The Neighbor Wars

by Jenna Gunn

“Uh.” I hadn’t thought about that; I just like red wine. “Just water for now, then, I guess.”

  The waiter nods and heads off; Nathan begins to point out dishes on the menu that would pair well with red wine. I just nod along.

  Perry probably wouldn’t act like this on a date.

  I blink, chiding myself. Perry and I had a one-night stand, and that’s it. He kicked me out afterward, even. There will not be any dates with Perry. Plus, Nathan is just trying to help, bossy as he may sound.

  I settle on a very Italian-sounding dish with meatballs and sauce, and Nathan assures me he’ll order the “correct” wine to go with it. I don’t think he gets out very often.

  The waiter comes back and takes Nathan’s order.

  “And for the lady?” the waiter asks.

  “She’ll have a glass of your finest red zinfandel,” Nathan begins, and then rattles off the rest of my order.

  I just stare across the table at him. I expected him to order the wine, but not my food, too. No one’s ordered for me at a restaurant since I was a literal child. I watch as he takes a sip of his water, looking pleased with himself.

  I’ll let it slide this time. But this gives me a weird feeling.

  The food, when it comes, is good, and so is the wine. Nathan tries to order me another glass, but I decline - I don’t want to get buzzed. He looks disappointed that I don’t follow his lead.

  We catch a late movie after dinner. Nathan uses the dark as an opportunity to grab my hand and hold onto it, and I don’t protest. His hand is large and warm; it feels nice.

  But I can’t stop thinking about Perry’s rough hands sliding over my body.

  10

  I wake up in my own bed, in my un-sexy oversized T-shirt I wear as pajamas. Which is exactly what I wanted.

  I was happy to get home too. Something about the way Nathan acted at dinner made me not want to spend a minute more of time with him. I wanted to head home after dinner. The movie and talking with him on the drive home were an added, unwanted burden. Maybe it’s his nerves or something, but I didn’t like the bossiness.

  I hear a bark outside.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I swing my legs over the side of my bed and struggle to my feet, yawning. If Apple is outside, I’m going to be so pissed. I throw on my bathrobe and head to my front door.

  Sure enough, Apple is on my front porch, barking at my door while her tail wags behind her. Her collar is nowhere to be seen.

  I open the door. “Come on in,” I sigh, and she rockets down my hallway. Thankfully, she’s not covered in mud this time, but she shouldn’t be here at all. How does she keep getting out? Why isn’t Perry keeping a closer eye on her?

  I get dressed. Every movement I make is a little too forceful. I really am pissed - how is he so irresponsible? What if Apple had gotten hit by a car or something? I yank my jeans over my thighs. Leg or no leg, how hard is it to close your damn doors?

  Fully dressed, I head out into my living room to find Apple chasing her tail. “Apple!” I call for her; she stops and bounds toward me. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  Her tail wags even harder; I’ve got plenty of collars and leashes lying around, so I slip a collar around her neck and clip a leash to it. How hard is this? Not hard at all. Why can’t Perry just do it?

  Apple is excited but well-behaved in the car on the way to Perry’s. She presses her nose to the window, wags her tail. When I roll the window down for her, she sticks her whole head out and lets her tongue loll out of her mouth.

  I pull into the driveway; a light flicks on in one of the windows as my tires crunch over the gravel.

  I’ve had plenty of time to stew in my anger on the way here. I’m angry that Perrys let his dog get out again, and that I’m the one who has to deal with it. I’m ruffled by what happened that morning after sex. I’m angry that it’s somehow my fault that I was caught off guard by his missing leg. I’m angry that I couldn’t stop thinking of him when I was on a date with Nathan. I’m angry that every time I try to fall asleep I think about that night in bed with him.

  I stomp my way up his porch steps with Apple trotting placidly next to me; I bang on the door without even looking for a doorbell. The door handle turns, and the door opens.

  “What the hell Perry” I burst out. “Your dog ended up on my porch again.”

