“Hey, what about that! A.J., just like me. I bet you got that a lot growing up.”
It takes me a minute to respond, because I’m glancing behind her to see if she’s dragging a vacuum. Or cleaning products.
“Nope, not once.”
“Oh.” She shrugs but doesn’t dwell on the idea, and smiles as she pulls off her gloves. “Jake talks about you and Bailey a lot.”
The name-dropping of my baby girl again gives me a slight chill, until I start placing two and two together. Hot chocolate Annie?
She begins unbuttoning her coat, which is sky blue and hangs to her knees, and I can’t help but notice a sparkle when she pulls the sleeve from her arm. The ring on her right hand contains a stone that is a deeper blue, almost shimmering purple, offset by what look like diamonds. It’s probably worth more than my car.
Not exactly what I had pictured, but maybe Jake’s looking to improve his lot in life.
“You’re the Annie that’s dating Jake?”
“Dating Jake?” She drapes the coat over her arm and shakes her curls vigorously. “How funny! I have no idea where you got that idea. Not that I didn’t try flirting with him at first, because he’s such a doll, but the man is like a wall of steel. Can’t break through the fortress.”
Jake, a wall of steel? Give me a break.
“How do you know Jake?” It seems like an innocuous question, but the answer may determine whether the hair on the back of my neck continues to stand on end or settles itself down.
“He’s been doing work on Harley’s house.”
Right—beautiful news reporter.
“And,” she continues, handing me her coat, “before you ask, he’s not dating her either. She has a boyfriend, but even if she didn’t, the man won’t even smile sideways at us. He’s all business.”
My eyes focus on the blue fabric in my hands, so soft that I wish I could run my hand across it, but I can’t do so in front of my nutty houseguest.
“What are you doing here exactly?”
Probably not the nicest thing I’ve ever said to a stranger, but she laughs it off as though it doesn’t bother her at all.
“Just a friendly neighbor-to-neighbor visit. Since we’re going to be running into each other from time to time— presumably, anyway, once the weather’s nicer—I thought we should get acquainted. Don’t you have southern hospitality and all that jazz down south?”
“Down south?” My voice raises a little at the end of the word, making me sound like I’m almost unhinged. Perhaps she’s not the only nutty one in the room. “I don’t really think of where we lived as down south.”
“Well, south of Louisville is south, as far as I’m concerned.”
I sense that she’s not leaving anytime soon, so I drape her coat over the back of the couch and lower myself beside it. She doesn’t hesitate to cross the room and sit next to me, turning herself slightly so she’s facing me. She even folds one of her legs partially under her on the cushion as she gets herself comfortable, causing one of her pink-sequined tennis shoes to sparkle as it dangles above the carpet.
“I would say welcome to Wonder Lane, but technically I became Harley’s roommate after you moved in. So you really should welcome me, in that case. I’ll let you off the hook, though.”
It’s like being hit with a runaway conversation train. And I can’t figure out how to get off the tracks.
“Thanks, I think.”
“What brought you to Louisville? Jake says you moved here for a job?”
Her intense scrutiny makes me wonder if my hair’s out of place. After all, I was having a mini tantrum right before she came through the door. “Um, yeah. I teach high school algebra.” I slide my hand up to push my hair behind my ear, casually making a momentary ponytail with my hands to make sure I don’t have any stragglers.
“So you’re practically a rocket scientist,” she states, actually looking semi-impressed.
It might have been a silly statement, but it gives me a teensy boost of confidence. Smoothing down my hair, I calmly place my hands in my lap.
“More like a zookeeper, most days.”
She widens her eyes a bit as she stares at me. “Wow. Static.”
Static? What is that, one of those new cool person catchphrases? And to think I haven’t even heard it at school yet.
“Hmm, yeah. Completely static,” I say with a nod, hopefully agreeing to something pleasant.
“Girl, I’m serious about the static. It’s like full-out science experiment up in here. Balloon to the head static.”
