Sinda entered the guest room where Tara lay sleeping.

  Sinda walked over to the dresser, bent down, and opened the bottom drawer, then placed the doll arm inside. When she banged the drawer shut, Tara bolted upright in bed. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Tara,” Glen whispered. “Me and Sinda.”

  Tara snapped on the light by her bed. “What’s going on, Dad? What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?”

  “Go back to sleep. I’ll explain everything in the morning.” Glen took Sinda’s hand and led her toward the door.

  “Wait a minute!” Tara called. “If something weird’s going on, I want to know about it! After all, I was forced to spend the night in this creepy house, and I’m supposed to be helping you solve a big mystery.”

  Glen nodded. “You do deserve an explanation, but now’s not the time. I need to get Sinda back to her own room.”

  “What’s she doing in here again?”

  Glen’s forehead wrinkled. “Again? What do you mean?”

  “She was in here earlier. I asked what she wanted, but she didn’t answer. She walked over to the window, stood there a few minutes, then left. It was really creepy, Dad.”

  Sinda stood there, staring off into space and holding Glen’s hand as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Glen glanced over at her before he spoke to Tara again. “I think Sinda’s been sleepwalking,” he whispered. “I found her in the kitchen, then followed her to the basement.”

  “What was she doing down there?”

  “Getting a doll part. She put one in the oven, and just now she placed a doll arm in that drawer.” He pointed to the dresser and frowned.

  “How weird!” Tara exclaimed. She nodded her head toward Sinda. “Just look at her. She’s staring off into space like she doesn’t know where she is.”

  “She doesn’t,” Glen said. “She has no idea what she’s done, or even that she’s out of her bed.”

  “Then wake her up.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I heard somewhere that waking a sleepwalker might cause them some kind of emotional trauma.” He glanced at Sinda again, feeling a deep sense of concern. “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but to be on the safe side, I think I’ll wait and tell her in the morning.”

  Suddenly Sinda began swaying back and forth, hollering, “Oh, my head! It hurts so bad!”

  Glen held her steady, afraid she might topple to the floor.

  She blinked several times, then looked right at him. “Glen? What are you doing in my room?”

  “This isn’t your room,” he answered. “It’s the guest room.”

  Sinda’s face was a mask of confusion. “I’m in the guest room?”

  He nodded. “I followed you here. You were sleepwalking.”

  ❧

  Sinda sat at the kitchen table, holding a cup of hot chocolate in one hand. “I still can’t believe I’m the one responsible for all those missing doll parts.” She looked over at Glen, who sat in the chair beside her. “Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

  He reached out and took hold of her free hand. “No, but I believe you’re deeply troubled about that diary you found in your mother’s trunk.”

  Sinda feigned a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever walked in my sleep before. In fact, the doll parts didn’t turn up missing until that stupid trunk arrived. Maybe that’s when all the sleepwalking began.”

  She saw Glen glance at the clock across the room. It was nearly two in the morning. Tara was back in bed, but Sinda needed to talk, so Glen had suggested they come to the kitchen for hot chocolate.

  “Sinda,” Glen said hesitantly, “I know you’re upset about your recent discoveries, and I think maybe your subconscious has chosen to deal with it in a rather unusual way.”

  Sinda blew on her cocoa before taking a tentative sip. “I’ll bet there are doll parts hidden all over this house. How am I ever going to make it stop happening?” A sickening wave of dread flowed through her. She looked at Glen, hoping he could give her some answers. “I can’t go on living like this. Doll repairing and selling antiques is my livelihood. I can’t keep losing doll parts or wandering around the house at all hours of the night like a raving lunatic.”

  “You’re not a lunatic,” Glen said softly. “I think the best thing for you to do is try to put the past behind you and start looking to the future.”

  “The future?” she shot back. “Do I even have a future?”

  A tear trickled down her cheek, and Glen dried it with his thumb. “Of course you have a future. One with me, I hope.”

  Sinda rested her head on his shoulder and a low moan escaped her lips. “I only wish it were that simple.”

  “It can be,” he whispered.

  She lifted her head. “You have a spirited daughter to raise, Glen. Do you really want to take on the responsibility of baby-sitting your neurotic neighbor?”

  Glen graced her with a tender smile. “It would give me nothing but pleasure.”

  “What about Tara?”

  “What about her?”

  “She doesn’t like me. And this discovery won’t help.”

  Glen leaned over and gently kissed her. “She’ll grow to love you as much as I do.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, maybe not quite that much.”

  Sinda smiled in spite of her nagging doubts. She glanced at the clock again. “I’ve kept you up half the night. I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.”

  “I’d do it all over if you’d promise to think about a future with me,” he said.

  She studied him intently, realizing he had a much softer heart than she’d ever imagined. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Couldn’t be more serious.” He drew her into his arms. “I don’t want to rush you into a relationship you’re not ready for.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ve still got a lot of things to work out.”

  “I’m here if you need me, and when the time’s right, I hope to make you my wife.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “You’d be willing to marry a crazy sleepwalker who can’t deal with her past?”

  He snickered. “I’m not worried about that. I think as you begin to trust God fully and let Him help you work through the pain, there’ll be no need for your nightly treks.”

