The Neighbor

by Gerri Hill

  She stopped at the road when she heard the mower shut down. The woman had pulled it into the shed at the back of their property. Cassidy stared at her as she walked back toward the house. The cutoff jeans were mid-thigh, leaving plenty of leg exposed. Long legs. The woman was nearly as tall as she was. The woman—Laura Fry—disappeared behind the house and Cassidy continued back toward her gate and driveway, conscious of the smile on her face. So her new neighbor was cute. That was a plus. And, if she had to guess, she would say Laura Fry was a lesbian. Although she wasn’t particularly friendly. Maybe that was a good thing. Overly friendly, she couldn’t handle. Weekends. Quiet time. No neighbors, even if they were cute lesbians. Quiet time.

  However, loud laughter coming from the pool dispelled any notion she had of quiet time. Before going around the walkway to the back, she took the time to look at her yard. It was nice. Pristine, in fact. But sterile. No flowers. No colors. Not even any flowering shrubs, which she’d seen plenty of on her drive out. Her shrubs were all uniform and perfectly placed. She nodded. She needed some flowerbeds. She needed some color.

  * * *

  “I saw you talking to the neighbor. She looked younger than I imagined.”

  Laura lifted the lid on the slow cooker and tested the roast with a fork. Another two hours ought to do it.

  “Fortyish,” she replied.

  “What did she want? That’s the first time she’s ever been over here.”

  “She asked me not to mow on Saturdays. Apparently it distracts from pool time.” She smiled at her mother. “We struck a deal. She’s going to get her yard crew to come at ten on Fridays and I’ll stop mowing on Saturdays.”

  “Well, that’s good. So who is she?”

  “Cassidy Anderson.” She held her hand up. “And before you ask, no, I did not find out anything about her.” She was cuter up close than through binoculars, that’s for sure, although she didn’t share that with her mother. “I was a little rude to her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she came over with this attitude. Like everyone should work around her schedule so as not to disturb her on the weekends when she’s got her groupies out by the pool.”

  “Groupies? What are you talking about?”

  “The anorexic blonde, who is apparently her girlfriend, and two young, giggling blondes today.”

  “Laura Sue, have you been spying again with the binoculars?”

  Laura took the potatoes and bowl of water over to the table where her mother sat. “Here, help me,” she said as she handed her a vegetable peeler.

  “For saying you didn’t like to cook, that roast smells divine.”

  “Thank you. The Internet is a wonderful thing. Thousands of recipes.”

  “I could have given you mine. There’s nothing to it. Although I never made mine in the slow cooker.”

  “It’s a little different than yours, Mom. Chunked garlic, mushrooms, a sprig of rosemary, a dash of tamari.”

  “Onions? You have to have onions, Laura Sue.”

  “Of course there are onions. I was just giving you the highlights. I’ll make gravy and we’ll have that over mashed potatoes.”

  “Can you make gravy?”

  “I watched a video. I think I can do it.”

  Her mother shook her head as she peeled the potato. “A video. A video on how to make gravy? Your grandmother would never believe it. She taught me to make gravy by the time I was ten.”

  “Good. Thank you for volunteering to make tonight’s gravy,” she said with a grin. Ah, it was too easy.

  “You did that on purpose,” her mother accused. “There was no video.”

  “Yes, there is a video. I just didn’t watch it. Besides, you need to cook. You’ll lose your skill.”

  “I haven’t cooked since the accident,” her mother said sadly. “I do miss it. I just can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. I’ll stand beside you. You won’t fall.”

  Her mother met her gaze and held it. “You trying to get me back on my feet? You tired of living here?”

  “No, I’m not tired of being here,” she said honestly. “And yes, I am trying to get you on your feet. But not because I’m tired of cooking—yet. It would be good for you. You must be sick of watching TV by now.”

  “I’ve gotten hooked on my daytime soaps, I know. But you’re right. It would be good to be able to contribute some.” Her mother looked out of the big kitchen bay window, her gaze settling on the flowers Laura had put out just yesterday. “I so miss being able to plant my flowers. I miss getting my hands dirty.”

