Alex was out walking Zoe on a beautiful night, optimally temperate, a black sky speckled with stars, when she heard the commotion. A fight. Yelling. Something wasn’t right. It sounded like it had come from the Kumars’ house, so she headed in that direction. Her breath quickened at the same time Zoe’s ears perked up.
The uproar grew louder as she neared. In a heartbeat, she went from calm to tense. The sound of two people engaged in a heated argument turned a serene setting into something menacing. She strained to listen but couldn’t make out what was being said. Alex justified her snooping based on her suspicions of Samir. From the sounds of it, there could be real trouble.
The squabble soon died down. For a time, Alex heard nothing more than chirping night critters sending out calls for a mate or a meal. She glanced across the street to her house, catching a flicker of blue light through the living room curtains. She imagined Nick sprawled out on the couch, probably asleep. Baseball never held much appeal to her; she’d left him with the Red Sox trailing by four runs.
A light was on in Lettie’s room as well. Was her daughter working on her college apps as promised? Doubtful. Alex knew lip service when she heard it. Was she being overbearing, as Lettie claimed? Possibly. The conversation got a little heated between them. Alex left feeling like she had taken out some of her stress on Lettie, unfairly. She could guess the reason why, too. Girls’ night had dredged up a lot of raw emotions from the past. There should be more kids in the roost, nesting in other rooms, but only two lights were on in her home, no others. Soon there’d be only one.
Alex felt a tug on her arm as Zoe pulled her toward the Kumars’ place. The fighting had picked up again. An angry shout, almost a scream, was loud enough for her to consider calling 911. She took shelter behind the tall, prickly shrubs marking the end of the Kumars’ property line. From that point she could hear better but still couldn’t see inside the home. The voices were muffled, but Samir Kumar’s distinctive baritone clearly conveyed his displeasure. She stealthily left the cover of the shrubs to gain a better vantage point.
From her new position, Alex could see figures through the windows but still couldn’t hear them clearly, though she easily made out the words you did and not acceptable.
What’s not acceptable? she wondered. Was this about Jay—or Mandy? Either way, Samir’s controlling behavior was back on display.
She heard another combative volley, also from Samir. This time she made out I told you and you’re not allowed.
The rest was too muffled and indistinct, but she heard a woman’s voice respond—it must have been Mandy’s. Was she crying? Could be, given the tone. Samir’s bellicose barrage continued until Mandy raised her voice loud enough for Alex to hear it quite clearly.
“Stop it, Samir. I don’t have to take orders from you!”
Alex was about to leave. This was a fight, nothing more. It wasn’t her business. Then Zoe barked—her loudest, most piercing bark. Panic flooded Alex as she drew Zoe to her side, using her hand to form a makeshift muzzle. An instant later, an outside light came on.
“Shhh,” she said. “Shh!”
Moving stealthily, Alex worked her way back to the cover of the shrubs just as the front door came open. She was stuck. If she moved across the street, Samir would see her, and he’d know she was lurking on his property.
As if to confirm her fears, Samir stepped onto the porch. Alex tried to slow her breathing by counting to five in her head for each inhale.
Zoe squirmed in her grasp, forcing Alex to hold on tighter. The bark likely had drawn him outside. Perhaps he reasoned the dog’s owner was close by as well, overhearing conversations he wished to remain private.
Painful needles dug into Alex’s back as she pushed deeper into the shrubs for better concealment. As she did, Samir came down one step, then another. She hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t traverse his driveway. That would be hard to explain. It was a stroke of good fortune when Samir turned around. He retreated back into his house, closing the door behind him. The outside light went off, plunging Alex into darkness. Out came the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
With her heart still racing, Alex whisked Zoe home, but she couldn’t debrief with Nick. He was snoring on the couch. She went to her sister’s place instead, eager to give her a report. It was only just past nine.
Ken was home, oiling his gun on the kitchen table. Parts were splayed all over newspapers in haphazard fashion. Not a fan of firearms, Alex always felt a little uneasy at the sight of Ken’s weapon. When Emily poured some wine, Alex took it appreciatively, not bothering to tell her sister that she was already buzzed.
“Did you know guns are the leading cause of death for children?” Alex said to Ken as he was snapping this part into that.
“Is that so?” Ken answered, sounding like he didn’t care one bit.
“It’s true,” Alex said. “They’ve overtaken car crashes, in fact.”
“Good to know,” answered Ken, flashing her a cheeky grin baked with insincerity. “But this is going to the range with me tomorrow, not on some shooting spree. So, not to worry.” He gave her a wink that was playful but dismissive.
“You know, we keep the gun in a safe in the basement,” Emily said. She wasn’t a fan of guns, but she’d defend the practice to support her husband. “The statistics always leave out that most gun-related deaths involve recklessness or carelessness.”
