Page 86 of David's Love

I peel my eyes away from her and check the road. There’s no one in our vicinity, but still. I’m not that comfortable talking to her over the fence.

“Can I come over to talk to you?” I say, gesturing at her place. “I don’t want your neighbor to find me here when she returns.”

A faint smile tilts her lips.

“She won’t return anytime soon,” she says, climbing the few steps and unlatching the door connecting the two properties.

“Come on over,” she says.

I set myself in motion.

“What do you mean?” I ask, walking past her.

“Eleanor is gone. She passed away a while back. It’s been ten years or so since that happened. Someone else had bought the property, but they never lived here. Well, an out of state relative inherited first, and then someone bought it from them. The new owner has never come to this place. I’ve never seen them. They renovated it just after the sale went through, and that was that. Once in a while, a cleaning crew stops by, and the landscaper makes sure the lawn is properly kept, but other than that, the place is as lonely as I am,” she says, all of a sudden, chatty and friendly towards me.

“Here,” she says, walking ahead of me and pushing the door open to her house.

She puts the cat on an armchair with wooden armrests, but the move doesn’t sit well with her pet.

Her feline friend jumps to the floor before leaping to the kitchen counter.

“That’s her favorite spot. Would you like a cup of coffee?” the woman says, glancing over her shoulder. “Tea? Juice? Water?” she goes on since I seem undecided.

“Coffee is good.”

“Please. Take a seat,” she says, showing me to the kitchen table.

I pull the chair out and slide into my seat.

“My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Fox,” I add when she turns around after setting the machine for a pot of freshly brewed coffee.

“Sylvia Briggs,” she says.

Our hands lock as the woman studies my face for a second.

She breaks away from me and pivots to the coffee machine as a smell of coffee fills the kitchen.

The place is cozy and welcoming, and you can tell someone is home all the time. There are plants, cute knick knacks, a box of cookies, and colorful mugs on a tray in the middle of the table.

She picks two, one yellow and one red, and pours coffee for both of us.

“Cream? Sugar?”

I settle for some sugar while she pours cream into her drink.

Eventually, she sits at the table across from me, but not before picking up the box of cookies and setting it between us.

She removes the lid of the red metal tin adorned with a golden pattern and scoops out a chocolate cookie.

“Try them. The owner of the bakery is my best friend. I can vouch for them.”

I fish one out and take a bite before drinking coffee.

“So you were talking about a man…” she starts before lifting her gaze and waiting for me to give her his name.

I’m still chewing on a piece of crumbling cookie when she speaks again.

“Is this about David?” she asks.

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