  “Well, tomorrow after breakfast, you can get them dirty.”

  Laura had seen her mother watching her yesterday, had seen the wistful look on her face. And even though nearly every flowerbed was stuffed with flowers, the back patio, where they normally ate breakfast, was still bare. So yesterday, she’d gone out early—while the neighbor’s yard crew was disturbing the silence—and bought some large planters, potting soil, and two big flats of impatiens. They had no impatiens anywhere else and the patio was shaded enough for them.

  “What do you have planned?”

  “You’ll have to wait. I’ll even let you use your chair.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I’m going to get to plant some flowers?”

  “Yes. I’ve got some planters for the patio. There’re still out in the truck.” Frankie’s old truck. It had come in handy, that’s for sure.

  “Thank you, Laura Sue. That was sweet of you.”

  “I try,” she said with a smile.

  Her mother smiled too. “I can’t believe you were so mean to me when you first got here.”

  “Me? You called me fat!”

  “You called my husband a jerk!”

  “Was I lying?”

  Her mother held her hand up, a half-peeled potato in it. “Truce, remember.”

  Laura laughed. “Yeah…you thought he was a jerk too!”

  Chapter Eight

  Cassidy had dinner with Larson on Thursday night. She’d been “delighted” that Cassidy had asked her out. So delighted, in fact, that she’d invited Cassidy in for a nightcap. A nightcap that lasted until morning. Cassidy—while still struggling to find her clothes—had invited her out to the country for the weekend. As expected, Larson readily agreed.

  And now here she was, at midnight, swimming alone—naked—in her pool while Larson basked in the afterglow of sex and wine…passed out upstairs in Cassidy’s bed. Cassidy moved into shallower water, slicking her hair back from her face, thinking about Claudia, not Larson.

  Claudia had been hurt when Cassidy told her that they wouldn’t be going out any longer. Claudia accused her of being a player…accused her of using her for sex and nothing more. Well…using was a strong word. But yeah, it wasn’t like they were in a relationship or anything. They both benefitted. Claudia got wined and dined for a month. They both got sex. And now it was over with.

  “On to another one,” she murmured tiredly.

  With a sigh, she ducked back beneath the surface of the water and swam across to the other end, resurfacing under the diving board. She held on to the side, enjoying the quiet of the late night, hearing the gentle lapping of the water as it rippled against the edge of the pool. The blue lights were still on, she having once again forgotten to change them at dark. Yellow, red…even green. She actually preferred the red lights. There was something sensuous about diving into a nighttime pool shaded in dark red.

  She’d spent way more than she’d intended on the pool. Actually, she’d spent far too much on the house itself, but if this was going to be the one and only house she ever built, she wanted it to be her dream home. And it was. Not extravagant to the extreme. Her master suite—on the second floor—was huge, however. Six hundred square feet for the bedroom alone, big enough for a sitting area that overlooked the pool and opened to a small patio. A walk-in shower large enough for six. A floor-level Jacuzzi tub. An obscenely large, walk-around closet. Her office was nice and roomy and it look
ed out over the woods to the west. Four additional bedrooms—two of them upstairs—all with private baths. She had a workout room—her private gym with various machines and free weights—that she hadn’t shown to anyone. That was her space. The entertainment room with theater seating had yet to be used. The formal dining room had yet to be used. The casual dining room had been used once. The breakfast nook in the kitchen got most of the eating action. And the kitchen itself was spacious and airy with a wall of windows looking out over the outdoor kitchen, the patio, and pool.

  She looked at the outdoor kitchen now, envisioning steak dinners with friends, hamburger dinners with her brother and family. Tanya and Derrick coming out for ribs and chicken. So far, however, she had not gotten to use it. This weekend would be the exception. Larson said she loved a good steak.