  “I - ”

  “Are you that irresponsible?” I growl, my voice rising. “This is the second time and you’ve barely been here a week! If you can’t watch your dog properly, then you shouldn’t even have one!”

  He purses his lips. Raises an eyebrow. He looks sexy as hell. Which pisses me off more. I notice he’s wearing a t-shirt that shows off his very nice arms. I cut my eyes back to his.

  “Trisha.” He says. Just one word. It reminds me of him saying my name when we were in bed. A cocky grin appears on his lips, “wanna come in?”

  I glare at him but I feel heat sizzle in my belly. I know I gotta get out of here fast.

  “If you can’t watch her, give her to someone who does,” I spin on my heel and march my way back down his porch steps and to my car.

  I realize as I’m doing this that I’m a total ass.

  Perry doesn’t say another word. He just stands in the doorway, watching me as I back out of his driveway. He hardly defended himself.

  Whatever. I need to stop thinking about him. I stomp on the gas and take off down the empty road.

  My knuckles are still white as I clutch the wheel when my cell phone rings; I glance at it briefly, hoping it’s not Perry, which it thankfully isn’t.

  It’s my best friend.

  I answer the phone and cradle it between my ear and shoulder as I turn into my own driveway. “Raina? What’s up?” I ask.

  “Trisha!”

  I grin. I haven’t heard from her in a while. I park my car and turn the engine off. “What’s up with you?” I ask again.

  “Just wanted to let you know something,” she says breezily. Her voice is just as breathy as I remember. “You should expect to get an invitation in the mail.”

  “An invitation?” I laugh, fumbling with my keys. “For what?”

  “For my wedding.”

  I drop my keys in shock; they make a hard clunk against my wooden porch. “Alex finally popped the question?”

  “He did!” she shrieks, so loud my ear starts ringing - but I don’t care.

  “Oh my God!” I laugh. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” I smirk as I lean against the porch rail; I remember when Raina first met Alex. She didn’t realize how much she liked him, and I helped her realize just how stupid she was being.

  “I also wanted to ask you something.”

  “You got a vet-related question?” I bend to pick up my keys. “Monroe and Carmen doing okay?”

  “My cats are just fine,” she laughs. “It’s not vet-related.”

  “Okay. Shoot.” I unlock my door and push it open, kicking my shoes off as soon as I walk in.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to be my maid of honor.”

  I almost drop my phone. Perry, Apple, my anger, all of it’s forgotten. “Me?” I ask quietly. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “I don’t know who else I would ever consider, Trisha. I’d love for you to be my maid of honor.”

  “Of course,” I breathe. “I mean - yes! Hell yes! I can’t wait! I’m going to throw you the best bachelorette party you’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m holding you to that,” Raina replies with a laugh. “You’ve got to come with me to pick out the bridesmaid dresses. And my wedding dress, of course.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell her. “You going shopping in Charleston?”

  “I already have an appointment in about a week,” Raina gushes. She squeals with excitement. “I’m getting married!”

  I flop down on my couch. “Tell me everything.”

  She starts with Alex’s proposal, and tho
ugh I’m listening, I feel something pushing at the back of my mind - the image of Perry’s resigned face as I yelled at him on his porch.

  11

  “Who the hell does she think she is?” I say to nobody in particular.

  Apple lifts her head from her paws and wags her tail. She watches me pace with my awkward, limping gait across the living room.

  “Saying I’m irresponsible,” I mutter. I turn and look at Apple, who’s still watching me with her ears perked up. “You’re a good girl, Apple.”

  I should just write off that one-night stand, forget it even happened. I should try to erase the memory of her red hair tumbling down her back as she climbed on top of me - and this is not helping. But I saw her look at me like she wants me this morning.

  I’m grateful that she brought Apple back to me, and that she chipped Apple for free, but I’m swearing her off. If Apple needs checkups or shots - or anything else that isn’t an emergency - I’m driving up to Charleston. And I guess that asking Trisha about leads for buying chickens is out.

