by Ellie Hall
“Is that your roommate?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s Rob. Look, if you wanted to come in, all you had to do was ask.”
That’s what he thought I wanted? I stood up straighter and leaned into Connor’s face. “You think that’s why I’m here? That I’m angling for an invitation from you? The turn-down-your-music lady, with no makeup and my slippers on, holding a dog, is dying to get in? Ooh, can I get an invite to your super lame party? Bongo drum solos that never end are my favorite!”
Somewhere in my speech, the drums had stopped, but my volume had remained the same. Loud. I didn’t realize it until it got eerily quiet, and then several people booed me.
“She’s gonna call the cops,” someone whispered amid all the glares.
Connor ran a hand through his wavy dark hair before giving everyone a calm-it-down wave and stepping out onto the porch with me. He shut the door firmly behind us.
“Look, I get it. You’re forever not single. Natalya and your granny cleared that up for me. I’m sorry I invited you in. I am not coming on to you, and I won’t in the future. You can count on it.”
Forever not single. That again? It was all too much, and at that moment, my tear ducts decided I hadn’t been humiliated quite enough. I hid my face in Buster’s fur so Connor wouldn’t see me pulling it together, but when I looked up I could tell I wasn’t fooling him.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching out as if to touch my shoulder and then drawing his hand back when Buster gave him a warning yip.
“You’re the worst neighbor ever,” I said, but with no heat this time. My anger had lost a fight with my embarrassment. I’d never been booed before. If anyone deserved to do some booing, it was me.
“Are you sure I’m the worst?” Connor pulled out his phone and checked it. “It’s ten-thirty on a Saturday night. I promise we would’ve been done and my house silent by midnight.”
“It’s good to know you have standards.” Ah, anger might have left me, but I still had sarcasm.
“Um, you also crashed my roommate’s debut concert to kick off his album release. I know bongo drums aren’t your favorite.” He bit back a laugh. “But some people like them. Some people even try to be supportive of their friend’s endeavors.”
“Oh.”
6
Connor
Be strong, man. Melissa’s beautiful dark curls and elephant print pajama pants were luring me into her siren song. What was wrong with me, if the best way to get my attention was to storm into a party wearing slippers and insulting everyone?
I had almost convinced myself I was indifferent to her, and now here she was again. It didn’t help that Rob was back to banging on the bongos, and I had zero interest in returning for the end of his concert.
Melissa narrowed her eyes at me, like she could read my thoughts. “Why haven’t I seen your roommate before tonight?”
“Were you hoping to?”
“No. It just seems suspicious that I’ve never seen him.”
“He’s a weird dude who keeps weird hours.”
“Is he the reason all the strange cars are coming and going from your place all the time?” She looked irritated, but there was expectation threaded through her question, too. Like she hoped it was my roommate who was the shady one and not me. Why?
And then it hit me. She was attracted to me, just like I was attracted to her. Miss Forever Not Single secretly liked me. No, no, no. That wouldn’t work.
I ducked my head, channeling every after school special I’d ever watched growing up, even shuffling back and forth like the question made me nervous. “Nah, that’s me. It’s just to make a few more bucks, and then I swear I won’t do it anymore.”
Melissa backed up from me, as I knew she would. “Okay then, goodnight.”
“You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?”
Her eyes widened before she attempted a look of indifference. “As long as it stops.”
“It will. I just have to get rid of this last stash.” Maybe adding that last part was a bit too much. I didn’t want to get falsely arrested. I just wanted her to turn around and never talk to me again. She was too tempting—as all hot messes were.
Melissa was almost to her front door when a car honked from the street, making us both jump. “Yoo-hoo! Are you Connor Harwood? I’m here to pick up the set of back scratchers you had for sale in the Facebook yard sale group.”
An older couple in a minivan had stopped in front of our duplex. They couldn’t park because of the cars in front, so they were idling in the road with the passenger side window down. The woman looked at us expectantly.
“Nope, wrong house,” I called back. It about killed me to send them off. Who else was going to buy a bag of used wooden backscratchers for fifteen bucks?
“No, you have the right place,” Melissa called out. She turned to stare me down. “Go get their backscratchers, loser.”
“I’m still a drug dealer,” I said.
“Sure you are. I should have known when I heard the bongos from your super lame party.”
“They’re buying drugs from me.”
“The minivan people? And they know your real name?”
“Connor Harwood is my dealer name.”
Melissa laughed, and I loved the sound a little too much. “Look, I don’t know why you’re so determined to prove you’re a terrible person, but whatever. I’m going to bed.”
“I am a terrible person.” I was. I was falling into her trap right now. I wanted to follow her home. Even if it meant faking my death later to get away from her.
Instead, I went inside to find the stupid backscratchers.
7
Melissa
Natalya came over on Sunday night to help me plan Granny’s next few adventures. Sometimes our brainstorming sessions just meant we watched several episodes of Investigation Miami, which was a truly dumb show that redeemed itself only by its entertaining plots and overabundance of eye candy. I could watch the super-hot Officer Florez shine his flashlight around old, abandoned buildings all day.