  Oh…Larson. Cassidy shook her head. Larson was nice. She was cute. She was closer to her own age for once—thirty-six. And the sex was…okay. Not mind-blowing, certainly, even though Larson made it out to be. And she had known within thirty minutes of their first date that Larson wasn’t going to be around long. But still, she’d extended the weekend invitation. Selfish on her part, she knew. She simply had no one else to spend the weekend with and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent an entire weekend alone. She liked being around people. She had a lot of friends. Truth was, she didn’t really like being alone. Being alone gave her too much time to think. Like now.

  She finally had her dream home, only she had no one to share it with. She looked up to her bedroom window, where Larson was sleeping. Was she using her? Was she using her as she’d done with Claudia? For company? For sex?

  Yes.

  Again she shook her head, then ducked down under the water as if that could hide her from the truth. She wasn’t using them, she protested. She was dating—a lot. She was dating and hoping to find her soulmate. She was dating and hoping to find the woman of her dreams. That wasn’t using them, she told herself.

  She swam to the shallow end, walking slowly up the steps. The air was cool tonight, reminding her that it was still spring. She wrapped the towel around herself, pausing to look back at the pool.

  It looked lonely. Much like she felt. Lonely, even though there was a naked woman lying in her bed.

  Lonely.

  Chapter Nine

  Laura was tempted to start the mower at daybreak, hoping to wake the neighbor, but then that would mean cutting into her quiet time. No. She’d wait. She’d wait until she knew Cassidy Anderson was up. In fact, she might even wait until she was at the pool. It was a warm, sunny day. She had no doubt they’d use the pool.

  She parted the blinds now, peeking out with the binoculars. The way the house was angled, she couldn’t see inside it. From her writing room, the pool was in plain view, though, as well as the patio and enough of an outdoor kitchen to make her envious. It was after nine. Were they still in bed? Making love?

  “Eww,” she said. The anorexic blonde couldn’t possibly be good in bed.

  But no. She saw movement. Oh, there she was. Tall, dark, and handsome—Cassidy Anderson—was coming outside. A one-piece swimsuit? What’s up with that? Her brows drew together as another woman came outside.

  “That’s not the anorexic blonde,” she murmured. “Good. But who are you? God, I swear, Cassidy…your taste in women…it sucks.”

  She lowered the glasses. Oh, well. Not her concern. She needed to mow the lawn, she thought with an evil grin.

  * * *

  Cassidy nearly fell off her float when the lawn mower started up next door, right next to the fence. She closed her eyes and sighed. Really?

  “We had a deal,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  She looked at Larson and shook her head. “Nothing.” She tipped off her float. “Be right back.”

  As she’d done last Saturday, she marched down her driveway to the gate, punched in the code, and waited for it to open, then she nearly stomped over to the neighbor’s yard. The woman—Laura Fry—was down at the other end. Cassidy walked through the yard around the side, thinking that the grass didn’t really even need to be mowed in the first place. The yard looked freshly manicured.

  “Then what the hell?”

  She waved at Laura, motioning her over. She narrowed her eyes, swearing she saw a smile on Laura’s face. An evil smile. She put her hands on her hips as the mower approached. Laura was again wearing cutoff jeans—her mowing shorts?—and she gave Cassidy a flirty smile when she killed the engine.

  “Good morning, Cassidy. What brings you around?”

  Cassidy narrowed her eyes even further. “Really? I believe it’s Saturday.”

  Again, a smile. “I believe you’re right.”

  “Oh, come on. We had a deal. What gives? Your yard has obviously just been mowed. There’s no need to mow it today.”

  “What gives is that yesterday morning, at exactly seven—while I was enjoying coffee on the patio—your guys showed up. My mother, who is an invalid and needs her rest, was roused from a sound sleep.”

  “Roused?” Who says that?

  “Yes. Roused. She was grumpy all day.”

  Cassidy rubbed her temples with both hands. “So you’re saying my yard crew didn’t come at ten?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So even though you don’t really need to mow, you’re doing it anyway, just to annoy me.”

  “We had a deal. I’m the only one who lived up to my part of it. So, yes, to annoy you.”