  “That’s fine,” I grumble to myself as I head for my computer. My desk is shoved against one wall in the dining room, since I don’t have a dining table. “I’ll look myself, Apple. How about that?”

  Apple looks up at me when I mention her name; when I sit in my desk chair, she picks up one of her bones and trots over to me, lying at my feet.

  “You’re such a good girl,” I tell her warmly. Her tail thumps against the ground in response.

  I open up one of those classified-ads type sites. I might have to drive a long ways to pick up some chickens, but that’s all right. I want to get started as soon as I can.

  To my surprise, a local small farmer is selling off some baby chicks. I scroll through his pictures of the chicks. He’s also selling some equipment - chicken wire, some feed, a pen. It’s perfect. I shoot him an email, and he responds with his phone number, saying he’d rather discuss it over the phone.

  I shrug and dial the number.

  “Parker Farms,” says the voice on the phone.

  “Mr. Parker?” I ask. “I’m Perry Logan, you emailed me your number. I’m calling about the baby chicks.”

  The man laughs. “Mr. Parker’s unnecessary. Just call me Nathan.”

  “Oh - right. Uh...so about the chickens?”

  Parker Farms isn’t too far away; I come upon it much sooner than I expect and almost overshoot the driveway. On a wide, flat piece of land sits a house and a barn. A man waves at me from the front yard as I pull up.

  I kill the engine and open the car door, feeling a tingle of irrational fear. I’m alone with a strange man. I glance around the farm, my eyes lighting on nearby things to use as weapons - and then I screw my eyes shut, trying to clear my head. I’m not in the field anymore; I don’t need to plan escape routes.

  “You must be Mr. Logan!” The man juts his hand toward me as I get out and Apple follows. I take his hand; his grip is strong. “Nathan Parker.”

  “Call me Perry,” I tell him. I tug on Apple’s leash so she doesn’t go running off after some chickens.

  “Perry,” Nathan repeats, smiling. It’s an odd smile. Something feels off about it, but I can’t put my finger on it. “The baby chicks are this way.”

  I tug Apple with me to follow him toward the barn.

  “What are you gonna be using the chickens for?” Nathan asks over his shoulder.

  “Uh, I kinda want to have a little hobby farm. So laying eggs, mostly.”

  “Just for you?” he asks. “Or are you going to sell the eggs?” He pauses to throw open the barn doors.

  “Just for me.”

  “You know how to take care of egg layers? It’s different from meat chickens.”

  “I’ve done my research.” I can already hear the cheeping of baby chicks; I get a thrill of excitement. I’m actually about to start this.

  “You familiar with Rhode Island reds?” He takes me to a metal tub. I peek over the side; there’s at least ten little baby chicks hopping around on wood shavings.

  “That’s the breed I was hoping for, honestly.”

  “Well good! Because that’s what I’ve got.” He reaches in and scoops up a chick, then plops it into my hands. I scramble to make sure I hold it correctly. “Go ahead and check ’em out.”

  “Why are you selling them?” I ask, looking down at the little baby in my hands. It fluffs its feathers and pecks at my thumb inquisitively.

  “Can’t support a big chicken population.” He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. Like this, he doesn’t look like the farming type; he looks more like a model in a farm-themed photoshoot. “Gotta get rid of some. And I’ve got some equipment I can sell you, too.”

  “I’ll definitely take the chicks.” I gently set the baby back down in the metal tub. Nathan shows me the equipment he has for sale - the tub, some bags full of wood shavings, a full bag of chicken feed, chicken wire, and a heat lamp - and I buy it all. He helps me load it up into my car, which is quite a feat, as I barely have enough room for the tub in the backseat.

  “Might wanna invest in a pickup truck,” Nathan laughs.

  “Yeah, seems like it.” I grin and dust my hands off. “Well, thanks very much, Nate.”

  “Don’t call me that!” he snaps suddenly, almost yelling.