When Natalya asked about my week, I purposely didn’t mention the little concert at Connor’s place. Natalya didn’t need more ammunition for her utter hatred of the guy, and I had a hunch his weird behavior toward me had more to do with my best friend than it did with me.
Natalya was the most loveable person I’d ever known. Except with men. Her dating track record in the two years I’d known her was not stellar. Despite being the most beautiful and sweet woman a guy could ask for, things always ended badly. Mementos were burned in effigy, the guys names were never to be mentioned again, and there was crying. Lots of crying.
But because she was my best friend, and Connor had already proved what a jerk he was, I had to err on the side of believing her when she said he’d done her wrong.
“What if I left a key in a safety deposit box for you and Granny to find?” Natalya suggested.
“We did that already, remember?”
“Right.” Natalya tapped her chin with her pen. “Okay, what if someone’s chickens suddenly went missing?”
“I can’t do the Bigfoot thing again, Nat. Granny’s walker doesn’t do well in the woods.”
She laughed. “Okay, what if—?” She cut off abruptly, and her eyes went to a spot behind me on the wall. And then she began screaming. A lot.
I scrambled to my feet and turned to see a wolf spider on steroids hanging out next to my light switch. It was so big it had to be part tarantula. Maybe a tarantula and a wolf spider had a forbidden love affair and this was the result.
“Kill it now!” Natalya shrieked.
Sarge lifted his head and howled in protest at all the noise. Buster turned in circles and then peed on the linoleum. He still had trouble sometimes when he got overexcited.
“Nat, stop. You’re scaring the dogs.”
Natalya picked up her heavy wedge sandal before I could stop her and chucked it at the wall. The spider moved two inches, causing Natalya to take u
p screaming again. Now I had a small dent, a very skittish spider, a wet spot to clean up, and two freaked out dogs barking.
“You have to stop screaming,” I demanded. “You’ll bring Connor over here.”
That stopped her. Natalya let out a shuddering breath. “He won’t come because he’s a coward and a deserter.” But she still glanced at the door, looking worried.
“I’ll get the spider. You stay over there.” I grabbed a plastic cup off the counter and took slow and easy steps over to the wall. I didn’t want the thing making a break for the ceiling.
“Why do you have a cup?” Natalya asked slowly, as if I were juggling hand grenades and needed to be talked out of it.
“Because I’m taking him outside.”
“Him?”
“Wolf spiders don’t bite. Usually. And they’re not venomous. He can go live out in my yard and eat crickets.”
“What if it’s a recluse? Those can kill you.”
“He’s too hairy to be a recluse spider.”
“Do you even hear yourself?”
I did. And it wasn’t like I was always a defender of pests. I just didn’t like squishing things. And I appreciated a creature who was calm under pressure. Wolf spiders retreated when confronted. I could respect that.
I scraped the cup against the wall until Mr. Spider dropped into it, and then I headed for the door. I was so intent on watching the spider in the cup that I didn’t notice Connor standing in front of me when I opened the door. It startled me just enough to make the cup in my hands jump, enough to launch a spider right onto his chest.
8
Connor
“Glahh!” That was the high-pitched noise that left my throat when I realized I had a gigantic, hairy spider clinging to my shirt. “You’re a monster!” I backtracked into the yard, holding the fabric of my shirt away from my skin, and all the while Melissa followed me with the incriminating cup in her hands.
It was payback of the most diabolical kind, her screaming to draw me over there, just so she could throw spiders at me.
Every time I thought I had the woman figured out, she changed the rules. I didn’t know if anything else was in that cup, but I didn’t want to find out.
“Wait!” She edged closer, making me back up faster, and the farther we moved from the porchlights the less I could see. My ankle twisted as I hit an old gopher hole, and I went down, scraping my palms in the dirt.
I quickly scrambled to my feet and held my arms out at my sides in a frozen position, afraid if I moved, the spider would bite me. It was no longer on my chest where I’d last seen it, but that was far from comforting. It could be anywhere. It could be on my pants. Oh, please don’t let it be on my pants. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut. “This is war, Melissa. Just wait and see what creepy-crawly thing ends up on you after this.”
“It was an accident. Calm down and let me search you. I’m trying to help.” She pulled out her phone and turned on flashlight mode.
I held still as she shined the flashlight up and down my body. She stepped closer and ran her hand down the folds of my shirt, making me shiver. She smelled like citrus blossoms and spun sugar. It was all part of her evil plan to break me down step by step, I told myself.
Then she lifted my shirt up and flashed her phone on my skin. After checking there, her eyes glanced up, meeting mine before she quickly looked away. Was she blushing?
“How was throwing a spider on me an accident?” I asked in a voice I hoped was calm.
Melissa moved to my back and checked there. “I was taking it outside. I didn’t know you were standing there. You startled me.” There was a little wobble to her voice that set my heart beating faster than it already was. Was our close proximity affecting her as much as it was affecting me? My brain followed the movement of her hands, first on my shoulder blades, and then where she touched my arms to lower them. She ran her fingers across my forearms before pulling away, which was completely unnecessary and yet totally welcome. I’d officially lost my mind. She could dump a bunch of new spiders on me and I’d thank her and report for inspection.
