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Crying in front of her new neighbor because she didn’t have kids was embarrassment enough, but when he’d told her that corny joke, her over-the-top response had forced her to retreat. Inside her house, the laughter quickly changed to tears, as she knew it would.
He was going to think she was a nutcase, running away from him. Not the best way to make a first impression. Who cared what he thought anyway?
Tomorrow would be a better day. Had to be a better day. Sue shook her head. She’d had random crying fits all week, including the one she was currently overwhelmed by. She let the tears flow, hiccupped with the sobs. Let the mood pass, and then took several cleansing breaths.
The sun had set, time to move inside anyway. She carried her book into the living room and sat down to lose herself in her story once more.
Sue startled when her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Cinda, no doubt, and if she didn’t answer, Cinda would show up at her front door.
“I’m fine,” she said when she answered the phone.
“You sound better,” Cinda replied.
Sue’s ears perked up to the music on the other side of the common wall of the duplex.
“Is your radio on?” Cinda asked.
“No, that’s the new neighbor.”
“Is he there with you? Or is he playing it that loudly?”
“It isn’t as loud as it seems. I’m in the living room, the one room in the house where we share a wall. I’ll mention the thin walls to him next time I see him.”
“You need anything?” Cinda went on.
“How about some peace and quiet?” Quiet time she wasn’t likely to get, if the music was any indication. Sue sighed. “You can mother me tomorrow night at dinner. Right now, I think I’m going to have to have a conversation with my noisy neighbor.”
Cinda laughed. “Give ’em hell.”
Sue set the phone on the coffee table and stared at the wall, trying to unmuffle the song in her head, when suddenly the singing got louder. “Good to be alive,” the voice—not the original artist—sang. She’d heard the song on the top ten list—when it was popular—a song she used to dance to while she cleaned the house. The voice moved away as he sang the “uh-huhs.” The neighbor? Singing along? She folded her arms and sat back, listening. Next up was a Beatles song. Same voice. Definitely singing along to his playlist. In spite of the disruption to her quiet, she found herself smiling. He sang well.
How long had this been going on? Had he been singing the whole time she’d been reading?
She relaxed and enjoyed the concert, as muffled as it was.
She closed her eyes to ease the burning from her crying jag. She relaxed, for the first time all day. The hits on the other side of the wall kept coming, soothing her until she’d nearly fallen asleep.
Her phone rang again. Reynolds’ Garage. She answered and Mr. Reynolds said he was on his way over with her car, complete with new battery. He arrived ten minutes later, and while she signed his iPad to pay for the repairs, her new neighbor belted out “I Want it That Way.”
The song Mike liked to sing to her.
“You get a concert every night?” Mr. Reynolds asked.
“He just moved in. Guess I should have a talk with him, huh?” She handed Mr. Reynolds his iPad. “Thanks for bringing the car over.”
Mr. Reynolds touched the bill of his baseball cap. “You have a nice night.”
She had no tears left, and she didn’t have the strength to argue with her neighbor. Instead, she walked inside and pounded on the common wall, hoping he’d get the message and stop.
He did. Either that, or he’d reached the end of the playlist. The silence allowed the emptiness to swallow her once more.
~ ~ ~
HIS NEIGHBORHOOD HAD been relatively quiet all morning, which boded well for Heath’s plans to increase the amount of work he took in. Work his older brother still discounted as a hobby, even after Heath’s agent had assured C.J. Chicago was one of the top places to get voice-over work.
Not everyone was destined to be a stuffy suit. Maybe Heath’s job wasn’t the predictable paycheck his accountant brother thought he needed, but he made a decent living. Buying a house proved he was one of the big kids. His new place wasn’t the Taj Mahal, but surely his brother would have to acknowledge he wasn’t drifting his way through life.
The acoustic panels were mounted. The soundboard was set up. Heath’s home studio was in place, if not user-ready. Most of the furniture was where it belonged. A sea of boxes stared at him, waiting to be unpacked. The kitchen seemed the most logical place to start, and then he’d have to make a trip to the store for food.