  “I hope you’re right, Glen,” she murmured. “I really hope you’re right.”

  Twenty-one

  For the next several weeks, things went better. Sinda was able to locate most of the missing doll parts, her sleepwalking had lessened, and Tara, though reluctantly, did seem a bit more resigned to the fact that Glen and Sinda planned to keep seeing one another. Sinda and Glen had gone to a couple of yard sales, and they’d even taken Tara on a picnic at the lake. They had also started praying regularly and studying the Bible together several evenings a week.

  Sinda’s biggest hurdle came when she agreed to attend church with the Olsens on the first Sunday of August. Today would be the first time she’d been in church since her father died, and just the thought of it set her nerves on edge. Would she fit in? Would the memory of Dad and his hypocrisy keep her from worshiping God?

  She stood in front of the living room window, waiting for Glen to pick her up, and when she closed her eyes briefly, she could see her father sitting in his church pew with a pious look on his face. “How could I have been so blind? I knew how harsh Dad was with me. Every sharp word. . .every physical blow. . . Why didn’t I realize he’d been the same way with Mother? Why did I blame her for his actions?”

  A knock on the front door drew Sinda away from the window. Glen was waiting. It was time to go to church.

  ❧

  Sinda glanced over at Glen, then past him to Tara, who sat on his other side. He was smiling and nodding at the pastor’s words. An occasional “Amen” would escape his lips. Was Glen really all he seemed to be? How could she be sure he wasn’t merely pretending to be a good Christian, th
e way her father had? Could she ever learn to fully trust again?

  “God’s Word says, ‘Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done..’ ” Pastor Benton’s quote from Philippians 4:6 (nlt) rocked Sinda to her soul. She’d spent so many years worrying about everything, praying about little, and never thanking God for the answers she’d received to those prayers she had uttered. Hadn’t it been God, working through Glen, who showed her the facts regarding the missing doll parts? Hadn’t she learned the truth about her mother because God allowed her the opportunity to read that diary?

  The pastor’s next words resounded in her head like the gong of her grandfather clock. “In Hebrews 11:1 we are told that faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. The sixth verse of the same chapter reminds us that without faith it’s impossible to please God.” Pastor Benton looked out at the congregation. “How is your faith today? Are you sure of God’s love? Have you put your hope in Him? Are you certain of the things which you cannot see?”

  Sinda knew her faith had been weak for a long time. She’d allowed her father’s deceit and abusive ways to poison her mind and cloud her judgment. She couldn’t trust men because she hadn’t been trusting the Lord.

  As though he sensed her confusion, Glen reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She smiled and clasped his fingers in response. It was time to leave the past behind. Sinda was ready to look to the future and begin to trust again. She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to God.

  ❧

  The pungent, spicy smell of Glen’s homemade barbecue sauce simmering in the Crock-Pot permeated the air as Sinda and Glen entered his kitchen after church. Tara was out in the living room watching TV, and Sinda was glad they could be alone for a few minutes. “Need help with anything?” she asked.

  He nodded toward the nearest cupboard. “I guess you can set out some paper plates and cups while I start forming the hamburger patties and get the chicken out of the refrigerator.”

  Glen headed for the refrigerator, and Sinda moved toward the cupboard he’d indicated. They collided somewhere in the middle of the room, and Glen quickly wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, I could get used to this kind of thing,” he murmured.

  She smiled up at him. “You think so?”

  “Does this answer your question?” He bent his head, and his lips eagerly sought hers. The kiss only lasted a few seconds because they were interrupted by a deep voice.

  “Ah-ha! So this is how you spend your Sunday afternoons!”

  Sinda pulled away and turned to see Glen’s brother standing inside the kitchen doorway, arms folded across his broad chest and a smirk on his bearded face.

  “Phil! How’d you get in here?” Glen asked, brushing his fingers across his lips.

  “I came to the front door, and Tara let me in. The kid said you were fixing hamburgers and chicken to put on the grill, but it looks to me like you were having dessert.” Phil chuckled and winked at Sinda. Her face flamed, and she turned away.

  “If you’d been in church this morning I might have asked you to join our barbecue,” Glen said in a none-too-friendly tone.

  The day Phil delivered her screen door Sinda had noticed the tension between the brothers, and she’d wondered what caused it. After hearing Glen’s comment about church, she surmised that the problem could be about Phil’s lack of interest in spiritual things.

  “I was forced to go to Sunday school every day until I moved out of Mom and Dad’s house, so I’m not about to spend all my Sundays sitting on hard pews, listening to doom and gloom from a pastor who should have retired ten years ago,” Phil said with a sweeping gesture.

  Glen made no comment, but when Sinda chanced a peek at him, she saw that his face was flushed.

  Phil sniffed the air. “Something sure smells good. How about inviting me to join your little barbecue, even if I was a bad boy and skipped church this morning?”

  Glen marched over to the cupboard and withdrew a glass pitcher and a jar of pre-mixed tea. He handed it to Phil. “Here, if you’re going to join us, you may as well make yourself useful.”