“Totally,” I breathe right before I sense it. At first it’s just a slight tickle against my cheek, but then it turns into a tingling sensation all over my scalp. “It’s me, right? I have static?”
“Massive.” She giggles as she bends down to dig through her Coach handbag. “I’ve got the perfect thing, though.” Pulling a purple travel-sized bottle to her knee, she suddenly turns serious. “Carrying hair product in your bag is a necessity when you rock a ‘do like mine. May I?”
There it is…she’s selling hair products.
“Sure.”
She wastes no time, spraying some of whatever-it-is into her palms. It only dawns on me as she’s rubbing her hand across my head that it might be a little weird for a relative stranger to be practically petting me.
“Are you a hairdresser?” I pose the question more to ease my discomfort than to begin the expected spiel about her wondrous hair products.
“Nope. I own an upscale resale shop, The Revolving Closet. You should come by sometime. I’ll hook you up.”
Pure instinct forces me to glance down at my department store special jeans, complete with the frayed ends from excessive wear and the occasional trampling by my tennis shoes. Upscale, me? Obviously I don’t even pay to have my jeans hemmed.
And I’m sure she’s mighty impressed with my Indians T-shirt that boasts the year I graduated from high school. Pure class on display right here.
My phone begins singing “Picture to Burn” by Taylor Swift, and I jerk it off the coffee table wishing I had put it on silent. That fleeting thought is replaced quickly with a sense of dread.
“Sorry, it’s Jake,” I explain to Annie, drawing it up to my ear.
It took me a while to let my guard down enough to let him take her out of the house, so of course the instant I do, I get the phone call. My heart squeezes a little in my chest as I think about what might have happened.
“Jake? Please tell me Bailey’s okay.”
“What? Yeah, of course.”
“Does she want to come home?”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say no.” He hesitates a second and I can hear screaming in the background. Happy screaming, though…not blood curdling screaming. “She finished her hamburger with nothing on it and would love to join the screeching pack of kids, but she’s wearing Cinderella socks.”
“Right. She knows she has to wear socks.”
“Yep, she’s given me the mom lecture already. Kudos for drilling it into her head like that. I guess you want me to buy her some, then?”
“What?” I rise from the couch and begin pacing across the floor, sidestepping Annie’s fancy purse in the process.
“I’m assuming you don’t want her to get these Cinderella socks dirty. I know how you feel about dirt.”
Anxious regret courses through me as I realize he’s teasing me for trying to lick his face. We’re not in that place, after all. In order for him to be able to joke with me like that, we either have to be friends or casual flirty acquaintances. I’m still contemplating whether I can allow the former, and we’re certainly not the latter.
“I actually don’t have an aversion to dirt, as it turns out, so feel free to get as much dirt on the socks as you wish.”
“Oh. Well, I think it’s an overstatement to say that I wish her to get dirt on her socks, Cinderella or otherwise.”
“She can wear the socks. It’s fine.”
He laughs on the other end of the line, a
nd I glance over to find Annie watching me curiously. “Go on, Bailey. Your mom says the socks are good-to-go.”
“Was that all?”
“I’m not sure. You got anything else?”
It would appear that the wall of steel is collapsing on me. Or, if nothing else, Jake has suddenly decided I’m worthy of flirty banter. This isn’t going to wear well on my nerves.
“No. I have absolutely nothing.”
“Are you sure? Because it seemed like you might want to do some verbal sparring. If you’re game, I’m totally up for it.”
Reaching up, I wrap my fingers around my neck, as though it’s possible to somehow protect myself from that too-intimate tone in his voice.
“No, thank you. I have a guest.”
“You have a guest? I don’t believe you. Who is it?”
“Your friend Annie.”
“Are you giving it to her about the hot chocolate?” His voice changes to a whisper. “She uses a box, Alex. A box.”
“Just watch our daughter,” I mutter as I end the call.