  Cassidy held her hand up. “Okay, look. I called them. I really did. They assured me they would come later. I don’t live here, so I don’t really have any control.”

  “Not my fault.”

  “Yeah…okay…so what? To just be a bitch, you’re going to mow anyway?”

  Laura Fry’s eyes peered into hers, making Cassidy take an involuntary step away from her.

  “Bitch? Did you just call me a…a bitch?”

  “Oh…Jesus,” she murmured. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You didn’t mean to call me a bitch? Or bitch means something else in your vocabulary?”

  Cassidy threw her hands up. “Look, I’ll give you a thousand dollars to stop mowing.”

  That statement was met with silence and a rather blank stare.

  “Well?”

  “I hate wealthy people who just throw their money around.”

  With that, Laura Fry started up the mower and engaged the blade, making Cassidy jump away as grass was shot in her direction.

  She didn’t know whether to be mad at Laura Fry or her yard guys. Should be the yard guys, she supposed…she’d called them and changed the time. But right now, it was her cute neighbor in cutoff jeans who her anger was directed at.

  “You’re unbelievable!” she yelled, even though she knew Laura couldn’t hear her. Or could she? Was that a damn smile again? She spun on her heels and marched—stomped—back to the road.

  * * *

  “I don’t find it that annoying,” Larson said as she floated next to Cassidy. “I hear mowers all the time in my neighborhood.”

  “That’s not the point. We had a deal.”

  “Oh, just enjoy the water and forget about her.” Larson reached out and grabbed her hand as their floats bumped. “I’ve had a great time. Although I woke up and you weren’t in bed last night.”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “The pool was calling.”

  “Oh? You got in the pool?” She tugged her closer. “Did you skinny-dip?”

  Cassidy smiled. “I did.”

  “I meant to tell you, you have a fabulous body for your age.”

  Cassidy stared at her, trying hard not to frown. “‘For my age’?”

  “Well, after forty, I hear everything starts to sag.” She smiled and winked. “You don’t have that issue yet.”

  Cassidy gave a fake laugh. “Well…thanks. Maybe I’ve got a year or two left before I fall apart.”

  “I’m right behind you. I
turn thirty-seven at the end of the year. And honestly, it’s been so nice to spend time with someone older, like you. I mean, most of my dates lately have been much younger than me.” Then she squeezed Cassidy’s hand. “You’ve got lots more stamina than I expected.”

  “Gee…thanks.”

  Cassidy wondered how rude it would be to call a cab to haul Larson back to Dallas today. Probably very rude. She sighed. Was it too early to start drinking?

  Probably. But…

  She pulled her hand away from Larson’s. “I’m going to get a beer. You want one?”

  “I’m not much for beer. Besides, it’s a bit early for me.”

  Cassidy flipped off her float and into the water, wishing she was alone. Maybe next weekend, she’d come out by herself. Take a break from dating. Take a break from…everything.

  Chapter Ten

  Laura pulled a small oscillating fan out onto the patio, then turned it on to high. It was a warm day, reminding her that April had flipped over to May a week ago. Soon they would no longer be able to enjoy breakfast out here, which she would miss. She sat back and twisted the cap off the bottle of beer she’d snagged from the fridge. Her mother was napping in her recliner—a daily occurrence. She took a swallow of the cold beer—one she’d stashed in the freezer for a few minutes—and gave an audible “ahhh” as she swallowed. The flowers were vibrant; hummingbirds buzzed around them and butterflies flitted about. The bird feeders seemed to have more customers every day and she enjoyed sitting and watching the activity. It cleared her mind. It was peaceful. She had hoped that all of that would carry over to her writing…but no, she still hadn’t come up with anything worthy of being published.

  She heard a splash in the pool next door and felt a stab of envy. Oh, how refreshing it would be to dive into a pool of cool water. Although, despite the afternoon heat, she imagined the water was still a little on the cold side. But they’d been using the pool for a while now. Maybe it was heated, like her mother suggested.