  ❧

  As Glen flipped burgers on the grill, then checked the chicken on the rack above, he felt a trickle of sweat roll down his forehead and land on his nose. It was a warm day, and the barbecue was certainly hot enough to make a man perspire, but he knew the reason he felt so hot was because he was irritated about his brother joining them for lunch. Ever since Phil had shown up unannounced, he’d been hanging around Sinda, bombarding her with stupid jokes, and dropping hints about taking her out sometime. If Glen hadn’t been trying to be a good Christian witness, he’d have booted his brother right out the garden gate.

  Tara seemed to be enjoying her uncle’s company, but Glen wondered if she was really glad to see Uncle Phil—or was she delighting in the fact that he was keeping Sinda away from her dad?

  The meat was done, and Glen was about to tell his guests they could sit at the picnic table when he saw Sinda move toward the gate that separated their backyards. Was she leaving? Had she had all she could take of Phil the Pill?

  He set the platter of chicken and burgers on the table and followed her. “Sinda, where are you going?”

  She turned to face him. “I think I heard a car pull into my driveway. I’d better see who it is.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Glen offered.

  She eyed him curiously. “Don’t you want to stay and entertain your brother?”

  “Phil’s a big boy. He can take care of himself until we get back.”

  She shrugged, opened the gate, and Glen followed her around front. A sporty red car was parked in Sinda’s driveway, and an attractive woman with short blond hair was heading toward the house.

  “Carol!” Sinda waved. “What are you doing here?”

  “I stopped by to see if you wanted to go to the mall, and maybe stop by my favorite pizza place for something to eat afterward.”

  “Actually, I was next door, about to sink my teeth into a juicy piece of barbecued chicken.” Sinda gave Glen a quick glance, then swung her gaze back to her friend. “I guess you two haven’t met.”

  “Not in person, but if this is the handsome mailman I’ve heard so much about, then I feel like I already know you,” Carol announced.

  Glen bit back the laughter bubbling in his throat. So Sinda had been talking about him. He smiled at Carol and extended his hand. “I’m Glen Olsen.”

  “Carol Riggins. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Carol and I have been friends since we were children,” Sinda said. “Carol went to college while I stayed home repairing dolls and catering to my dad. Shortly after her graduation she moved from Seattle to Elmwood, and she’s been after me to move here ever since.”

  “I’m glad you were finally persuaded,” Glen said, placing his hand against the small of Sinda’s back.

  Carol started moving toward her car. “I should probably get going. The mall will only be open until six, and I don’t want to keep you from your barbecue.”

  “Why don’t you join us?” Sinda turned to face Glen. “You wouldn’t mind one more at the table, would you?”

  “I’ve got plenty of everything so you’re more than welcome, Carol,” he eagerly agreed.

  Carol smiled. “I appreciate the offer, and I gladly accept.”

  A few minutes later, Carol and Phil had been introduced, and everyone was seated at the picnic table. Glen said the blessing, then passed the plate of barbecued chicken to his guests.

  ❧

  Sinda bit into a juicy drumstick and smacked her lips. “Umm. . . this is delicious.”

  “Dad can cook just about anything and make it taste great,” Tara put in.

  “He certainly did a good job with this,” Carol agreed. “Everything from the potato salad to the baked beans tastes wonderful.” She giggled and poked Sinda in the ribs with her elbow. “Don’t look any deeper, ’cau
se this one’s a keeper.”

  Sinda smiled and nodded. She couldn’t agree more.

  “Dad, where’s the mustard?”

  “Oops, I must have forgotten to set it out. Guess you’ll have to run inside and get the bottle out of the refrigerator.”

  Tara’s frown deepened. “How come I always have to do everything?”

  “You don’t have to do everything, Tara.” Glen pointed toward the house.

  Sinda jumped up. “I’ll get the mustard.”

  “That’s not necessary, Sinda,” Glen said quickly.

  Sinda held up hand. “It’s okay. I’m happy to go.”

  Once inside the house, Sinda went immediately to the kitchen and retrieved a squeeze bottle of mustard from the refrigerator. At least there aren’t any doll parts in here, she thought ruefully. She closed the door and moved over to the window that overlooked the backyard. She didn’t see Glen sitting beside Tara anymore and figured he’d probably gone back to the barbecue for more meat. Much to her surprise, Carol had moved from her spot and was now seated beside Phil.

  Sinda smiled. “Maybe Phil’s found another interest. That should take some of the pressure off me. Guess Carol showing up was a good thing.”

  “You’re right, it was. Now I don’t have to share you with my woman-crazy brother for the rest of the day.”

  Sinda whirled around at the sound of Glen’s voice. She clasped her hand against her mouth. “Glen, I didn’t hear you come in!”

  He grinned, and her heart skipped a beat. “I thought you might need help finding the ketchup.”

  “It’s mustard,” she said, holding up the bottle.

  “Oh, right.” Glen moved slowly toward her, and Sinda could hear the echo of her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

  Glen bent his head to kiss her, and she melted into his embrace. “I want to marry you, Sinda Shull,” he murmured.

  She licked her lips and offered him a faint smile. “I–I–don’t know what to say, Glen.”