“I think it’s gone. I’m sorry. I meant to just throw him out in the yard.”
“So he could find his way into my place next?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“That was the hope.” She grinned.
“Hey!” a familiar voice called from the porch. Natalya stood under the porchlight holding Melissa’s little dog. “Tell Connor to go away now. It’s not like he came in time to save us from anything anyway.”
“I stopped to put pants on.” I’d been about to go to bed. In hindsight, throwing on a pair of track pants and a T-shirt had saved me from skin-on-skin contact with an arachnid. That was a win in my book.
“Good to know you care more about your pants than our safety,” Natalya huffed. “We could have been dying in here.”
“I’m glad you put on pants,” Melissa murmured next to me. “For what it’s worth.”
She began to laugh and so did I, making Natalya even more irritated with us. I waited until they were both inside before going home, where I stripped down and showered before I felt confident enough to go to bed, knowing I was spider-free.
9
Melissa
It turned out I didn’t need to plan an adventure for Monday evening, because as soon as I mentioned my intentions to buy and plant grass seed this week, Granny was all about going with me to shop.
I should have known not to say anything to her about it. The only thing Granny liked more than solving crimes was a shopping trip where someone else was spending the money, and she had free rein to give advice.
She read her latest letter from Damien on the way to the home improvement store. This week, his postmark was from Mississippi. Maybe he truly was wandering the country like a nomad, looking for more unsuspecting women to con. Maybe his sweet letters of fake devotion were just practice. I didn’t read the ones he sent me anymore. It was better not to let him in my head.
I got Granny in a motorized scooter at the front of the store, and we headed over to the lawn and garden section.
“If you don’t keep it continually watered, the grass will die as soon as it comes up,” Granny warned. “You really should have planted Bermuda grass last month when the temperatures were in the eighties.”
“Yeah, I know.” She’d read it off the same display sign as I had, but it didn’t hurt to hear it twice. Granny had so few people to lecture these days; it might as well be me.
Granny cruised ahead in her motorized shopping cart to the hoses. “You should have measured your yard so you know what length to buy.”
“I’ll go long to be safe.” I threw a 100 foot hose in my cart and continued down the aisle to the sprinkler section. A professionally installed sprinkler system would have been nice, but then, so would a backyard pool with a rock waterfall and a swim-up bar. Neither of those things would be happening on a receptionist’s salary, but a girl could dream.
I grabbed a couple of twenty-dollar metal oscillating sprinklers off the shelf and dropped them in the cart on top of the hose.
“We should have gotten the grass seed first, Melissa. The biggest and heaviest items should go on the bottom of the cart.”
“I’ll rearrange. It will be my workout for today.”
“Well, all right.” Granny scootered ahead to the outdoor section where the grass seed was, and I hurried to follow with my cart. Knowing the grass seed bags needed to go in the cart first didn’t stop me from being distracted by all the flowers and succulents on display. I’d have to come back for them. I wanted some taller shrubbery to flank my front door.
My attention caught on the back of a guy’s head as he strolled down the aisle across from me. His cart had a couple of plants in it. Was that Connor? Shoot. It totally was. I needed to find Granny before she spotted him and gave him the third degree about the yard again. The last thing I wanted was another altercation, this time in public. She’d probably try to make him pay for my purch
ases and become my indentured servant. Not that those were bad things…. But no.
Staying low, I darted off towards the grass seed display. Granny had abandoned her motorized scooter and stood poking at the bags, making harrumphing noises at the ones that were leaking seed. I was pretty sure she was the reason they were leaking.
“Sloppy, packaging,” she muttered.
I loaded a fifty-pound bag of grass seed in the cart, right on top of the sprinklers, at the moment not caring about order or weight or anything else.
“That bag has a hole. You need this one.” Granny pointed at a seed bag, the third one down in the stack.
“This will have to work for now. My back can only take so much lifting.” I glanced behind me, tracking Connor’s progress. He was headed our way, but in no hurry, and thankfully, he wasn’t looking in our direction.
Granny, for once, gave up her side of the argument and got in her scooter to follow me. I took off at a jog and slid my cart in line ahead of a guy juggling tomato plants, earning me a glare from him. Whatever. It would all be worth it if we could just get out before Granny spotted Connor.
The attendant scanned my items, and with a quick swipe of my card, we were done. I hurried off with Granny at my side. Mission accomplished.
“Ma’am. Wait, ma’am. Ma’am, hold up.” It didn’t register that the store clerk was hollering at me until the steady whoosh of grass seed and the quickly approaching footsteps put it all together for me, along with one pesky detail I’d missed in my hurry. She hadn’t scanned the sprinklers buried under the seed bag because I hadn’t told her about them. And they’d just pierced the underside of my grass bag, which was now leaving a trail along the parking lot.
“The bag is leaking,” Granny so helpfully pointed out. “It’s leaking a lot.”
The clerk who had followed us stared at the grass seed all over the ground and then at my cart, clearly not sure what to do now that she had my attention. She’d been running on pure instinct, as had I.