The rectangular electronic device in my hand stares back at me, as though it doesn’t realize it witnessed the downward spiral of that conversation into a cesspool of smarminess.
“Everything okay?” Annie wants to know.
“Yeah.” I attempt a smile as I march back to my spot on the couch, shrugging my shoulders. “He just had a question about socks.”
She nods her head as she stands and steps over to the kitchen, where she begins rinsing the hair product off her hands. One glance over her shoulder in my direction, and I feel sure the questions are just beginning.
“So, that’s an interesting ringtone.”
“Is it?” Before I place my phone back on the coffee table, I make sure it’s set to vibrate.
“Yeah.” She turns and grabs the towel off the handle of the oven to dry her hands. “Redneck heartbreakers in pickup trucks? Sounds like a Lifetime movie waiting to be told.”
“Probably just an unimaginative ringtone chosen on a whim, in all reality.”
“You use that ringtone for your mama?”
She settles herself next to me on the couch again, and I shake my head with a sigh.
“No.”
“Then it’s interesting, that’s all. My ringtone for my ex is ‘Since You Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson. Just in case I need a reminder when he calls that I’m better off without him.”
Something about that admission causes me to relax a little, and I can’t help letting out a small laugh. “You know, I’ve never even had a picture of Jake to burn. Maybe that would have been therapeutic.”
“I have a picture of him on my phone, but you can’t burn it. The phone, I mean.”
“He sent you a picture of himself?”
“Are you kidding? That would be weird.” Annie shakes her curls as though she’s ridding herself of that thought, and then turns to stare at the TV. “I took a picture of him while he was nailing a board on the stairs. So I could show Harley the work he was doing, of course. Don’t judge me.”
I try to hide my smile behind my hand as I focus on the dancing couple on the screen in front of us.
“Mind if I watch the movie with you?” she asks without looking in my direction.
I give the requisite yes without even thinking about it, because of the deeply-ingrained mantras in my mind about being kind, loving my neighbor, and showing courtesy. It’s what my mother would do, after all. Invite the neighbors in off the street, make sure they’re warm, feed them dinner, and be certain they know they’re welcome.
Even though part of me knows I only said yes out of politeness, I can’t deny that having another adult sitting next to me on the couch is long overdue.
Around three hours pass before Jake opens the front door, allowing Bailey to barge in overflowing with energy and excitement. Annie’s shoes rest near the bottom of the couch, and she has her feet pulled up under her on the cushions. Our Gene Kelly movie ended a bit ago, but an Alfred Hitchcock mystery came on in its place.
As it turns out, Annie and I have a lot in common. Her parents are practically perfect too, and she was trying to fit into that mold for a long time. Until recently, anyway, when she broke away from a rather controlling ex-boyfriend. Now she’s embracing her freedom.
It’s kind of the same idea I had when I tried to break free from Jake, who is currently standing in my kitchen. Maybe I should have shaved half my head, too.
Bailey wraps her arms around my thighs as I rise from the couch, and I have to grab the armrest to keep from falling over. “Jay chase me up the slide. He’s a tiger and him wants to eat me.”
“Are you serious?” I shoot a surprised look at Jake for Bailey’s benefit before I grab her hand. “Let me make sure you have all your fingers. Let’s see…one, two, where’s your thumb?” She wiggles it with a big smile. “There it is. I was worried there for a minute.”
“I should probably get going,” Annie announces as she begins putting her shoes on her feet. “You’ve entertained the crazy neighbor long enough.”
“You don’t have to leave,” I tell her, wrapping my arm around Bailey’s shoulders.
“I need to turn in pretty early tonight. I’m playing bass at church tomorrow morning so I have to be there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And you know it takes forever to get this hair looking perfectly random.” She winks at Bailey as she stands up, draping her purse over her shoulder. “Jake, you going tomorrow?”