As he emptied the last of the boxes marked kitchen, Heath listened for signs of life next door. No crying today. What could have made her so upset? Bad news? That happened sometimes. He shouldn’t assume she was suicidal.
Then again, Derek hadn’t cried. At least not that Heath was aware of. He’d always seemed fine. Until he wasn’t.
Which triggered another dad joke, even if Heath didn’t have an audience. “Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? Because they’re so good at it.” He cracked himself up.
Time to hit the grocery store. He grabbed his car keys and headed out.
When he arrived, he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror before he got out of the car. He hadn’t styled his hair this morning, but it was presentable. He ran a hand across his beard, decided it wasn’t overgrown, and walked into the store.
He hummed his way through the aisles, filling his cart with perishables to stock the refrigerator. He did a dance step to the music in his head and grabbed a box of chocolate covered raisins on his way down the snack aisle. He drummed on the cart handle and headed for the checkout.
At two o’clock in the afternoon, the grocery store was relatively empty. As he approached the one open checkout lane, he recognized the clerk as the woman he’d met last night—his neighbor. She looked more composed today.
Derek always looked composed.
His stomach twisted uncomfortably and tension tightened his shoulders. He gave his neighbor a big smile while he unloaded his cart. “Well, hello there, neighbor,”
She met his gaze with captivating sapphire eyes. They’d been clouded last night, but today they were stunning. The shadows were gone, although some puffiness remained.
“Heath, right?” she said.
He nodded and reined in the dad joke struggling to get out. He didn’t need a repeat of last night, didn’t need to send her running for the exit.
“Are you all moved in?” she asked as she scanned his groceries.
“I imagine I’ll be unpacking boxes for a while, but yeah.”
“I can bring over a casserole tomorrow. Save you cooking a meal and welcome you to the neighborhood. When’s the best time to stop over, a time when I can meet your wife?”
“No wife. Just me.” Fishing for his marital status? Or her way of saying she didn’t want to be neighborly with him?
“Well, then. I suppose I should ask what kind of casserole you’d prefer.” She seemed to pay closer attention to what he was buying.
“I’m not a picky eater, but I don’t expect you to make something.”
“It’s what neighbors do. Hoffman Grove is a tight-knit community.” She gave him a practiced smile, one that sent a chill through him. “I imagine I won’t be the only one welcoming you with food.”
He rested his hands on the side of the checkout lane. “Have I done something wrong?”
Her eyebrows raised. “Why would you ask that?”
“Just a vibe I’m getting.”
She finished scanning his groceries, gave him the total, then turned to face him. “I know you’re still getting settled, but I did want to point out the common wall we share isn’t much of a noise barrier.”
He knew. Which indicated she’d heard him singing while he worked. Did she not realize the noise factor worked both ways? That he’d heard her crying? “So I’ve discovered.”
Her expression grew guarded, similar to how Derek looked on those occasions when things weren’t quite right in his world. Heath had failed his friend. Was the world giving him a second chance to save a life?
“I know it’s none of my business,” he said, “but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m right next door.”
She drew a sudden intake of breath.
“Unless, of course, that would prompt your husband to come after me with a shotgun.” He said it as a joke, but stranger things had happened.
Her lips quivered. “I’m divorced. Or widowed. Or... both.”
The reason she’d been crying? “I’m sorry.”
“I have plenty of friends I can talk to.” Said with a slightly hostile tone.
Guess she’d told him. He nodded and paid for his groceries. “Got it.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”
He held up a hand. “It’s okay. You don’t know me.”
“The funeral was yesterday.” She bowed her head.
“My condolences.” To cry like that for her ex-husband? Either the divorce hadn’t been her idea, or they’d been able to remain friends. Both scenarios were foreign in his world. He’d never been particularly broken up over a failed relationship.
He gathered his bags and hurried out of the store before he told Sue another dumb joke.