Come and Talk to Me

by June Kramin

  Reggie stared blankly at the map, having no idea about one town or another. Having no desire to aim for a large city like Denver or Colorado Springs, she turned on a simple county road.

  About an hour after driving past a sign that said to turn for Pike’s Peak, she found herself lost. She decided she couldn’t be lost if she didn’t know where she was going, so she threw the map into the back seat and continued down the dirt road. Eventually she came to a paved road again and followed it into a very small, very quaint town. A few people milled around on the streets, in and out of shops that made Reggie laugh a Minnesota phrase she thought she’d never use in a million years.

  “Oh, for cute!”

  There was a store called ‘The Little County Cottage’ that was a quilting shop. Next to that was a craft shop that looked like a large version of a little girl’s playhouse. She squealed when she drove by an old-fashioned malt shop then decided to pull over to get something to eat. It was as if she stepped into a fantasy land, not at all like she was lost in a town she didn’t even know the name of.

  Sitting in a booth, she people-watched while she ate a cheeseburger, fries and vanilla shake that the friendly waitress highly recommended. Reggie enjoyed the banter of the men and giggled softly as she strained to listen to the women gossiping. It was like one of those small towns you see on TV. If you didn’t know what you were doing, at least your neighbor did.

  On the placemat was a cartoon map of the town with various ads and coupons from the local businesses. It showed a lake nearby. This was too perfect. Propped behind the napkin container was a real estate flyer. Picking it up, she flipped through it with great optimism. One place in particular caught her eye instantly. It was a small two-bedroom place fifteen miles from town and listed as newly remodeled, furnished, and available for immediate possession. She paid her bill and walked over to the real estate broker’s office that, as fate had it, was right across the street.

  An hour later, she was beaming ear to ear as she walked through the house. It was perfect. Included in the asking price was twenty acres of property. The realtor pointed out that her closest neighbor was about a quarter of a mile away.

  “If it were light out, you could see it off in the distance.” She pointed out the West window. “Nice fellow. I don’t see him in town a lot, though,” she added as if she was expected to reveal his background as part of the service.

  They walked back to their cars, Reggie deep in thought. She knew she shouldn’t be so rash about a decision like this. Common sense told her to ask where she could get a hotel room and sleep on the idea for a day or two. She needed to think on it, come back in the morning, look at it again, and wander around the property. Instead, she said, “When can I sign?”

  “Pardon? My, my we sure move fast. We can go back to the office now and you can sign a purchase agreement, then we have to deal with the financing.”

  “I’ll be paying cash.” Reggie reached in her purse and showed the realtor the check for two hundred thousand dollars.

  “And you’ll have a little to spare.” The realtor smiled with wide eyes at the sight of the dollar figure. “I’ll meet you in the bank at eight sharp, as soon as Pete gets it open. We’ll get you settled in here right away.”

  Reggie loved that the realtor referred to someone at the bank by his first name. She adored the casualness and knew she’d grow to love the town. The realtor led them to the vehicles, but Reggie said she wanted to sit on the lanai for a while, if that was okay with her. When the realtor tilted her head, Reggie laughed and said, “Sorry, the porch.” Old habits die hard.

  Until that moment, Reggie didn’t know that she’d ever be able to cash that check. She didn’t want to accept payment for Van’s death. In her mind, that wasn’t something to be rewarded for. Alex talked to her on several occasions about Van going with a higher premium, wanting to know she would be taken care of if anything happened to him. It didn’t matter, it still didn’t seem right. The company had called her several times over the last few months. They would inquire as to why she hadn’t cashed it and encourage her to do so. She started hanging up on them and eventually stopped taking the calls altogether. Thinking of the house as one last gift from him, knowing it was what he would have wanted for her, was the only way she could accept it. Ideally, it’s what they would have done together, but she had finally come to accept the fact that he was gone forever. She thought long and hard before she slipped her wedding ring off her finger.

  ~*~

  “Let me be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood. The name’s Ben. Benjamin Bentley at your service,” the man said with an outstretched hand.

  “Hi.” Reggie reluctantly returned the handshake. She was carrying her few possessions into her new home when she was startled by the voice. She was supposed to have only the one neighbor; apparently he noticed her car already and came right over out of curiosity. He looked about twenty-five. The top of Reggie’s head didn’t even reach his very broad shoulders.

  “You are…” he asked.

  “Sorry, Reggie.”

  “Reggie? Never met a girl named Reggie before.”

  “Regina. Regina Kimball. I prefer Reggie.”

  “Reggie it is.” He flashed a smile that would have made her knees go weak, had she been interested. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “I’m almost done. Thanks, though.” She picked up a box and walked toward the house. She turned around. “Nice to meet…” Before she said ‘you,’ he was right on her heels, carrying a box.

  “Just tell me where to drop it.” He rushed to get ahead of her to hold the door open.

  “Thanks, right there is fine.” She pointed by his feet. After putting the box down, he looked around the room with his hands in his back pockets.

  “They sure have cleaned this place up nice. I haven’t gotten over to take a peek.”