He’s still standing by the kitchen and hasn’t made a move to take off his coat. It’s Saturday night, so he probably wants to bolt. Maybe he’ll go employ his flirting on someone at one of the clubs.
“I’ll give it some thought,” he says noncommittally, offering Annie a rather crooked half grin.
“Well, don’t be a stranger. Come over for dinner one night, okay?” Annie pulls her coat from the back of the couch and slides one arm into the sleeve. “All of you. Just let me know ahead of time so I have enough food.”
Jake nods as Annie gives me a parting wave, and then she slides out the door, leaving the three of us awkwardly in her wake.
“Jay, want to see my pony?” Bailey tosses her coat toward the wall, leaving it in a heap as she trots down the hall, her fine brown hair flying around her face. Looks like I’m not the only one who has been plagued by the static monster today.
I glance at Jake, but the playfulness he had on the phone is gone. “You probably want me out of your hair,” he says.
“Don’t worry about it. You won’t hurt her feelings if you leave. I’ll make sure she understands.”
“Okay.”
His uncharacteristic hesitance causes me to have all sorts of unwelcome thoughts. Maybe he needs a friend. Maybe those couple hours with Bailey changed things. Maybe the two of us shouldn’t be in the same room together, since I obviously have some sort of stomach affliction when he’s in the vicinity.
Seriously, thank you stomach. I get it. Jake’s attractive. You don’t need to keep assaulting me.
“Or…”
Bailey bursts back into the room with the horse she got for Christmas, and he bends down to inspect it, looking at it so closely it seems he might want to buy it from her. He’s clearly figured out some of this dad business in the past month.
“You could stay,” I blurt, the volume of my words a shock even to me. Cringing, I fight to bring my voice down a notch. “If you have nowhere to be, of course. Not that you wouldn’t, because you’re you and it’s Saturday night. And I’m not implying anything unseemly by that, just casually observing the fact that you’re charming and rather good looking so you should have no problem finding company on a Saturday night. If you’re actively looking for it, which I’m in no way saying you are.”
The horse all but forgotten, he looks at me from his position kneeling next to Bailey, brows lifted slightly but no smirk or cocky expression on his face.
“You finished?”
That’s it. Am I finished, like I’m off
icially the lame dorm mom or something. Oh, look, the weird uptight girl just spewed her word vomit all over me. How peculiar.
My stomach goes on full-out revolt, like there’s an angry battle of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots going on in there.
Am I finished?
“I really hope so,” I answer quietly.
He stands up and starts to take off his coat, but pauses with it midway down his back.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Only rarely, and even then it’s touch and go.”
He smiles as he finishes removing his coat and drapes it over the back of the couch.
“Anybody ever tell you you’re funny?”
“Funny ha ha or funny needs psychiatric attention?”
“Take your pick.”
“Neither, actually. I was just stalling because something’s desperately wrong with my brain.”
He laughs as he scoops Bailey up with one arm and deposits her over the side of the couch. “What are you watching? Old movies?”
“Hitchcock. We can change it if you like.”
“Don’t change anything. I’m good.”
The instant he settles onto the couch, Bailey launches herself onto his lap and trots the pony across his chest.
“What’s the pony’s name?” Jake asks her as he protectively places his hand against her back. Pre-mom Alexis might have missed that, but now I know all the tricks for keeping her from falling off the couch, the bed, or practically any high surface.
“Jay,” she states, leaning her head on his arm.
“That’s my name.” He presses the tips of his fingers against her side until she giggles, and then he relaxes his arms around her. “You don’t want your pony to have the same name as me. What should we name it? Is it a girl or a boy?”
Bailey squints and wrinkles her nose to indicate she’s deep in thought. “Hmm. I think…a girl.”
“You were going to name a girl after me?” He drops his jaw, and Bailey showcases a huge smile.
“No, a gooder name I think. Pickles.”
“Pickles.” He repeats Bailey’s choice without even a hint of emotion.
“Yep.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Pickles.”
Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3) Page 19