“Or suicides.” Ken examined his handiwork after he’d finished putting the handgun back together.
“That may be so,” Alex said. “But I hope for Mandy’s sake that Samir Kumar doesn’t own one.”
That got Ken’s attention. “Why’s that?” he asked.
Alex revealed what she’d overheard outside the Kumars’ home.
Ken got a chicken leg out of the fridge, leaving the gun unattended on the table.
“What were they fighting about?” Emily wanted to know.
“Couldn’t hear,” said Alex. “But it was definitely intense.”
Ken took a big bite off the bone and began to chew slowly. “Why’s it any of your business what Samir and Mandy fight about?” he asked with a mouth full of food, his words garbled. “Couples fight. That’s not uncommon.”
“Certainly not around here,” Emily said.
“Touché,’” said Ken. “Hey, thanks for coming over, Alex, and spoiling a perfectly fine evening.”
“My pleasure,” said Alex.
“Maybe you should be paying more attention to your daughter instead of other people’s affairs,” Ken said. “That girl is depressed.”
Alex returned a fierce stare. “Why? Because she wears black? How would you even know what Lettie thinks or feels?”
“I’m her uncle,” said Ken. “I notice things. I care. Besides, I talk to Nick.”
Alex folded her arms. She snorted. “So Nick thinks his daughter is depressed? Well, he could tell me.”
“Maybe he’s tried,” said Ken. “Maybe you’re too busy nosing around other people’s problems to hear him.”
“Whoa! Way to go full jerk on me,” said Alex without cheer.
“Jerk, huh?” said Ken, tossing the chicken bone into the trash. “Let me show you something.”
Alex followed Ken into his first-floor office. Emily came in soon after. The French doors fronting Ken’s private workspace were high-priced antiques, as he would let everyone know whether they asked about them or not. His bookcases were stuffed with business tomes—Think and Grow Rich, The Psychology of Persuasion, The Art of War, and How to Win Friends & Influence People. Clearly, Ken needed to reread that one, but Alex held her tongue.
Shelves sagged with trophies—his and the boys’. Most of the framed photos adorning the walls were of Logan in his athletic glory. The photos of Dylan that dotted the collection were far fewer. Ken didn’t care about the disparity as much as he did Logan’s stat line for Syracuse lacrosse, which he could recite verbatim.
A set of blueprints was spread out across his expansive maple desk.
“I’m a big jerk, am I?” Ken tapped a finger against the blueprints. “Who’s converting his stand-alone garage into an in-law apartment for your mother? This jerk, that’s who.” Ken pointed the same finger at his barreled chest. “And the costs keep going up, because your mother evidently wants the Italian marble in the bathroom and Kohler faucets. Fine. Let her live well. Lucky for us, I’m crushing it at work—right, Em?” He said this as if Emily hadn’t earned a hefty commission for the Kumars’ sale.
“It’s not how I really want to spend my money, mind you,” continued Ken, “but family first, that’s my motto.”
“Altruistic is your middle name,” said Emily without feeling.
Ken planted a tender kiss on his wife’s cheek. “And aren’t you lucky you landed me.”
“Well, I’m thankful you’re going to help out our mom,” said Alex, who marveled at Ken’s ability to turn a story about someone else into something about himself. “But I’m still worried about Mandy Kumar. They could have been having a normal marital squabble, but there’s something off with Samir. He’s unsettling. Maybe you could get to know him a bit, Ken. Suss him out for us.”
“Happy to try, Alex,” said Ken. “But Nick and I both invited him to poker night and he declined. Not sure what more I can do. I say the best thing you can do is leave the Kumars alone.”
“I think that’s sound advice for you to take as well,” said Emily, who kept a death stare on Ken.
“Really? That again?” Ken shot back.
“You told me you think Mandy’s pretty,” Emily said.
“Only because you grilled me about this supposed ‘look’ I gave her at the stupid block party—like it was anything, like I care one bit about Mandy Kumar.”
Emily ran her fingertips across the blueprints. “Maybe Samir thinks like I do,” she said almost to herself before locking eyes with Ken. “Could be that’s what they were fighting about.”
“Well, I’ve had enough fun for one evening,” Ken said blandly. “I’m going downstairs to watch the Sox.”
“They’re losing,” said Alex.
“I’ll watch anyway.” He headed for the door.
“Speaking of family first, Dylan has a game tomorrow,” Emily reminded Ken.
“Can’t make it,” said Ken. “Work thing.”
“Does he know?” Emily asked.
“I’ll text him,” Ken said on his way out the door.
“Ken, honey, you’re forgetting something,” said Emily.
He stopped, turned, clearly confused.
“You left your gun on the kitchen table.”
“Right,” he said.
“Safety first,” said Alex, not taken in at all by Ken’s apologetic smile.