  “I didn’t see it before the remodel, so I couldn’t say.” Reggie stood by the door, hoping he’d get the hint to leave.

  “It’s great that they left the furniture. We made it to fit the space. It wouldn’t have been right trying to put it anywhere else.”

  “You helped make the furniture?”

  “Doc and I spent a lot of weekends in my shop. He insisted on helping with it. Things moved a lot slower, but he enjoyed it.”

  “It is very nice. I’m glad it was left, too. I didn’t move very much with me.” She hadn’t intended to get so chatty with him. He was friendly enough; she just didn’t want company. She especially didn’t want a young, handsome man in Van’s house…a very handsome man. You could easily get lost in his green eyes. His wavy brown hair looked perfect, although he probably only ran his fingers through it for styling.

  “I like all the woodwork stripped. I’d been telling Old Doc Banker to let me do it for him for years. They were great neighbors. Being this far out from everything, you tend to rely on each other for things.”

  “I’m pretty self-sufficient.” She wished he’d leave and remained standing by the door, holding it open.

  “I’m sure you are,” he said with a grin.

  “I’m sorry, but I really have a lot of work to do.”

  “I thought you were almost finished?”

  “I meant, bringing everything in. I still have a lot to do inside and I’d like to get started.”

  He frowned. “But you don’t want any help?”

  “No, thank you.” She said it as politely as she could muster. “I’d like to take my time to get things set up.”

  He looked over at the few boxes and three suitcases. “You have a moving truck showing up later? ’Cause I can come back if you’d like.”

  “I left…my home with very little.” She didn’t know why she didn’t even want to tell him she had come from Minnesota. He was nice enough; she just didn’t want a nosy neighbor coming over all the time because he was bored or missed the last owner and his playmate. Hoping he worked long hours and his job kept him away for days at a time was probab
ly too much to ask. She picked this place for its isolation; maybe she should have waited a day before buying it. “I’ll have to run to town later and get some things, too. I didn’t bring much with me. I don’t want to be rude, but I have work to do, Mr. Bentley.”

  “Call me Ben, Reggie.”

  “Fine. Thanks again for your help.” She stayed leaning on the door.

  Finally, he took the hint. “Just holler if you need anything at all.”

  “Thanks. I will.” She had no intentions of doing so. Closing the door, she leaned against it with a heavy sigh. Dammit.

  ~*~

  Reggie put away her clothes in little more than an hour. She stood in the walk-in closet, staring at her humble wardrobe, deciding she would need to do a little shopping to add to it. Her work uniform for far too many years consisted of jeans and work-related t-shirts. She wanted to get herself a few nice things and maybe get some more sundresses, like she used to wear on her days off in Hawaii. Colorado would bring more warm days than Minnesota had to offer. She found herself beginning to get excited for a fresh start again. A new pair of shoes would pick any girl’s spirits up.

  After unpacking the few knick-knacks she had spared from the box of donations and placed a few pictures of her and Van over the fireplace, she headed into town to buy kitchen items. A large local hardware store had everything she needed. She bought glasses and coffee mugs, dishes and silverware, pots and pans, and a few glass baking dishes. Of course, the manager and sales girl wanted to know everything about her, no doubt to rush to the fountain shop and tell everyone about the new girl who moved to town but oddly, she didn’t mind. Reggie was pleasant, but kept her explanations simple. Moving here from Minnesota to get away from the cold was all she offered for information.

  It was getting dark when she arrived back home. Tired from the day, she sat out back with a glass of wine and enjoyed the sounds of the night. After almost an hour of crickets and owls, a loud “Yahoo!” made her jump. That was followed by a splash. She found a flashlight and headed down the trail in search of the source of the sound. The realtor told her there was a pond a little way down the trail, but she hadn’t taken the time to go hunt for it yet. Hearing the splash again, she knew she was close. She finally came to a clearing and found it. For the size it was, she would have called this a lake, not a pond.

  The way the water shimmered in the moonlight, it had to be a fresh lake from a spring and not a stinky, stagnant pond. She suddenly found the source of the ‘yahoo’ she heard earlier. She should have known. It was Ben. There was a large tree off to the side with a rope swing.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” he said as he waved. “I see you found our little pond.”

  “Our pond?”

  “We kinda share it. Didn’t the realtor go over the property lines with you?”

  “I didn’t ask. They said I’d get a plot book in the mail in a couple weeks.” She walked a few steps closer, looked over the size of the lake some more. “I may just be a female and all, but I would call this a lake.”

  “It keeps the property taxes down if we say ‘pond.’ Why don’t you join me for a swim?”

  “I don’t think I packed a swimsuit,” she lied.

  He had swum over to her and was standing chest high in the water. “It didn’t stop me from jumping in,” he said as he stepped closer. The water reached well below his naval before she shouted.

  “Stop! I’ll take your word for it!”

  He laughed. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’re going to like what you see?”

  “No. I’m afraid the water is cold and I’ll have to point and laugh.”

  He laughed harder. “You are a real ball-buster, aren’t you?”