  My muscles clench; Apple growls beside me as I turn toward Nathan, my arms coming up, ready to fight. It’s a knee-jerk reaction - I feel the slightest bit of fear, and I’m ready to defend myself.

  Nathan’s face is screwed into a scowl so opposite from his earlier demeanor that I’m confused, almost scared; but his face relaxes, and he pushes his hands to his face. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just - really don’t like being called that.”

  “No reason to get all pissy about it,” I growl at him. I lower my hands to my sides, but I don’t stop watching him. I stay alert.

  He shakes his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry. Bad memories.”

  I want to feel sorry for him - more than anyone, I know the effect bad memories can have - but something about his expression makes me think he’s not telling the truth. Part of me believes that he just really doesn’t like being called Nate, and he’ll fight someone over it.

  I don’t believe he’s sorry, either.

  “Well - thanks for the chicks and the equipment. I’ll be going now.” I open my driver’s side door and let Apple jump in first.

  Nathan nods and steps back, his smile plastered back on his face. “Take good care of ’em!” he calls cheerily.

  I back out of his driveway, and he waves as I leave; but just before he turns to head back into his house, his face falls into that angry, hostile expression he wore earlier.

  “That guy’s a total whackadoo,” I say to Apple.

  She wags her tail.

  12

  It’s been a while since I went on that date with Nathan, but we’ve been in touch.

  I do regular checkups on his pregnant sow. He always finds some way to touch me, to tease me with some double entendre. But I’ve avoided anything more. Today, I’m in a good mood as I pull into his driveway; he comes rushing out of the barn with a huge grin.

  “Heya,” he says as I get out of my car.

  “Hey yourself,” I say back, grinning.

  “Come to look at my animals, or me?” he asks.

  I laugh and saunter up to him. “I’m just doing my job, sir. But you’re definitely a perk.”

  He leans down to brush his lips against my ear. “I can perk you up tonight, if you like,” he says, his voice low.

  A pleasant shiver runs down my spine. “Just show me your pregnant pig,” I laugh, pushing against his chest. I’m still not sure about getting involved with him; I’ve been avoiding it. He’s cute, sure, and the flirting has been nice. But there’s something about how pushy he is about it that makes me balk at the idea.

  I walk into the barn to check up on Teacup and immediately notice the absence of the high-pitched cheeping of chicks in t
he big metal tub. In fact, the tub itself is gone.

  “What happened to the babies?” I ask. For some reason, my stomach drops. I don’t know why, but I worry that he’s killed them.

  “Sold ’em!” Nathan replies cheerfully.

  The pit in my stomach disappears.

  “Yeah, I put out an ad, and a couple days ago a guy emailed me. Sold the chicks to him that day.”

  “That’s a relief.” I step into the pen with Teacup, who happily trudges her way over to me. “A big chicken population isn’t great for you right now.”

  “Yeah, you’re telling me,” Nathan sighs. He leans against the wall and watches me check over his pig.

  “Did you know the guy? Was he local?”

  “He said he’s local, but I didn’t recognize him.” He shifts his weight to his other foot. “He had a fake leg. He said his name was Perry.”

  For the second time today, my stomach drops. “Perry Logan?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that’s him. You know him?”

  “I’ve - I chipped his dog.” Why do I feel so weird just hearing his name? What’s wrong with me? “Apple.”

  “He had a dog with him,” Nathan replies. “Some kind of mutt, I think.”

  When I don’t answer, I feel Nathan’s eyes on me. I silently continue my work on Teacup.

  “What’s wrong?” Nathan asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re not telling me something.” His voice is getting harder around the edges. “What is it?”

  “It’s nothing, really.” I finish up and stand, dusting myself off.

  “You know him other than just treating his dog,” Nathan snaps. “I can tell.”

  “Look, Nathan, I really don’t want to talk about it. Do you have any other animals you want me to take a look at?”

  His eyes narrow at me; he takes a step closer. “What happened?” he asks. His voice is low, almost threatening. “Did you do something with him? How do you know him?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, actually,” I say crisply.