  “You just keep your pants on and keep to your side of the proverbial fence and we’ll be fine neighbors.” She turned to walk away. “Good night, Mr. Bentley.”

  “Wait a second.” She stopped, but didn’t turn back around, afraid he might have stepped out of the water. “Throw me my towel. I’ll walk you back.”

  “I can find my way back, thanks.” She took another step.

  He called out as she took another step. “Stop, Reggie. I’m serious. There’s been a mountain lion hanging around for the past couple of nights. Let me walk you back.”

  “A mountain lion?”

  “Throw me my towel, unless you want me to—”

  “I’ll get it.” She found his towel, took a few steps backward, and tossed it to him. He wrapped it around his waist and joined her on the shore.

  He walked over to her and held her shoulders. “And would you please call me Ben?” She had no response to that. He dropped his hands, walked over and picked up a shotgun that was propped up against a tree. “Do you have a gun?”

  “No.” She had gotten rid of her gun before she left Maui and all of Van’s guns after his funeral. She didn’t want them. It was one more thing to remind her of him and one more way to think about how she had almost lost him.

  “You should get one. I can teach you how to shoot, if you’d like.” He held her elbow as he walked back toward her house.

  “I know how to shoot. I’m pretty good actually. I just don’t like guns.” She shook her arm free.

  “You should get one anyway. You never know what will pop out at you here. I had to shoot a ’coon that looked like it had rabies last week.”

  “Rabies?”

  “I took it in. They tested it and it was negative, but it was sure actin’ crazy.”

  “I couldn’t shoot a living creature.”

  “Then you’ll have to keep my number handy, won’t you?”

  She sighed heavily. “Why would you risk getting attacked just to go for a late night swim?”

  “Because until you’ve tried it, you’ll never get it.” They reached her back porch. “Besides,” he said as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I lied about the mountain lion. I just wanted to walk you home. Good night, Reggie.”

  She was furious, but she wasn’t going to let him know it. Not shouting obscenities at him as he walked away killed her, but she wasn’t going to let him know how much he upset her. He wasn’t going to win this round. It took a little more effort not to slam her door, but she caught herself in time. Still fuming, she poured herself another glass of wine. She swirled the red liquid in the glass as she tried to devise a plan. It was a toss-up whether or not to try even harder to avoid him or find a way to get even. It should have been a no-brainer which one was going to win.

  ~*~

  The next morning Reggie drove to town to stock up better with groceries. The house had a wonderful walk-in pantry and chest freezer to fill up. She could easily avoid going to town for two weeks at a time, longer if she could do without milk, fresh fruits and veggies. Without Van to cook for, her meals had become very simple. She usually skipped breakfast and just had coffee. Lunch was mostly grazing here and there on whatever she had handy and she usually threw a salad together at dinner with some grilled chicken or made a single helping of pasta.

  Other than the grocery store, she did have one other destination in mind. There was no sporting goods store in town, but the hardware store had a modest selection of guns. The manager didn’t hide being leery about her at first, but she assured him that she knew how to use one and had completed a safety course. That wasn’t a lie.

  Before moving to Maui, Reggie had purchased a small handgun for personal reasons. She never wanted to have to use it, but she had it in her nightstand at home just the same. Troy had taken her and Bri to the range often; they were both very good. As far as shotguns went, she wasn’t comfortable with anything bigger than a twenty gauge. She didn’t see the need for anything bigger anyway but after looking them over, she chose a handgun. When she asked for the Smith & Wesson Model 22, the manager grinned.

  “You like the classics?”

  “I used to have one like it.”

  “I like a lady who knows her guns.” He reached for it then the ammunition.

  She really
couldn’t point out a Colt from a Glock, but she was familiar with the one gun and thought it would be best to stick with what she knew. She wasn’t about to correct the manager since he thought she knew more than she actually did. Accepting the gun, she hoped he wouldn’t try to talk guns with her any further.

  They went outside and she shot a few rounds at a target. The manager commented on her skill as they shook hands goodbye.

  That night before sunset, she lay flat in some bushes by her house and waited. It didn’t take long to hear someone crunching in the path. When Ben finally approached, she fired at a tree a few feet away from him. She expected him to jump or holler in fear; he did neither. He barely flinched, but he did stop in his tracks.

  “Gordon said you picked up a gun. I’m glad you took my advice; I just didn’t think you use it on me.”

  Fuming, she stood up, refusing to let Ben see her frustration. “Is that you, Ben? I was afraid you were a mountain lion.” Casually, she brushed herself off.

  “You really should be careful. You could have hit me if you were any good.”

  “I have great aim. I already told you I couldn’t shoot a living creature. Fortunately for you, you still manage to fall slightly in that category.” She turned to walk toward her porch.

  “Bet you dinner I have better aim.”

  “I don’t partake in the manly ritual of a challenge, Mr. Bentley. As a matter of fact, call me a chicken and see if it matters.”

  “Are you chicken? And I keep telling you to call me Ben.”

  “I’m only chicken that I won’t have enough restraint not to shoot off one of your more favorite parts if you don’t start keeping your distance. I moved here to get some peace and quiet.”